According to Devine and Fletcher earlier, Wesson PD had Hades’s whereabouts narrowed down to three places. There would be search warrants, he knew. Cops staking out each residence, waiting for Hades to emerge. Hudson clenched his jaw as he braked at a red light. His gaze drifted to the black box on his passenger seat, foil still stuck to it. No matter where he had to go, that was what Noelle had said. She knew something about what Garrison had been up to; he was sure of it. He thought of the faded red ticket burning a hole in his memo book. He would ask Noelle about it. Not tonight, not tomorrow. But Boxing Day was fair game.

The light turned green and he crossed the intersection, fully aware that the cemetery where Garrison’s body had been laid to rest was on his right, shrouded in dark. A light snow began to fall, dusting his windshield like a feather pillow was being shaken. Hudson squinted in his rearview mirror. A pair of headlights trailed behind him, but as he turned in to his mother’s drive, the car passed.

His mother’s house was the same one he grew up in, a tiny white ranch with burgundy trim. Tucked back about a hundred feet from the road, he’d seen garages—especially on the lakeshore—that were larger. Evergreens that he remembered push-mowing around when they were only waist-high now blotted out the blue moon. The kitchen windows glowed amber through the frosted glass.

A layer of ice coated the concrete steps of the porch. Holding his packages in his left arm, he raised his right fist to knock. The door opened before his knuckles touched it, and there stood Tobias Shannon, a copper-colored drink in his hand. A grin spread across his face and he stepped aside to let Hudson in. “Merry Christmas, brother.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” said Hudson. He stomped his shoes off on the welcome mat.

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” said Tobias. His eyes glittered over the rim of his glass.

“I’m sorry, it’s just—they’re looking for you.”

“And in all the wrong places.” Tobias gave a winning smile. His gold grillz glinted. It looked like a custom job. Hudson didn’t want to know what he’d sold in order to pay for it. Although he’d be the first to admit his relationship with his brother wasn’t even in the neighborhood of “close,” he did know one discerning truth: Tobias loved to play stupid games and win big prizes.

“Hey, Ma.” Juggling his gifts in one hand, Hudson leaned over to pull his mother into a hug. His chin rested atop her head and he noticed there were more silver strands amidst the black than the last time he’d seen her. Two months ago? He’d taken her out to lunch, where she’d cried, again, about his career choice dividing the family. He left her in tears and with the resolute fact that his pension was tied to the City of Black Harbor; if he left now, he’d lose everything. The way things were, he could retire in twenty years. That was more than a lot of people could say. Besides, he loved his job. It wasn’t his cross to bear that his brother was Hades, drug lord of the underworld.