Rori And Jackson: The Sons Of Dusty Walker - Plot & Excerpts
They pushed off from the dock in the pontoon Dusty’d had rigged with every feature Jackson could imagine them needing for fishing. Behind them, their father’s rustic mansion of a house loomed huge over the acres of land, and tens of thousands of feet of lakeshore. Jackson sat at the wheel and flipped on the instruments. Fish finder, depth finder, ship-to-shore radio. Their old man had accumulated more money than he had time to enjoy it. Sad, when Jackson thought of it. The man had been so unhappy in his marriage that he didn’t care to be home with his wife. Maybe it wasn’t a genetic flaw; something Jackson had inherited. Maybe it was just the misguided actions of a man trapped in a life he needed to escape. That seed of doubt, though. It stayed wedged in Jackson’s mind. “What’s that look for?” Dylan set a can of beer wrapped in a company-logoed coozy in the cupholder on the console in front of Jackson, then tipped his own beer back for a long pull. “Wondering about the old man.”
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