If you were planning a lazy Sunday at home, there's still time to catch up on the first four episodes before it goes live.
This week on Shadow Unit:
The gun you dream of was your great grandfather's, that he gave to Grandpa before he died. A revolver--worn wooden grip and dull grey metal, cool under your cautious fingers. Heavier than you expect and you nearly drop it; your heart races sick and dizzy before you tighten your grip. A lighter space remains on the yellowing lace doily, the ghost of a gun.
Sheriff McCutcheon's theory was that Brattonville had a sniper.
"A sniper?" Brady said, doing that politely disbelieving thing where he never quite raised his eyebrows.
"We got plenty of vets," the sheriff said, as if a dearth would be an insult to the county's manhood. "Korea, 'Nam, Persian Gulf. We got boys with training."
"And you think one of them has, what? Run amok?" Lau said.
"I fucked up."
Brady didn't like hearing that tone in Lau's voice, flat and just a little too high pitched. He turned and started back toward the table and Frost and the body. "Is it the same M.O.?"
"Shot through the heart," Lau said. "And one of the other guns is missing. Did I mention I don't know where the host is?"
Just remember, if you don't mind.
It's not the gun that kills, but the man behind.