We held our family as if we’d just learned what the word meant.
Epilogue
That day felt like a year. And that’s how long it would ultimately take to ram this monstrosity of a case through the Arizona court system, where Aaron had been summoned to testify, where I was now waiting out in the hallway for him.
Sierra was orbiting around the corridor like an urban tumbleweed. She’d abandoned her career in kangaroo development and moved on to portrait photography, snapping pictures of random faces wherever we went.
“There,” she said, pointing into the courtroom. The door had opened briefly, giving her a glimpse of the distant witness stand and her daddy taking a seat. “Daddy! He’s handsome.”
She could hardly comprehend how important this was. He was about to provide landmark testimony that would essentially bury the oil titan for good. I could hardly comprehend it myself. All nine active members of the board would sink. The CEO, the previous CEO, the army of vice presidents, Jedediah and all the other judges who were bought off, the late Clay Hobson, everyone whose hands were dirty.
It got too much for me to watch, to be honest. The trial recognized case after case of ravaged families, and last week, while sitting in on testimony from a balding mother of three, two of whom were in caskets, I wound up getting escorted out of the room. For yelling at the defense.
I’m the reason gavels were invented.
As for Aaron’s culpability, our infamous Tuesday in the canyon helped sway any public doubt as to whether we’d duly suffered. I mean, let’s not forget, Aaron was the one person who tried to drown this demon the moment he learned it existed.
“Mommy, that lady is staring,” said Sierra, having just snapped a photo down the hall. She leaned over to show me a woman on her screen, a woman who was now approaching in a high-heeled cadence that echoed across the marble. She was indeed staring. At me.
Soon her stilettos came to a crisp halt right in front of my chair. She was tall, tall like a statue-of-democracy tall, her business suit failing to hide a well-chiseled figure.
“Miranda Cooper,” she said to me. A question with no question mark.
“Uh,” I replied.
“My apologies for being abrupt. My name is Kelly Miles. I have a job offer.”
“Oh.”
“My team fights the kind of battles I think you’d appreciate. And we happen to need a geologist. Someone to cover the Caspian Sea. Someone like you. Someone hard to stop.”
Hard to stop. Is that my new slogan?
“Ah.” The only reply I could think of besides uh and oh.
She looked like she could dent a concrete wall just by glaring at it. I got the feeling she wasn’t offering me a job so much as telling me she already hired me. The Caspian? Isn’t that Russia? And missiles?
“I…” I didn’t know what to say. “I like your…confidence…but…”
“But you’re declining,” she said. Another question with no question mark.
I looked over at Sierra as if she might teleprompt me. Sierra was riffling through her latest photos. Some seventy-five pictures in seventy-five seconds. No help.
“What I am is…” I said, “honored. And, yes, declining. But thank you.”
She smiled. “My card.” She handed me her business card. “You can throw it away as soon as I’m gone. Nice to meet you, Miranda Cooper. You did well.”
She started walking away. And within ten more photos from Sierra, our strange visitor had disappeared around the corner.
I looked down. I contemplated the card. A new frontier. Wild terrain. The thrill of the hunt.
And I crumpled it up.
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About the Authors
James Patterson is the world’s bestselling author and most trusted storyteller. He has created many enduring fictional characters and series, including Alex Cross, the Women’s Murder Club, Michael Bennett, Maximum Ride, Middle School, and I Funny. Among his notable literary collaborations are The President Is Missing, with President Bill Clinton, and the Max Einstein series, produced in partnership with the Albert Einstein Estate. Patterson’s writing career is characterized by a single mission: to prove that there is no such thing as a person who “doesn’t like to read,” only people who haven’t found the right book. He’s given over three million books to schoolkids and the military, donated more than seventy million dollars to support education, and endowed over five thousand college scholarships for teachers. For his prodigious imagination and championship of literacy in America, Patterson was awarded the 2019 National Humanities Medal. The National Book Foundation presented him with the Literarian Award for Outstanding Service to the American Literary Community, and he is also the recipient of an Edgar Award and nine Emmy Awards. He lives in Florida with his family.
Shan Serafin is a novelist and film director whose works include Seventeen, The Forest, and The Believer. Among his recent collaborations with James Patterson are Come and Get Us and The 13-Minute Murder.
Coming Soon
Deadly Cross
The Last Days of John Lennon
The Russian
Walk in My Combat Boots
The Red Book
