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?
“The dog? I don’t know. I never got to hear the end of the story. Newberry put it down, I guess. That’s what you’re forced to do with any animal like that.” Danny tossed the phone back across the table to Fox Uno, who caught it with two hands. “See, Newberry died on patrol in the Nuristan Province in Afghanistan, right outside a small village, Rumnar. He was twenty years old, and we’d already survived a bad ambush together at a place called Wanat, but on September 10, 2009, he stepped on a roadside IED and got blown to pieces. I was right there next to him, but I was too late. Hell, it could have been me. We’re walking along and he’s telling me all about his wife and daughter and that damn dog of his, and then he’s gone.” Danny made a vague motion with his hand, and with Fox Uno’s own hands occupied holding the phone, Danny then picked up the gun from the table. He sighted down the barrel, aiming at a space in the air between them. “That whole time, I didn’t know I was talking to a dead man.”
Danny leaned forward. “There’s no one over there taking your damn calls, because they’re already dead, just like Newberry. And all that loyalty you’re going on about? That’s gone, too. There’s not a goddamn thing you can do for Amé and her family, because if there was, you wouldn’t be hiding behind her here in Murfee. Let’s face it, you never thought in a million years you’d end up here, like this. I know that, and she’s going to know that soon enough, too. The only question is, what the hell are we going to do with you then?” Danny decocked the Colt and dropped the mag, ejecting the chambered round. He caught it with one hand and set it upright on the table. He reholstered his gun and stood to leave.
Fox Uno laughed, then took both phones and put them in his pockets. He also picked up the round and bounced it in his hand, smiling. “We will see, diputado. Me gustas. I would have wanted you to work for me, as you say, over there. And I think over there is not so very far away.”
He stood, too, no longer smiling. He reached over and grabbed Danny’s hand, surprisingly strong, and put the round in his palm and folded his fingers over it. He held Danny’s hand tight as he talked, letting go only when he was done. “Always remember that I have talked to many, many dead men, too.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
It took a surprisingly long time to cut all the way through a man’s neck.
It looked to be very, very bloody.