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?
Eddy knew exactly what Johnnie meant by not being done with him. After they shot the hell out of the old man and whoever stood in their way, Johnnie or one of the others was going to put a bullet in Eddy’s brain pan and leave him behind to take the fall. Nobody who knew Eddy would believe he’d gun down the sheriff or anyone else, but in the bloody aftermath, Eddy guessed he wouldn’t have too many friends suddenly standing up to vouch his for goddamn corpse. After all, Eddy’s so-called friends had abandoned the very-much-alive Eddy Rabbit after his arrest out at Delcia Canyon.
But not Danny, who’d never been a friend at all.
Eddy crawled a few more feet away, making a show of it . . . fumbling with his jeans, making faces, groaning . . . until Johnnie looked away, embarrassed, shaking his head.
Giving Eddy the chance he needed to slide that Apache phone up into his hand.
He thumbed it on, keeping his eyes on Johnnie. It couldn’t have much battery left, only a spark, but he prayed it was enough to get one message out. Had to be. He wasn’t going to have time to make a goddamn social conversation out of it, or explain much . . . just a few words that he had to make count.
As he waited for the phone to wake up, he stared into the setting sun. That small breeze from earlier had followed them all the way out here, and he could smell flowers, agave and sotol and nolina. He’d been sweating for the whole hike, but in that moment, he was almost cool, relaxed, like he was standing in some nice shade. It wasn’t as nice as Eddy’s canyon, but it was damn fine, too, in its own way, and he could see why the sheriff might want to live out here.
If Johnnie had looked over at him then, he might have seen his eyes closed and a smile on his face.
Eddy was just typing in Danny’s number he’d memorized, hoping he had it right, when Johnnie said something. He risked a glance up, following Johnnie’s own gaze.
That’s when they both saw an old van roll up and park in front of the house.
SIXTY-EIGHT
The man in the red shirt did not match the second voice on the phone.
This man . . . kid . . . was younger. He had thick hair and the hint of a beard, one of those closely cropped, three-day shadows that took plenty of effort to make look so haphazard. Even at a distance, his sunglasses and dark jeans appeared expensive. It was almost like he’d dressed up for the occasion. He reminded Chris of a college student, a fashion model, rather than a narco, and if Fox Uno recognized him, it was impossible to tell from the old man’s face.