BooksBarbecue
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

“What happened with Dolly,” he said, “was not the way I wanted things to go. But she was freaking out. I think she was going to go to the police, tell them everything. What was I supposed to do? Right? She’d lost sight of how important it was, what we’ve been doing.”

He’d glance back sometimes into the cargo area, say, “I’m going to be famous. People are going to talk about me. I’m making a difference. You know what I am? I’m an instrument. An instrument of justice. Of revenge.”

He kept asking her what he should do next.

“It can’t be like the others,” he said. “Not like Pierce, not even like the one we fucked up. This time, it’s just a matter of getting the job done. Brought a little something of my dad’s to help me out.”

Total fucking whackjob.

For a while, she wondered, when she was in her more delirious state, whether he was with MetLife or something. Kept talking about her getting insurance. Then she realized she was the insurance. Yeah, that was what he was saying. Like she was a kind of hostage or something. His ace in the hole. When things went south, she was his ticket to safety.

Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe that meant he would keep her alive. But it didn’t mean that Carol Beakman wasn’t very, very frightened.

She wondered what services he might be expecting her to provide beyond hostage. So far, there was nothing to suggest that sexual predator was part of his profile. Not that that was any great comfort.

Stop thinking about that. Think about getting away. Think think think think.

When they’d reached their destination, she’d had the sense of being moved from the van into a building. Being carried over Cory’s shoulder, then being placed on a bed, a cot. Like one of those rollaway beds made of springs, with tubular metal framing. He put her face-down, tied her wrists to the top frame, ankles to the bottom.

Got her a blanket.

“I don’t think it’s worth making a fire,” he said. “And smoke coming out the chimney’s going to attract attention, maybe, you know?”

He gave her a nudge. “You waking up? You’ve been out a long time.”

She said nothing.

“You should be good for a while,” he said.

Again she said nothing. She’d been keeping her eyes closed as she regained consciousness, opening them only to slits to take in her surroundings. Then, if she heard the door open and close, and didn’t hear his breathing, she’d open her eyes wide.