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?
“Look, I don’t think your ME is in any hurry, to be honest. I know there’s another pathologist on the way to help with this, but they’re not going to get started on the postmortem for another couple of hours.” Delaney turned the ring on his finger—it was a lot harder to hide when it wasn’t covered by the blue nitrile gloves they’d both worn at the scene—and checked his watch. It was gold-colored and big, with green digital numbers, and she could read the time: 5:00 a.m. She had been out at Eddy Rabbit’s trailer all night. “So, you know, you should go home, too, get some sleep. I can call you if it’s anything important,” Ron said, a little too hopefully.
“No, it’s fine. I think I’ll wait here. I couldn’t sleep now anyway.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Sí.”
Delaney turned his ring again, then gave up on it. He was covered in the same dry river mud as she was, and was just as tired. The lights in the morgue were far too bright, too demanding. He squinted beneath them, looking at her. “You’ve never attended one of these postmortems?”
“No. But I think I should. At least once. I think it’s important, and I don’t even know why.”
He smiled, thin, barely there. He rubbed at some mud on his shirt as if he could make it go away, only making it worse. “Because you want answers. You want to understand. But even with all the tests and exams, they never say anything, you know?” He motioned at the bodies. “Not anything that matters. It’s impossible to ever understand how they end up here, how they end up this way. I’ve done this for ten years, and I never have. Trust me, once will be enough.”
“I hope so,” she said, trying not to stare at the pale, smooth face of the young boy who now, for some reason, reminded her of Caleb Ross.
But she hadn’t seen Caleb in five years. She had no idea what he looked like now, how he might have changed.
Ron looked away, embarrassed. “Hey, look, I’m sorry about this . . . I’m worn-out. Five bodies at one time, it’s a lot to take in. That was a tough scene.” Then he added, “But you know, they’re all tough in their own way.”
“No, it’s fine. It really is. Entiendo.”
Ron stared down at his boots, still embarrassed. “Well, since I can’t offer you any answers, how about some coffee down in the cafeteria?” He tried a smile, still awkward, but at least genuine. “We got some time to kill . . . if you know what I mean.” He watched her, waiting for her to laugh. “Yeah, that’s an old CST joke. Gallows humor. Most folks find it funny. Kills ’em every time.”