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’ve got two of my people talking to Eddy Rabbit this morning. It’s an active investigation, Royal.”
Royal finished off his coffee and waved the waitress over for more, and as they waited for her to refill his mug, they sat in silence. One side of the Whistle Stop was floor-to-ceiling windows, looking east to the Amtrak line that ran down from El Paso and cut through the heart of the town. Morning sunlight washed through those windows, a heavy glow turning the inside of the café warm. Too warm for the old ceiling fans barely turning above them. After Royal watched the young Hispanic waitress walk away, he started again. “Pardon me if I don’t put much stake in one of your investigations. Last time, we ended up with Murfee on fire and two dead deputies, not to mention that bloodbath down in Killing. As a bonus, I got to have some serious conversations with one very pissed-off FBI agent about some warrants I gave you.”
He was talking about the Earls again . . . and to a lesser extent, Ross, too. It all came back to that—always—and the fact that Chris was not, and never would be, Stanford Ross. Ross and Royal Moody had been good friends for a long time, but Chris often wondered just how much Moody knew about his friend. How much did anyone in Murfee ever truly know, or really want to know, about their former sheriff and all his secrets?
“Completely different, Royal, and you know that.”
“It doesn’t matter. Nothing’s going to come of this. You’re never going to pin those murders on Rabbit.”
“I’m not trying to ‘pin’ them on him. I only want to know what he knows.” Danny had called Chris first thing this morning to tell him he and Amé were on their way to meet with Eddy and his attorney, Paez. Danny had said something about some new information they’d come across, but didn’t spell it out. It’d probably prove to be nothing, but Danny had wanted to press Eddy about it anyway. “What I hear you saying is you’re not going to charge Eddy no matter what we learn. You don’t give a damn about those five dead men. Bethel was right. This is politics. It’s better if this case stays open. Another messy unsolved investigation, another obvious example of my incompetence.”
“That’s a serious accusation, Sheriff. One I don’t appreciate. And those dead unfortunates represent just as much a political asset as a liability, if you can find their murderer . . . fast. Eddy’s as good as anyone, right? Maybe you’re the one who’s been doing the leaking? Didn’t this morning’s editorial refer to your ‘haphazard notions of law enforcement and public accountability’?”
“You didn’t have a hand in writing that?”
Royal blew over his hot coffee, but didn’t answer.