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Back The Trickster Save as PDF
Chapters (74)
  1. The Trickster
  2. Copyright
  3. Dedication
  4. Contents
  5. Preface to the 20th anniversary edition
  6. Introduction
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. Keep Reading
  70. FURNACE
  71. Acknowledgements
  72. About the Author
  73. ALSO BY THE AUTHOR
  74. About the Publisher

Why had she never really questioned Sam about his childhood? She drank in anything he had volunteered, but never pushed him when it looked like it was hurting. She knew why. If she were honest, Katie didn’t really care. It was a stark and awful truth. She had won Sam and she didn’t give a damn who had him, loved him or hated him before. He was hers. The days of questioning for Katie were over after Tom. She had found her life again and she wanted no more soul-searching. It was childish, but it was true.

Now it looked as if the past was going to pay her back for her indifference. The name wasn’t important. No. It was a good name. Hunt or Hunting Wolf, it was Sam’s name and she’d made vows to take it. It was the horror and the mystery of what was happening to Sam. She felt a creeping fear that he had other secrets. Secrets that would matter more than his abandoned Indian heritage.

The swing door to the kitchen pushed open and Sam stood holding it there with his foot. He looked at the back of his wife’s head and longed to touch the golden hair. She didn’t turn round when she spoke.

‘I just needed to think, Sam.’

He swallowed a dry lump in his throat. ‘Have you had time enough?’

She turned and looked up into his face. That darling face, now contorted with fear and hurt and bewilderment, and she stood up and stepped into his arms.

He stroked her hair and held her face to his chest. ‘I can tell you if you want.’

‘It’s not important.’

‘It was long before we met. I was sixteen.’

‘I don’t need to know.’

He put a hand beneath her chin and pulled her face up to him. ‘Katie. I’m scared.’

In ten years her husband had never said those words. Sam. The man who was strong enough for them all. The father who loved his wife and children as if they were the last on earth. He was scared. That made Katie more scared than she could stomach. She broke away from him and braced herself. ‘Sam?’

He sensed what was coming. His eyes implored her not to say it.

‘Did you kill that boy?’

The words sounded ridiculous. She could scarcely believe she’d spoken them. His reply was even more unreal.

‘I don’t know, Katie.’

* * *

‘… and although there is no official word as yet from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police we can exclusively reveal that this sleepy ski resort has yet again been shaken to the core by a grisly murder … Aw shit, Brian, don’t get in my eye-line. I hate it when you get in my eye-line.’