“I’m so sorry,” Lance said, blubbering the words as the tears came out.
“Yeah, I know you are,” Jake said.
Jake helped Lance to his feet eventually, and all three were soon seated in silence at the conference-room table, waiting. At some point, the doors to the conference room burst open, and in came a swarm of FBI agents. Seconds after that, Lance was in handcuffs. Jake came over to his brother while he was being read his rights.
“I swung for the fences, little brother,” Lance said. “But you got to understand, I had to take the swing.”
Jake set a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “If you play your life like it’s a baseball game, then someone has to lose,” Jake said. “Those are the rules.”
The FBI escorted Lance in handcuffs to the door, where he paused and looked back at Jake.
“Please tell Andy I’m sorry,” Lance said, “and tell him I love him.” With those parting words, he was gone.
Jake and Ellie stayed awhile, but it was too painful to watch Lance’s life get dismantled. They walked to The Quad and sat on a stone bench and listened to the leaves rustling in the trees. The Pep was in full bloom, and school was just about done for the year. In September, a new crop of students would arrive, and they’d hear stories about what had happened in those tunnels. The Feldman Auditorium would be reopened by then, with all new seating. Pixie’s dad would see to that.
Ellie gazed up at a cloudless sky and took in a breath of fresh air. “What if Soto comes looking for you, Jake? What if Javier talks? What if Soto finds out who you are and what you did?”
Jake looked to the sky as well, put an arm around Ellie, and pulled her in close. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll be prepared.”
Acknowledgments
I love reading the acknowledgments in novels, as much I like writing them. As a reader, it gives me a greater appreciation for what the author went through, and as a writer, I can reflect on those who helped me along the way. Constant Fear was hardly a solo effort. Many people lent their time, expertise and considerable knowledge to the telling of this tale. I’d like to start by thanking my editor, John Scognamiglio, who believed in the story concept from the start and encouraged me to bring it to the page. Equally important is the team at the Jane Rotrosen Agency, especially my fabulous agent, Meg Ruley and fellow agent Rebecca Scherer, who offered keen insights and encouragement along the way.
My amazing mom, Judy Palmer, dedicated innumerable hours to reading various drafts and providing exceptional feedback. I would also like to thank Clair Lamb for her help in shaping this novel into its final form. All things bitcoin came courtesy of Johnny Dilly from Pantera Capital. What I wrote about guns, ammo and such I learned from Ben Beauchemin and Brian Noe of Wicked Weaponry in Hooksett, New Hampshire. Ali Karim, friend to the mystery/thriller writer community, educated me on hazardous chemicals. Susanna Cummings translated all of the Spanish, and if you’re looking for help in that regard I suggest you send her a message at keynotesinc.com. Dr. Richard Dugas educated me about diabetes, and a lot of what I learned about pitching comes from the incomparable book, The Mental ABC’s of Pitching by H.A. Dorfman. I have a newfound appreciation for the art of pitching thanks to this book. All baseball pitchers, regardless of their level, should give it a read.
There is a big back office operation that makes possible the book’s production and distribution. I would like to thank everyone at Kensington: the sales force, the production and art teams, and the marketers and publicists who make it happen. A special thank you goes out to the publisher, Steven Zacharius. His passion for this business is truly infectious.
As always, my family played a pivotal role in this endeavor. So thank you Jessie, Benny, Sophie, and now Monte (our new puppy) for bringing Jake’s motivation to life for me. I’d battle for you guys any day of the week. Thanks also to Matthew, Ethan, and Luke-better brothers a guy couldn’t have.
Every book of mine I’ve acknowledged the contributions of my father, Michael Palmer. This time, however, my dad wasn’t here in person to play a part, but his spirit was with me throughout, and I’ll forever be indebted to his teachings on the craft. Miss you and love you, pop.
And lastly, I want to acknowledge you, my dear readers. Without you, none of this is possible. As for me, well, I have to admit I started canning vegetables after I finished writing this book.
Better to be prepared, I guess.
Daniel Palmer
New Hampshire, 2015
Daniel Palmer
Daniel Palmer is the author of a novel, Delirious. He is also an occasional short story writer, with The Dead Club in the ITW anthology, First Thrills, and Disfigured, found in Thriller: Stories to Keep You Up At Night.Daniel's father is New York Times best-selling novelist Michael Palmer, is the first to admit he never planned a career in publishing. Daniel's earliest passion was music, and songwriting in particular. He spent several years performing in the Boston club scene and has recorded two CDs.
Daniel is actively involved with the Red Sox Home Base program, helping to raise money for veterans suffering from PTSD. Additionally, once each year at ThrillerFest in New York City in July, Daniel and his father can be seen performing humorous songs about writing. Daniel holds a Master's Degree from Boston University. He lives in New Hampshire with his wife and two children.
