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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

Duckworth put the framed picture of Dolores on the front passenger seat of his car, then went to the trunk and took out a roll of yellow crime-scene tape, which he used on the two doors to the house and all accesses to the barn. Not that tape was going to keep anyone out who was intent on getting in, but it would warn anyone who might have entered innocently to stay the hell away. He then called for a patrol car to come and sit on the property until the forensic team showed up.

He couldn’t spend any more time here.

He got into his car and fired up the engine. He knew Promise Falls well enough that he didn’t have to look up Marshall Way. Maybe, he mused, he should quit police work and start up a taxi service. Become one of those Uber drivers. Uber was already in Promise Falls, although he’d never taken advantage of the service. And while the drivers no doubt faced the same risks as any other cab driver, Duckworth was betting none of them had been nearly beaten to death in the course of their duties, as he had.

The Calder residence was a tasteful two-story red-brick house with simple white columns flanking the front door. The yard was meticulously maintained, not a single blade of grass out of alignment where lawn met sidewalk. One of those small Lincoln SUVs, in white, sat on the jet-black driveway, which shone as though wet. It looked to have been resurfaced very recently.

Duckworth went to the door and rang the bell. Seconds later, it was opened by a slim, gray-haired man in his seventies wearing a plaid shirt with a buttoned-down collar, and perfectly creased slacks.

“Yes?” he said.

Duckworth got out his ID and allowed the man to examine it. “Detective Duckworth, Promise Falls Police.”

The man’s nose wrinkled. “Yes?”

“I’m looking for a Cory Calder.”

“He’s not here,” the man said.

“Who are you, sir?”

“Alastair Calder. I’m Cory’s father. Is there some kind of problem?”

“Where would I find Cory?” Duckworth asked.

“I have no idea,” Alastair said.

“Does he live here?”

“He does. But I’m not his minder. He’s a grown man.”

“May I come in, sir? Maybe you can help me clear up a few things.”

Alastair Calder hesitated, then opened the door wider. Duckworth thought he might be offered a seat in the living room, but it looked like a living room no one ever sat in. Vacuum cleaner tracks remained visible in the broadloom.