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Chapters (57)
  1. Welcome to the Game
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraphs
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. Six months later . . .
  56. Acknowledgments
  57. Back Cover

Spencer’s shoulders sagged. He had a chance of something new, in a new city. He quested for some inner pool of resolve that might bestow substance on whatever words he found.

“Dom, I haven’t ever been to war or been in the army. All I’ve done, till I met you, is race cars. And when I got married, I became a salesman. I worked for you and, yeah, I guess it was fine. But it isn’t for me just because . . . I like selling cars more.”

With that, he rose, offering McGrath his hand. “It’s been a pleasure. You’re on another level. Look me up when you need more car advice.” And the chat was back. Spencer felt it.

Nearly through the circle of fire.

McGrath obviously felt it, too, because he took Spencer’s hand, looked him in the eye, and smiled. He glanced down at their clasped hands and at Spencer’s wrist.

“Sure am sad about that watch of yours.”

“It meant a lot to me but, hey, one of those things, I guess.”

Fuck the watch.

He could almost hear Marielle yelling it.

McGrath nodded. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

Spencer sat in Chris’s Prius in the loading bay, engine on, window down, elbow resting on the sill. He looked relaxed, but the fingers of his right hand were curled around the shift, applying light pressure, eager to slot Penny into Drive.

“Got something lined up?” asked McGrath.

“Just some promising leads to follow up, that kind of thing.”

Spencer noticed Eddie watching from his car.

It’s all yours, Eddie.

“Staying local?” asked McGrath.

“Yeah, most likely.”

McGrath suddenly slapped the roof, startling Spencer. “Damn! What the hell was I thinking? Hey, Johnny Boy, we nearly forgot Spencer’s surprise.”

Spencer instinctively looked around for the Yo-Yo.

Johnny Boy appeared at the other window. “Hey, Spencer. Still set on leaving?”

“Yeah but, uh, don’t think I don’t know where I stand with you guys.”

Johnny Boy’s hand was heading for his jacket pocket.

“I’m part of what happened the other night, so I’m not going to, you know, say anything, to like anyone.”

Johnny Boy watched him, with those eyes that had no color, cut nearly in half by sagging lids. Assessing. Emotionless.

Spencer didn’t notice McGrath reach into the car and turn off his engine.

“Give it to him, Johnny Boy,” said McGrath.

Spencer floored the gas pedal and . . .

Nothing happened. He turned back to Johnny Boy, who was extracting some heavy metal from his pocket.

21

21

The True Way of Things

The watch landed on the seat next to him with a thump. He stared at it, glanced up at Johnny Boy, around at McGrath, and back at the watch.

Could it be?