eating dinner, homemade lasagna. Tonka lay curled under his feet, chewing happily on a piece.
“I should have shot through the hatch. But I couldn’t see the setup inside—”
“The whole world was looking for him, and you almost saved him by yourself.”
“Only I didn’t.”
She didn’t say anything, just stood, walked behind him, wrapped her arms around him.
“Something else that’s bothering me.” He told her Kurland’s last words. “What I don’t understand, why wouldn’t he say he loved her instead? He did, too, even in those few seconds I could tell. And it was the same when I met her.”
“You really don’t see?”
He tilted his head so he was looking over his shoulder, into her eyes. “No.”
“Saying it would have dishonored what they had. He didn’t have to, John. She already knew.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
One problem with writing a book a year is that the acknowledgments can get stale. But the crew at Putnam never does. They’re as hardworking as ever. Thanks to Neil, Ivan, Leslie, Tom, Marilyn, and everyone else who makes these novels more than a Word file. Thanks to Heather and Matthew, agents extraordinaire. Thanks to Susan Buckley and Dev for watching my back. Thanks to Deirdre and Jess for those close first reads, and for not being afraid to say what doesn’t work, and what does. Thanks to my parents and brother for your support and suggestions. Most of all, thanks to Jackie, my wife, who always finds the time and energy to be a great friend and partner.
And — this part never gets stale either — thanks to everyone who took the time to read this far. Without you, John Wells would have retired a long time ago. I appreciate your feedback, and you can always reach me at alexberensonauthor@gmail.com and follow me on Facebook and Twitter. I can’t promise to respond (though until now I’ve managed to write back to just about everyone), but I pledge to read every note I get.
