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Dennis Lehane returns to the streets of Mystic River with this love story wrapped in a crime story wrapped in a journey of faith—the basis for the major motion picture The Drop, from Fox Searchlight Pictures directed by Michaël Roskam, screenplay by Dennis Lehane, and starring Tom Hardy, Noomi Rapace, and James Gandolfini.
Three days after Christmas, a lonely bartender looking for a reason to live rescues an abused puppy from a trash can and meets a damaged woman looking for something to believe in. As their relationship grows, they cross paths with the Chechen mafia; a man grown dangerous with age and thwarted hopes; two hapless stick-up artists; a very curious cop; and the original owner of the puppy, who wants his dog back. . . .
destination, then Hell must hold twice as many souls. Bob hadn’t even realized he’d lowered his head until he raised it. To the left of the fourth station of the cross was Saint Agatha, patron saint of nurses and bakers, among other things, and to the right was Saint Rocco, patron saint of bachelors, pilgrims, and . . . Bob stepped back in the aisle to get a better look at a stained glass window he’d passed so many times he’d long since lost his ability to see it. And there in the lower
was weird that it usually worked like that, and then he thought: Nadia. I wonder what she’s up to these days. CHAPTER 9 Stay THEY HADN’T SEEN RARDY since the robbery. He’d been discharged from the hospital the next day, they knew that much, but from there he’d gone ghost. They talked it over in the empty bar one morning, half the chairs still up on the tables and the bar top. Cousin Marv said, “It ain’t like him.” Bob had the paper spread on the bar before him. It was official—the
face. “I know, right?” she said. “He hides it pretty good but he’s maintenance nipping from the time he’s up in the AM.” Bob said, “I’ve seen him take a drink.” “The little airplane bottles?” Moira said. “He keeps them in his coat. So, I dunno, he could be with his brothers or some of his old friends from Tuttle Park.” “When’s the last time?” Bob asked. “I saw him? Couple days. Prick’s done this to me before, though.” “You try calling him?” Moira sighed. “He don’t answer his cell.” The
duffel bag that required two guys to lift it into the back of the van. He would have thought they’d have more than one bag. All that money? He rolled down his window as they drove off and flicked his cigarette out onto the crust of snow by the hydrant. The cigarette rolled off the hard mound, rolled down the curb, and hissed when it found a puddle there. Another thing he’d need to do when he got to Thailand—quit smoking. It was enough already. He went to roll the window up and saw a guy
only wished she’d done it sooner, before Peter was old enough to miss his parents. He’d been staying with her sister in Lutz that fateful weekend because Theresa had wanted him out of the line of fire when she kicked Tony out of his own house. His drinking, whoring, and black moods had been spiraling out of control since the summer, and Theresa had finally reached her limit. Tony hadn’t reached his, though, which is how he came to hit her with a wine bottle and how she came to crush his fucking