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?
Dupree’s home had been far outside Murfee, in a remote corner of the Big Bend, as rugged and unknowable and violent as anywhere Garrison had ever visited.
Yeah, I think I have just the place . . .
It wasn’t Ciudad Juárez, Chihuahua, Mexico, that Garrison truly hated.
It was goddamn Texas.
THREE
The goddamn sign was still crooked.
Sheriff Chris Cherry stood back and looked at it, hammer in hand, as a thick gust of Texas wind threatened to take his Stetson Brimstone. Deputy Marco Lucero was on the other side, staring into the middle distance past Big Bend Central High School, into a hard blue sky polished with low clouds, but Chris knew the young man was trying hard not to laugh.
He wasn’t doing all that good of a job of it.
No matter how Chris tackled the sign, how he tapped down one side or the other, he couldn’t get the damn thing straight. Based on his earlier remodeling efforts at the ranch house at the Far Six, both he and Mel knew he wasn’t particularly good at anything involving tools, but this was ridiculous. It was just a hammer. Just a goddamn sign. But it was like the earth itself was refusing his efforts, pushing him away.
He should take that as some sort of hint.
Frustrated, he finally asked Marco, “What do you think?”
Now serious, his newest deputy cocked his head sideways, the only way to get the sign straight. “Almost there, sir.” Marco scratched a freshly shaved chin, uncomfortable, obviously buying himself time to think up something polite to say. He gave up and pointed at the sign. “I think they got the spacing all wrong, though. Your name, I mean. To be honest, sir, it runs all together. Makes it hard to read.”
Chris took a step back to get a fresh view of his crooked sign. He’d picked up the signs this morning from the printer and never looked at them too closely. He hadn’t wanted to. In fact, he was embarrassed by them, embarrassed by the whole process.
But Marco was right. Mel had chosen the theme and the script for him, colorful and fancy lettering more suited for a movie poster or a carnival banner than a simple sign. It was printed brightly on both sides so that you’d see it coming and going, but it was also most definitely wrong.
RE-ELECT SHERIFF CHRISCHERRY