By Rick Riordan
For Tres Navarre, English professor became deepest investigator, company has in recent years taken a drastic flip south. but when chasing down bail jumpers, adulterous spouses, and workmen’s comp circumstances gave the impression of the dregs of the PI video game, it used to be not less than a dwelling. now not as a lot can be acknowledged for monitoring down a guy like Will “the Ghost” Stirman.The stone-cold killer has simply staged a bloody get away from the Floresville country penal complex with a gang of violent cons as spooked by means of Stirman as these at the outdoor who helped positioned him in the back of bars. And nobody turns out extra apprehensive than Navarre’s boss and mentor, Erainya Manos. It used to be her husband in addition to rival PI Sam Barrera who outfitted the case that despatched Stirman away. yet Erainya’s husband is lifeless and she’s convinced Stirman won’t allow that stand within the means of his taking revenge opposed to her and her followed son.All of Navarre’s instincts are screaming that there’s extra to this situation than meets the attention. yet Erainya won’t inform him—and Sam Barrera looks escaping right into a unusual twilight from a fact too poor to recollect. That leaves Tres to dig right into a twisted secret of greed, vigilantism, and homicide, the place lives are got and offered and the road among guilt and innocence is razor-thin. in the meantime, Stirman and his gang are coming, forsaking them a path of brutal, unforgiving violence that would lead to a space of San Antonio often called Southtown—but that could quickly simply to boot be referred to as hell on the earth.
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Extra resources for Southtown
I couldn’t make out words. Maybe they were arguing about whether they could blow me up without hurting Dimebox. I kept the rope taut around my waist, inching out a step at a time, not even kidding myself that I could keep my footing. The side of the van was the only thing that kept me from being swept away. The worst part was between the cars, where the water shot through like a ravine. When I slipped one foot into the full current, it was like being hooked by a moving train. I was ripped off balance, pulled into the stream.
I can’t swim,” he reminded me. His eyes were calm—that creepy calm I only saw when he tried to remember his life before Erainya, his thoughts thickening into a protective, invisible layer of scar tissue. I shoved him the cell phone. “It’s okay, champ. ” He passed me the rope—fifty feet of standard white propylene. I didn’t know why Erainya stored it in the van. I suppose you never knew when you’d have to tie somebody up. Or maybe Dr. Dreamboat the ENT had strange proclivities. I didn’t want to ask.
Save Dimebox’s sorry ass. Put him in jail. ” “Won’t do you any good, Erainya,” Dimebox snarled. “Bounty money won’t help you worth shit, will it? ” Her voice was harsher than I’d ever heard it. ” “Stirman’s coming. He’s got plenty of friends in the county jail. ” I looked back and forth between them, wondering what I’d missed, or if my brain was still waterlogged. Then the name clicked. “Stirman,” I said. ” “I ain’t staying in jail,” Dimebox said. ” Erainya wouldn’t meet my eyes. I remembered her reaction to the radio news, the intense, almost frantic look she’d given me.
Southtown by Rick Riordan