The Power of the Dog

by Don Winslow

  The murder of Cardinal Juan Parada is still officially ruled an unfortunate accident.

  Art supposes he should be bitter.

  Sometimes he tries to be, but it feels like a slightly ridiculous parody of a former life, and he drops it. Althie and the kids—Hell, he thinks, they aren’t kids anymore—are coming for a quick visit this afternoon, and he wants to be cheerful.

  He doesn’t know yet what will happen, how long he will have to spend in this limbo, whether he’ll ever get out. He accepts it as penance. He still doesn’t know if he believes in God, but he has hope of a God.

  And maybe that’s the best we can do in this world, he thinks as he gets up to resume watering the flowers—tend to the garden and maintain the hope of a God.

  Against all evidence to the contrary.

  He watches the water bead silver on the petals.

  And mutters a snatch of an odd prayer he once heard, which he doesn’t quite understand but that nevertheless sticks in his head—

  Deliver my soul from the sword.

  My love from the power of the dog.

  A Note About the Author

  Don Winslow’s previous novels include

  The Death and Life of Bobby Z

  And…California Fire and Life

  THE END