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Back The Short Drop Save as PDF
Chapters (61)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Dedication
  4. CONTENTS
  5. START READING
  6. PART ONE
  7. CHAPTER ONE
  8. CHAPTER TWO
  9. CHAPTER THREE
  10. CHAPTER FOUR
  11. CHAPTER FIVE
  12. CHAPTER SIX
  13. CHAPTER SEVEN
  14. CHAPTER EIGHT
  15. CHAPTER NINE
  16. CHAPTER TEN
  17. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  18. CHAPTER TWELVE
  19. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  20. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  21. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  22. PART TWO
  23. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  24. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  25. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  26. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  33. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  34. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  35. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  36. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  42. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  43. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  44. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
  45. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
  46. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
  47. CHAPTER FORTY
  48. CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
  49. PART THREE
  50. CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
  51. CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
  52. CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
  53. CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
  54. CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
  55. CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
  56. CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
  57. CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
  58. CHAPTER FIFTY
  59. EPILOGUE
  60. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  61. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Gibson looked down at his father’s feet. Duke was wearing a pair of worn black wing tips. The leather was creased deeply above the toe. He looked up at his dad inquisitively.

“So what does that tell you about your old man?” Duke asked.

“I don’t know.”

“It means that no one thing reveals a man. Never be so arrogant to think you know a man from just his shoes. But . . .”

“But, it’s a start?”

“It’s a start,” Duke said. “So what’s the difference between him and me?”

“People keep talking to you.”

Duke winked. “It’s a start.”

Gibson felt proud and nodded vigorously. He felt like he was missing something, but he was happy for his dad’s attention and didn’t want to spoil it by asking too many questions. He’d figure it out on his own.

“All right, kiddo. Give me an hour. I need to work a bit, but then I know a place in Georgetown that makes a killer Oreo milkshake. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Three hours later, he awakened where he’d fallen asleep, curled up on a bed in one of the guestrooms beneath a fur coat.

“Wake up, son. Wake up. Wake up.”

Duke scooped him up and carried him out to the car. Gibson didn’t wake until the door slammed shut.

“Wake up . . .”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Gibson came to at the bottom of an ocean strewn with the archaeology of his life. In the murky, dim light he could make out the rusted hulk of his father’s green station wagon half submerged in a sandbank. The ruins of his childhood home leaned crazily to one side. Improbably, the white dogwood in the backyard was in full bloom. His first bicycle leaned against it. And to his right, the classroom where the FBI had cuffed him and perp-walked him out past a sea of TV cameras.

Something caught his eye up on the surface. He pushed off from the bottom and began to rise. As he broke the surface, his eyes flew open, and he took a deep, rasping breath. A naked lightbulb, like a wayward sun, swayed near his face. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus his eyes. But when he had, he wished he hadn’t.

On tiptoes, Gibson teetered on a wooden stool. A rope around his neck was the only thing that kept him from falling, but the price was the cruel way it bit into his skin. He tried to grab the rope to take the pressure off his throat, but his hands were bound behind his back. Panicking, he began to thrash and nearly lost his balance. A steadying hand helped him regain his perch.

“All right, now. Settle down. Not just yet. Not just yet. Business first,” said the voice from outside the diner.

The diner.