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

But at the last booth, right ahead of the door to the kitchen, I could make out half a body. A leg, part of a shoulder, an arm on the table.

I walked past the other booths, and when I got to the last one, I offered up a smile.

“You still thinking of selling that Porsche?” I asked.

Galen Broadhurst looked too stunned to answer.

Sixty-Three

SIXTY-THREE

CAL

GALEN Broadhurst’s body language told me he was seriously considering slipping out of the booth and making a run for it.

“Don’t even think about it,” I said, sliding in across from him. “You might be able to outrun me in your Porsche, but on foot, you haven’t got a chance.”

Broadhurst resignedly shifted his butt back to the center of the bench. The table between us was bare.

“You didn’t order anything?” I said. “The coffee’s very good here.” I gave a wave to the waitress, who shuffled down our way. “Hey, Sylvie, how’s it going?”

“Good, Cal,” she said. “You?”

“Just great. Two coffees, I guess.” I glanced at Broadhurst. “Or are you a tea man?”

“Coffee,” he said quietly.

“Anything to eat?” Sylvie asked.

I pursed my lips. “I think we’ll just start with coffee and see where it goes from there.”

Sylvie nodded and slid away.

I turned to look at Broadhurst. “In the movies, this is where you’d say you thought I was dead.”

“I’m not saying a fucking thing,” he said. “You’re probably wired for sound anyway.”

“Would you like to check?” I asked, and held out my arms, inviting him to pat me down.

“Open your shirt,” he said.

I smiled and as I undid the buttons said, “A little musical accompaniment would be nice.”

I opened my shirt wide to reveal my chest and stomach. No wire, no eavesdropping devices.

“Satisfied?” I said.

Broadhurst made a grunting noise. I did up my buttons quickly. Didn’t want to give Sylvie heart palpitations.

“You know who I thought you were going to be?” I said.

Broadhurst waited.

“Grant Finch. Your lawyer friend, who did such a standup job defending Jeremy. Because it was him I raised my concerns with. So I guess then he talked to you to discuss our phone call. And you got very, very scared. Sound about right?”

Broadhurst remained silent.