CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
1
Garrou sat in his Crisfield home smoking a cigar as he watched the crabbers sail in and out of the Chesapeake, the late October sky gray with low-hanging clouds that threatened rain. He loved the dark, choppy dark waters this time of year, the salty sea air, the squawking gulls, and especially the view his house afforded him overlooking it all.
He always found the steady, regular flow of crabbers coming and going to be somehow relaxing, soothing. It was particularly so at moments like this when he sat in such a silent rage he wanted to tear people to bloody shreds.
Where are they? Where the f**k are they?!
2
It had been two weeks since he’d lost track of Peter and Angie, and in that time his mood had spread like a black thundercloud creeping in on a summer afte
