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?
America smiled back, letting him know that it was all okay. “Sure, that sounds good.”
—
THE PATHOLOGIST STARTED with a complete external examination of each body, talking quickly into the hanging microphone above his head, noting the old scars and faded tattoos and the variety of damage that had been inflicted on the dead: bullet wounds, sharp vertical slashes attributed to a heavy-edged weapon—something like a machete or large knife—and then the work of the weather and the river and the predators that prowled its banks.
Pictures were taken, a camera clicking away.
The internal exam started with a Y-shaped incision at the shoulders, meeting at the sternum and working down to the pubic bone. Mottled skin was pulled back and separated to reveal glossy ribs and a distended stomach. The entire whiteness of the rib cage was removed to get to the neck and chest organs, which were taken out and weighed and examined.
Trachea. Thyroid gland. Parathyroid glands. Esophagus. Lungs. Thoracic aorta.
Heart. Corazón.
Each heart looked far too small to have beat within the body that held it, and tidal blood washed down the tables, disappearing into metal drains.
The blood was red and then black in the cold air.
Bullets and metal fragments were pulled into the light, washed with water, and set aside, gleaming in the hard, unforgiving light.
After that, the abdominal muscles were dissected and separated: intestines, liver, gallbladder, kidney, reproductive organs.
When these things were cut free they appeared colorless, faded, and discarded beneath the overhead lights, as each body was turned inside out and put on display.
Finally, the pathologist moved to the scalp, cutting it away from the skull and pulling it forward.
When the young boy’s face was removed, America had to turn away, run from the room, realizing then that she’d been wrong—he didn’t look so much like Caleb anymore, but rather Rodolfo, as she remembered him from when she was a little girl.
Ron Delaney, though, had been right all along. This boy, naked and exposed and carved open, was never going to say anything again.
And seeing it all once was enough.
—
DELANEY CAUGHT UP WITH HER OUTSIDE, standing in the parking lot. She hadn’t smoked in a long time, but thought she could use a cigarette now.