Chapters (110)
- Cover
- ALSO BY J. TODD SCOTT
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- PROLOGUE
- I
- II
- PART ONE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- PART TWO
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- PART THREE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- PART FOUR
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- SEVENTY-FOUR
- SEVENTY-FIVE
- SEVENTY-SIX
- SEVENTY-SEVEN
- SEVENTY-EIGHT
- SEVENTY-NINE
- EIGHTY
- EIGHTY-ONE
- EIGHTY-TWO
- EIGHTY-THREE
- EIGHTY-FOUR
- EPILOGUE
- I
- II
- III
- IV
- V
- VI
- VII
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Excerpt from LOST RIVER
- LITTLE PARIS
- DILLON
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- What’s next onyour reading list?
Chris closed his eyes. “But I could still talk to Garrison. There is that. It’s hard to imagine, but in a lot of ways, since Ben’s death, Garrison is one of the few friends I have, if I can even use that word. He’s not one of my deputies, he doesn’t work for me, I’m not responsible for him . . .” Chris stopped, started again, his eyes now open. “Since coming back to Murfee, I’ve known him longer than anyone else. With Ben gone, he may know more about me than anyone else, other than you.”
“He knows what you went through, Chris. Just like you know about him. Maybe it’s not a friendship, but whatever it is, I think it’s strong enough you can call him about this.”
“Garrison said you were too good for me.” Chris moved close, leaned down and kissed her, then Jack. And she would have sworn that as he bent over them, his passage had stirred unseen smoke that had drifted in through the open window. It made her want to get up and shut it, to keep them safe inside. But instead, she grabbed him, kissed back hard, wishing with everything she had that the three of them could stay just like this for a long, long time. Forever.
“Listen to the man, and don’t ever forget it.”
—
THEY REMAINED THAT WAY, silent for a while, until Chris pulled away. She knew he’d made his decision. “It’s just a few days,” he said, as much to himself as to her. “A few damn days, and then he’s gone. We can handle that, right?”
Mel didn’t answer him. She couldn’t. After allowing herself to convince him that she wasn’t half mad with worry and fear, she couldn’t say what was really on the tip of her tongue.
God, I hope you’re right.
TWENTY-THREE
Later that night, after Fox Uno and Zita were asleep, Danny joined Amé on her tiny apartment landing, where she stood smoking a cigarette. She’d been there an hour, maybe more, leaning against the unpainted wooden railing and watching her smoke rise through the settling dark into the spreading arms of the juniper that flanked the garage. There was barely room for them both, and the night was only made warmer by her cigarette in the small space at the top of the stairs, where they’d found Zita what felt like years before.
“I didn’t know you smoked,” he said, standing close enough to breathe the smoke right along with her, to feel the heated tip of the Marlboro on his skin.
“I used to, when I was younger. Far too much.”
“When your brother was still alive. When you knew Caleb Ross, right? Sheriff Ross’s son.”
She flicked ash. “It’s not important. It was a long time ago.”