Chapter 4: Cliff Road

Mauro was waiting at the Dunmore overlook, where the road bends out over the water.

He had parked a blue pickup in the trees and was standing beside the guardrail with a red gas can at his feet.

I stopped the Mercedes at the edge of the gravel and got out.

"You're early," he said.

"I couldn't sit still."

"You have twenty minutes before the guards look for you. Maybe less."

"Then we shouldn't talk."

Mauro nodded and held out a plastic bag.

Inside it was a folded gray coat identical to mine, torn along one shoulder.

"Keep yours on. I'll drop this one on the rocks, and the tide will bring it to them."

I buttoned my own coat to the throat, and I kept the rosary in my fist.

Then I took off my wedding ring.

It came off hard, because my hands had swelled a little in the past week.

I set it on the dashboard where anyone could see it.

I left my phone in the cup holder, with its screen still lit.

"The blood," Mauro said.

He took a small knife from his pocket and held it out, handle first.

"It has to be yours," he said. "Santo doesn't bury anyone without a sample."

I drew the blade across the heel of my palm and bit down on my lip.

I smeared the red across the steering wheel, the driver's seat and the door handle.

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