A Thousand Tombs Read Free

that after his brother died, he’d felt comatose for longer than he would have thought possible. He hadn’t known what to do with a life without Jimmy in it.
    So he stuck to their plan.
    The stable, family-oriented neighborhood was the opposite of the city, where unrelenting progress toward upscale was the norm. Mack liked it there. The community was tight. The residents cared about each other, and they wanted their slice of the pie to stay exactly the way it was.
    And for the most part, it had.
    The trio piled out of the truck and went inside. A big, yawning, nondescript brown mutt rose from a bed on the living room floor and trotted out to greet them.
    Mack had found Stella when he was a uniform and she was a half-grown stray, running the streets. She looked like she was a mix of retriever and shepherd; back then, she was scrawny and scabbed and desperately needed help, and so did Mack. He’d hauled the dog into his black-and-white and brought her home and nursed her back to health, and Stella adored him for it.
    Gen wondered if he would try to do the same with Luca. If that was his strategy, she hoped the kid didn’t break his heart.
    “Hey Stella,” Mack said. “Brought you a friend.”
    Luca dropped to his knees and offered a hand. “Hello girl,” he cooed. His voice was gentle, tinged with happiness and longing. Stella snuffled his fingers, then, after careful consideration, she wagged her long, feathered tail.
    He stroked the dog’s broad head slowly. When Stella sat on her haunches beside him, Luca scooted over and threw an arm around her and hugged her tight, then buried his face in the thick fur on her neck and whispered.
    Gen and Mack stared at one another again, this time with a shared look of compassion. Mack was probably feeling what she was feeling, which was appalled at the kid’s current state and grateful for their own good fortune.
    He held out his hand, and she laced her fingers with his.
    Gen had been surprised the first time she’d come to the house. They’d been dating since mid-August, and after a few weeks of candlelit suppers out and a proper courting, he’d invited her here for dinner. He was a bachelor, so she’d braced herself for an old leather couch and a big screen, and not much else. But once again, Mackenzie Hackett was a surprise.
    His place was masculine, no doubt about it. But the floors were distressed hickory planks, the area rugs were thick, and the furniture was eclectic and comfortable, not the shabby cast-offs many single men were content to own. She knew before she came that he was interested in art, so the framed oils were expected.
    The biggest surprise was the handful of metal sculptures sprinkled among the décor: a woman, rendered in rusty chunks, stark and beautiful and evocative. A copse of standing trees, so delicate that the leaves appeared to shiver when she passed. The third was in the kitchen, a pan rack hung from the ceiling, formed of intricate intertwined hands.
    “Put your things in here.” Mack spoke to the boy as he opened the door to the guest room. “Bathroom’s that door, there. If you want to take a shower later, there’s clean towels in the cabinet. Help yourself. For now, stow your stuff. Come on back when you’re ready and we’ll talk.”
    Then she and Mack went into the kitchen. He pulled a bottle of Corona from the fridge and held it up.
    “No thanks,” she said. “I should take off soon, and I already had wine for dinner. You know how the authorities feel about drinking and driving.”
    He smiled, but there was a distinct air of disappointment in it. “I’m sorry, Genny.” He put the beer back in the fridge and turned to face her.
    “Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t have wanted it to work out any other way.”
    His eyebrows went up.
    “I mean about the kid, Mack, not our sleepover.” Tonight was to have been the night. No way that was going to happen now.
    They’d taken it slow, spent a lot of time just developing a