Hunting Season
Chapter One
The priest was droning on inexorably toward "till death do us part," and Anna
began to get nervous. At some point over the years, the well-worn phrase had
come to feel more like a sinister threat than a romantic promise.
Death had parted Anna from her husband years before, sudden and pointless death
delivered by a cab driver on Ninth Avenue in Manhattan. Judging from the
internal damage to Zach's body, the NYPD accident investigator estimated the cab
was traveling at fifty to sixty miles per hour on a city street. The impact had
knocked Zach out of his shoes. They were found, still laced, sixty feet from his
body, a detail Anna hadn't needed to know then and didn't like remembering
now.
Nearly a hundred people had witnessed the accident; a baker's dozen stayed to
tell their story to the police. No one had gotten the cab's license plate
number. No one heard the squeal of brakes. There were no marks on the asphalt to
indicate the cabbie had tried to stop or even swerve.
"Drunk or high," the accident investigator had offered. "Or maybe just didn't
know where the brake pedal was. Some of these guys g ... read full excerpt from: Hunting Season ebook
