MississippiBlood - (EPUB全文下载)

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Dedication
For Betty and Jerry Iles,
who came out of tiny southern towns and climbed books like stairs to rise.
Thank you for everything.
Epigraph
For the truth is a terrible thing. You dabble your foot in it and it is nothing. But you walk a little farther and you feel
it pull you like an undertow or a whirlpool. First there is the slow pull so steady and gradual you scarcely notice it, then
the acceleration, then the dizzy whirl and plunge into darkness. For there is a blackness of truth, too. They say it is a
terrible thing to fall into the Grace of God. I am prepared to believe that.

—Robert Penn Warren, All the King’s Men
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Epigraph
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Greg Iles
Copyright
About the Publisher
Prologue
Grief is the most solitary emotion; it makes islands of us all.
I’ve spent a lot of time visiting graves over the past few weeks. Sometimes with Annie, but mostly alone. The people who see
me there give me a wide berth. I’m not sure why. For thirty miles around, almost everyone knows me. Penn Cage, the mayor of
Natchez, Mississippi. When they avoid me—waving from a distance, if at all, then hurrying on their way—I sometimes wonder
if I have taken on the mantle of death. Jewel Washington, the county coroner and a true friend, pulled me aside in City Hall
last week and told me I look like living proof that ghosts exist. Maybe they do. Since Caitlin died, I have felt like nothing
more than the ghost of myself.

Perhaps that’s w ............

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