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?
“Because I’m not in the drug interdiction and investigation business. Particularly not in another county. You know that. That’s what you do.”
“C’mon, Chris, that’s not exactly true. You know that better than anyone.”
Chris set his empty beer down. He was done drinking for the night. If Garrison had come to the Far Six to talk about Chuy Machado, or Chris’s stance on drug trafficking in the Big Bend, it had been a long drive for a very short conversation. “What I do know is that I have a handful of deputies who have enough to do just keeping this county policed, all ten thousand acres of it. I’m not going to waste one by shipping him off to chase drug smugglers an entire county away.” What Chris wanted to say was that he wasn’t going to risk one of them, not for that. “If we catch them here, we handle it.”
“Sheriff Machado’s Tejas unit has been catching a lot of them lately.”
“And we’re not?”
Garrison raised his hands. “Put the guns away, Chris. I’m just curious what Chuy Machado is up to. Specifically, his son Johnnie, who runs the unit.”
Chris paused, trying to read Garrison’s face in the retreating light. “Is this where you tell me you’ve been hearing things again? That you think this is like our situation with Sheriff Ross?”
Garrison hesitated, and Chris knew that both of them could agree that no situation, that no one, was exactly like the former sheriff. Garrison shrugged. “Possibly. I don’t know . . .”
“Sounds to me like Chuy’s deputies are doing their job, and doing it well, if that’s what you think the job should be.”
Garrison tapped his bottle against the porch’s railing, a sound that sent faint echoes across the scrub. “Would you consider putting Danny in bed with them for a while?”
“Why?”
“You told me what he did with the Earls, then all that undercover work he did before that for DPS. He’s a natural, and . . .”
“And I’m not asking him to do that again. Not like that, not ever. I’m not helping you run any sort of operation, undercover or otherwise, against another sheriff. I told you I’m out of that business, for good.”
“You can say that, Chris, and tell yourself you believe it, but that doesn’t make it true. It can’t be true. Look at what you found floating in your river yesterday morning.”
“And look at how your last operation down here turned out. How’s Morgan Emerson doing?” In the gloom, Chris could see Garrison’s jaw clench, hard, and the sudden darker cast to eyes that were only focused on him. It was a horrible, shitty thing to say. “I didn’t mean that. That was over the line, way over the line, and I’m sorry.”