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SUNSET

KEY

BLAKE CROUCH

Copyright © 2013 Blake Crouch

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Crouch, Blake

Sunset key [electronic resource] / Blake Crouch.

(Rapid Reads)

Electronic Monograph

Issued also in print format.

ISBN 9781459802544(pdf) -- ISBN 9781459802551 (epub)

I. Title.  II. Series: Rapid reads (Online)

PS3603.R68S86 2013                   813’.6                 C2012-907308-3

First published in the United States, 2013

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012952477

Summary: When Letty Dobesh sets out to steal an expensive painting from a wealthy convicted felon on one of his last nights of freedom, she gets a good deal more than she bargained for.

Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.

Design by Teresa Bubela

Cover photography by Getty Images

In Canada:

Orca Book Publishers

PO Box 5626, Station B

Victoria, BC Canada

V8R 6S4

In the United States:

Orca Book Publishers

PO Box 468

Custer, WA USA

98240-0468

www.orcabook.com

16 15 14 13 • 4 3 2 1

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

About the Author

CHAPTER ONE

Letty Dobesh came in from the cold to the smell of cooking eggs, bacon and stale coffee. The Waffle House was in College Park, a bad neighborhood in south Atlanta near the airport. She wore a thrift-store trench coat that still smelled of mothballs. Her stomach rumbled. She scanned the restaurant, dizzy with hunger. Her head throbbed. She didn’t want to meet with Javier. The man scared her. He scared a lot of people. But she had $12.23 in her checking account, and she hadn’t eaten in two days. The allure of a free meal was too much to pass up.

She had come twenty minutes early, but he was already there. He sat in a corner booth with a view of the street and the entrance. Watching her. She forced a smile and walked unsteadily down the aisle beside the counter. The points of her heels clicked on the nicotine-stained linoleum.

Sliding into the booth across from Javier, she nodded hello. He was Hispanic with short black hair and flawless brown skin. Every time they met, Letty thought of that saying, “the eyes are the windows to the soul.” Because Javier’s weren’t. They didn’t reveal anything—so clear and blue they seemed fake. Like a pair of rhinestones, with nothing human behind them.

An ancient waitress sidled up to their table with a notepad and a bad perm.

“Get ya’ll something?”

Letty looked at Javier and raised an eyebrow.

He said, “On me.”

“The farmer’s breakfast. Extra side of sausages. Egg whites. Can you make a red eye? And a side of yogurt.”

The waitress turned to Javier.

“And for you, sweetie?”

“Sweetie?”

“What would you like to order, sir?”

“I’ll just eat her fumes. And a water.”

“Ice?” The way she said it, it sounded like ass.

“Surprise me.”

When the waitress had left, Javier studied Letty.

He said finally, “Your cheekbones look like they could cut glass. I thought you’d come into some money.”

“I did.”

“And what? You smoked it all?”

Letty looked at the table. She held her hands in her lap so he wouldn’t see the tremors.

“Let me see your teeth,” he said.

“What?”

“Your teeth. Show me.”

She showed him.

“I’m clean now,” she whispered.

“For how long?”

“A month.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Four days.”

“Because you ran out of money?”

She looked toward the open grill. She was so hungry she could barely stand it.

“Where are you staying?” Javier asked.

“Motel a few blocks away. It’s only paid for through tomorrow.”

“Then what? The streets?”

“You said you had something for me.”

“You’re in no condition.”

“For what, a beauty pageant? I will be.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Jav.” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. He looked down at it and then up at her. Letty let go like she’d touched a burning stovetop. “I need this,” she whispered.

“I don’t.”

The waitress returned with Javier’s water and Letty’s coffee, said, “Food’ll be right up.”

“It’s only day four,” Letty said. “Another week, I’ll be as good as new. When’s the job?”

“It’s too big to risk on a strung-out puta.”

Anyone else, Letty would have fired back with some acid of her own.

Instead, she just repeated her question. “When is it?”

“Eight days.”

“I’ll be fine. Better than.”

He watched her through those unreadable eyes. Said finally, “Would you risk your life for a million-dollar payday? I’m not talking about getting caught. Or going to prison. I mean the real chance of being killed.”

Letty didn’t even hesitate. “Yes. Javier, have I ever let you down?”

“Would you be sitting here breathing if you had?”

Javier looked out the window. Across the street stood a row of storefronts. A pawnshop. A hair salon. A liquor store. Bars down all the windows. There was no one out under the gray winter sky. The roads had already been salted in advance of a rare southern ice storm.

“I like you, Letty. I’m not sure why.”

“You’re not going to ask me why I do this to myself—”

“I don’t care.” He looked back at her. She could see he’d made a decision. “Letty, if you fail me—”

“Trust me, I know.”

“May I finish?” He reached into his water and plucked out a cube of ice. Pushed it around on the table as it slowly melted. “I won’t even bother with you. I’ll go to Jacob first. And when you see me again, I’ll have a part of him to show you.”

She drew in a sudden breath. “How do you know about him?”

“Does it matter?”

The last two months of this crystal bender, she hadn’t allowed herself to think about her son. He’d been taken from her just prior to her last incarceration. He lived in Oregon with his father’s mother. Six years old. She pushed the thought of him into that heavy steel cage inside her chest where she carried more than a little hurt.

The food came. She wiped her eyes.