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?
Later, getting dressed, he still hadn’t wanted to look at himself too long in their bedroom mirror, and driving over to the sheriff’s department, he’d tried not to catch his reflection in the truck’s windows.
All those damn, dark thoughts of his, and a few of her own that she needed to rid herself of.
Yesterday, when he was out of the house, she’d come across his papers in the kitchen, decided to glance through them quickly and see for herself the notes he’d made for the debate. Instead, she found the folder Joe Garrison had left. She had sat at their table for an hour and read far too much of it, all of Fox Uno’s horrors, and it had been far too hard to think about much else since then.
It had been a long damn drive for them both.
—
MEL FINALLY STOPPED AND STOOD BACK to take him in, all at once, as Jack—wrapped up in his car seat—watched them both with his big eyes. Vianey Ruiz had offered to watch the baby for the night, but Mel wanted him with her. She didn’t feel comfortable yet with anyone other than herself or Chris watching over their son.
“Jesus, babe, this is ridiculous. I look and feel ridiculous,” he complained.
“No, you look handsome. Professional. Serious.”
He held out his arms. “I look like the Grim Reaper.”
She laughed. “I’d still vote for you.”
“Well, there we go. One solid vote. Maybe I won’t lose this thing in a complete landslide.”
She crossed her arms and leaned against his desk. “You’re not going to lose, Sheriff Cherry. I have a good feeling about this.”
“I have all sorts of feelings, none of them good. Do you know I’ve never run for anything? Not student council president, nothing. I didn’t even run for this office the first time around. They handed it to me.”
She moved closer, took his smooth face in her hands. “Chris, they gave it to you because you were the only man worthy of it. You’re going to be fine tonight. It’s just like taking the football field. No one who’s ever come out of this shitty little town has ever thrown a football like you. No one.” And that was true. She’d watched him launch those balls heavenward at Baylor, then again out in the yard of his parents’ house in Murfee. The night he was shot, he’d thrown those balls so high they were probably still up there, never to come down. “And no one . . . no one . . . has ever cared as much about this shitty little town, and the people in it, as you do.”
She added, “And if they don’t see that, fuck ’em.”
He laughed. “Lady, you do have a mouth on you. Does your boyfriend know you talk like that?”