Chapters (68)
- Dedication
- Title Page
- Contents
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Copyright
I stopped and waited for him to come to me.
“This is not helpful,” he said, stopping six feet short of me, waving the phone in his hand.
“Like I said, we were already here.”
“Where the hell was he, anyway?”
“Arranged a date with a girlfriend from Albany.”
“Son of a bitch. Who?”
“Charlene Wilson.”
He shook his head. “Jesus. Her.”
I nodded in the direction of the sports car. “What’s this? Is this really the car Jeremy was driving when he killed that girl?”
“I didn’t know he was going to bring it. I swear, I don’t know what the hell he was thinking.”
“Galen Broadhurst?”
Bob nodded. “Yes. He needed to see me.”
“And he decided to drive this? What did he want to do? Rub the kid’s nose in it?”
Bob shook his head with frustration. “I know, I know. It was stupid. It’s the first time he’s even driven it since—”
“Bob!”
A man was charging out of the house. Late fifties, gray hair, about two hundred pounds, leather jacket, jeans, black lace-up boots.
“That’s him,” Bob said. “God, I hope he didn’t run into Jeremy. This never should have happened.”
“Why didn’t you tell me the boy was here?” Galen Broadhurst said angrily.
“I tried,” Bob said as Galen closed the distance. When the man reached us, he looked at me and said to Bob, “Who’s this?”
Manners. I liked that.
“This is Cal Weaver,” Bob explained. “We’ve brought him in to assess the risks Jeremy faces.”
He eyed me up and down. “You don’t look like a bodyguard to me.”
I said, “Nice move, parking that car where Jeremy couldn’t miss it.”
“Damn it, I already explained, I didn’t know the kid was here,” he said. “First, the cops had the car for months, then I finally get it back and have to send it out to get it fixed. The front end was—well, hell, how do you think it was? You run someone down and that leaves some damage.”
“To the car, you mean,” I said. “Yeah, that’s a shame.”
Broadhurst pointed to the Porsche. “That’s a classic vehicle that I’ve sunk a fortune into over the years. It’s a terrible thing what happened, no doubt about it. But now that justice has been served and the trial has run its course, surely I’m entitled to get it fixed up again and move on.”
“Of course,” I said. “You want to get on with your life.”
Galen Broadhurst gave me a long look. “You’re kind of a wise guy, aren’t you?”