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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

They’d have to take Albert’s word for it. And let’s face it, he was the assistant manager of the Glens Falls Syracuse Savings and Loan. He was a respected member of the community. Ron Frommer, on the other hand, was—

“Ohhhhh.”

Albert’s head snapped around to look at Ron Frommer. The man’s eyelids were fluttering. He was trying to open his eyes.

He was alive.

“No no no no no,” Albert said.

No, wait, he thought. This was good news, wasn’t it? He hadn’t killed the man. Frommer was alive. If Albert called 911 right now and got an ambulance out here, if they got Frommer to PFG fast enough, they might be able to save him.

Yes. That was very true.

It seemed clear what the right thing to do was.

Except if Ron Frommer lived, he’d be able to tell the police that he hadn’t been threatening Albert Gaffney.

“I was just standing there when he swung that pry bar into my fuckin’ head. Who’d have thunk it, a pussy like that?”

But maybe, Albert thought, he’d hit Frommer hard enough that he wouldn’t remember what had actually happened. It was still going to be one man’s word against another’s.

“Fuckin’ hell, what happened?” Ron Frommer said. He reached a hand up to the side of his head, felt blood, murmured something.

A voice in Albert’s head said, Finish him off.

It would be easy enough. Ron Frommer might be alive, but he was dazed and seriously injured. All Albert had to do was pick up the crowbar and take another whack at him. One should do it. The man wouldn’t be able to offer any resistance.

He took a step over to where he’d dropped the iron bar, picked it up. He stood over Ron Frommer.

When he’d struck the man the first time, he’d been in a blind rage. He hadn’t thought about what he was doing. It was an impulse. He had acted instinctively.

But this was different. He had to make a conscious decision to end this man’s life.

He moved the crowbar from one hand to the other. When he’d hit him before, he had held it with one hand. The next time, he thought, if he used two, swung it almost like a golf club, he’d have more power behind it. He’d knock the bastard’s head clean off.

Suddenly, he felt the urge to vomit.

He turned, ran several feet to the edge of the woods, leaned over, and threw up. Three times.

I can’t do it.

He stood, took a few deep breaths, then went back to his car. He opened the trunk and dropped the crowbar in, slammed the lid. Then he went back to Frommer, got down on his knees and put his mouth up close to the man’s ear.