The Lonesome Young
Page 30
“I love you, Victoria Whitfield.” He took my hand and kissed my fingers, one by one.
“I love you, Mickey Rhodale.”
A Rhodale and a Whitfield, together. Maybe the future didn’t have to carry the weight of the past, after all. Blood might be thicker than water, but love was the most powerful magic of all.
EPILOGUE
Mickey
Two weeks later
I looked up from my menu, wondering why nothing ever looked good when Victoria wasn’t there to share it with me. But it wasn’t Nora. A man I didn’t recognize, wearing a dark blue suit, stood next to my table at the diner with Mr. Judson.
“Mick, this gentleman would like to have a word with you.”
I nodded slowly, and the man sat down across from me.
“I won’t stay, because I don’t want to compromise you, but this place is quiet enough and far enough off the beaten path that we’ll be okay,” he said. “My partner is outside, and he’ll let me know if that changes.”
“Compromise me?” I suddenly had a bad feeling in my gut.
“I’m Agent Vane, from the FBI. We have reason to believe that you might know a little bit about a gang that calls itself the Red Barons, and specifically about this man.”
He put a glossy eight-by-ten of Baron on the table between us.
“I’m hoping we might be able to help each other out.”
I looked at the picture and then up at Agent Vane, and then, for the first time since Ethan had gotten me into this mess, I smiled.
“What exactly do you want to know?”
Acknowledgments
There isn’t enough paper in the world for this, so I’m going to keep it short and save trees.
First, I have to thank my amazing agent, Jim McCarthy, who is always calm when I need him to be but saves me with his wicked sense of humor the rest of the time. Thanks for being my person.
Next, a huge thanks to the unbelievably talented team at Razorbill, who believed in me and the book (the series!) all the way, even when I took crazy left turns. Ben Schrank for his vision, Laura Arnold for her amazing editorial eye, Rebecca Kilman for brilliant editorial insights and brainstorming and for saying “I love your twisty mind!” Also to Tara Fowler and Elyse Marshall for spreading the word to the world, Emily Osborne for the beautiful cover, and Erin Gallagher, Vivian Kirklin, and all of the Razorbill staff for working so very hard for me.
Also, thank you to my amazing friends. A writer’s life is so isolating, and without you, I’d be huddled in the corner watching reality TV. Cindy, Marianne, Eileen, my Flamingos, all of the amazing people on my teenlitauthors group at Yahoo, and my new gang at the Indie Circle. I appreciate the encouragement and advice more than you know. I will bake you all cookies when I’m off deadline!
Thanks to my brother Jerry Holliday, who never even twitches when I call and say, “What kind of gun would a meth dealer carry?” (Because he knows guns, not drugs, I hasten to point out.)
Most of all, thank you to my family. Connor, you are a rock star (or maybe a ninja)! Thanks for the sixteen-year-old-boy perspective. Lauren, my artist, thank you for giggles and hugs and insights. Judd, thanks for love, adventure, crazy laughter, and going along with adopting all those rescue dogs. I couldn’t do any of this without the three of you. (Well, maybe the dog part. But walks would be hard. I get tangled in all those leashes. . . .)