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Back Parting Shot Save as PDF
Chapters (68)
  1. Dedication
  2. Title Page
  3. Contents
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Thirteen
  16. Fourteen
  17. Fifteen
  18. Sixteen
  19. Seventeen
  20. Eighteen
  21. Nineteen
  22. Twenty
  23. Twenty-One
  24. Twenty-Two
  25. Twenty-Three
  26. Twenty-Four
  27. Twenty-Five
  28. Twenty-Six
  29. Twenty-Seven
  30. Twenty-Eight
  31. Twenty-Nine
  32. Thirty
  33. Thirty-One
  34. Thirty-Two
  35. Thirty-Three
  36. Thirty-Four
  37. Thirty-Five
  38. Thirty-Six
  39. Thirty-Seven
  40. Thirty-Eight
  41. Thirty-Nine
  42. Forty
  43. Forty-One
  44. Forty-Two
  45. Forty-Three
  46. Forty-Four
  47. Forty-Five
  48. Forty-Six
  49. Forty-Seven
  50. Forty-Eight
  51. Forty-Nine
  52. Fifty
  53. Fifty-One
  54. Fifty-Two
  55. Fifty-Three
  56. Fifty-Four
  57. Fifty-Five
  58. Fifty-Six
  59. Fifty-Seven
  60. Fifty-Eight
  61. Fifty-Nine
  62. Sixty
  63. Sixty-One
  64. Sixty-Two
  65. Sixty-Three
  66. Sixty-Four
  67. Sixty-Five
  68. Copyright

The man shook his head. “No, no. It’s just, I did a tatt for him not long ago.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. Nice guy.”

“When was this exactly?”

Mike thought. “Two weeks, maybe? I don’t know. Around the time my tattoo gun was stolen, I think. Listen, say hi to him for me, will you?”

“Yeah,” Duckworth said. “I’ll be sure to do that.”

Thirty-Two

THIRTY-TWO

CAL

IT dawned on me that in all the morning chaos, Jeremy and I had missed breakfast. By the time we’d finished with the hospital and been chewed out by Charlene Wilson’s mother, it was pushing eleven in the morning.

“You hungry?” I asked as we drove back to the hotel. We still had to grab our stuff and settle up with the front desk.

“I don’t know,” Jeremy said, his voice barely above a whisper.

In the twenty-four hours that I’d known this kid, this was the worst I’d seen him. The morning’s events had left him shaken. Up to now, my feelings about him had been mixed. A troubled young man, for sure, but also a pain in the ass. For the first time, I actually felt worried for him.

It was seeing him pound his own leg hard enough to hurt himself that had sparked my concern. I wondered if that was a one-off, or if I needed to be worried about Jeremy doing anything else to cause himself harm.

“We’ll hit the hotel and grab our bags, then figure out what to do next,” I said.

Nothing.

Whatever the police had decided to do about those two clowns who’d run into the back of Charlene’s car, they were no longer at the hotel. The cops, and the couple who wanted a picture of Jeremy, were gone. So was their car. But Charlene’s little Miata was there, waiting to be picked up.

I didn’t want to leave Jeremy alone, so I had him come back to the room with me. We quickly packed—we hardly had anything anyway—and headed back down to the lobby, where I paid our bill.

The man at the front desk said, “That sure was something.”

“Huh?”

“Out front this morning,” he said.

“Oh, yeah. Do you know what the cops did with those two?”

He shook his head. “Took some statements then let them go on their way, far as I could tell.”

I grunted. Then I thought of something.

“Did you have anyone staying here last night with a black van?”

The man grinned. “Is that a serious question?”

“I saw one driving out of the lot about the time of the accident. I thought it might be someone I know.”

“Sir, we take down car makes and license plate info, but I couldn’t tell you if we had a guest with a black van.”

“Sure, of course,” I said. “Dumb question.”