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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

Cory’s regret was that this time there would be less artistry. Craig Pierce’s fate had had a certain sense of style to it. And the work he’d mistakenly done on Brian Gaffney was to have been Jeremy Pilford’s fate. If they hadn’t fucked things up, it would have been a fitting punishment.

But Cory wasn’t going to leave that kind of mark on Jeremy now. First of all, it wasn’t feasible in these new circumstances. Not here, not with that old guy hanging around him. Besides, the whole tattoo thing seemed old hat now.

This time, he had to be pragmatic. Do what had to be done. Which was exactly why he’d brought along his father’s Smith & Wesson. That dandy little revolver he kept locked away next to his bed.

The funny thing was, it wasn’t as though Cory had taken it today. He’d used his father’s key to unlock the cabinet, then used the second key from the drawer to unlock the case, months ago.

He had just never needed it until now.

He could have done it on the beach when he ran into Pilford and his friend. He’d had the gun on him at the time. Could have whipped it out. Bam. Bam. All done. But right in the open, in broad daylight, it felt too risky. There was that older couple way up the beach. They might have heard the shots, despite the sound of the waves crashing into shore.

But now it was nearly dark.

The conditions were right.

Forty-Seven

FORTY-SEVEN

DUCKWORTH gave Alastair Calder his card and returned to his car. He keyed the engine, but before driving away he called the station to confirm that they had the emailed photo of Cory Calder. Once that was done, he gave instructions that the entire state, not just Promise Falls, needed to be on the lookout for him. He provided a description of the van, and added a warning.

“Calder is wanted in connection with a homicide investigation. He should be approached with extreme caution. He may be armed.”

Then he raised another matter he had not forgotten about. “Calder’s also wanted for questioning in the disappearance of Carol Beakman.”

He put the phone away and put the car in drive. Next stop: Madeline Plimpton’s house.

He was confident in his assumption that Brian Gaffney had been mistaken for Jeremy Pilford, that the message inscribed on his back was meant for the so-called Big Baby. “Sean,” Duckworth believed, was supposed to be “Sian.”

Once he’d learned Pilford was staying at the Plimpton house in Promise Falls—that there had been a protest there since his arrival—he knew he was on to something. He could feel it. Not only was the young man at risk, so was everyone else in the Plimpton house.

And maybe not just from Cory Calder.