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Back The Night Bird
Chapters (60)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Dedication
  4. CONTENTS
  5. Start Reading
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. FROM THE AUTHOR
  59. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  60. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

She reached her arms out to embrace him, but at that moment, he heard his phone ringing in his pocket. He checked his caller ID and saw Francesca Stein’s name. He glanced at Lucy, who gave him a broken smile and waved him away. He stood up and answered the call. “Dr. Stein?”

“Hello, Inspector.”

The cool maturity in the psychiatrist’s voice was such a contrast to the youth and innocence of Lucy Hagen. They were two very different women. He also noticed something strange. Lucy clapped her hands over her ears to block out the sound of Dr. Stein’s voice through his phone.

“How are you feeling today?” he asked Frankie. “Are you okay? You had me worried last night.”

“I’m fine, but I need to see you,” she replied. “The patient I’ve been protecting is a man named Todd Ferris. We need to find him right away.”

39

39

“That’s Darren Newman’s house,” Frankie told Frost.

The detective put down his binoculars, which were trained on a Victorian house on Oak Street, opposite the narrow strip of Panhandle Park. The house looked like one of the painted ladies snipped out of a postcard of Alamo Square. It was narrow, with a paisley design on its green-and-lilac trim and red steps leading up to the door. The roof featured a single gable with a bay window in the middle.

The park’s century-old eucalyptus trees towered over their heads and scattered dagger-shaped leaves across the green grass. It was early evening, and the dark clouds had turned to mist, making their faces damp. More rain was coming.

“Newman’s at home,” Frost said. “I can see him inside.”

“I haven’t seen Todd, but I’m sure he’s going to show up here sooner or later.”

“And he said he would kill Newman?” Frost asked.

“He did. That’s the only reason I can tell you about any of this, Inspector. Todd is on the brink. I don’t know what he’ll do. Although honestly, I’m more worried that Darren will do something to him when he realizes that Todd has figured out what’s going on.”

Moisture from the drizzle gave a wet shine to Frost’s hair and beard. He shifted the binoculars to the parked cars on Oak Street. He panned along the sidewalk and the park’s dense trees, but the spitting rain had driven everyone away. They were alone.

“No one else is watching the house,” he said.

“I saw Todd’s face. He was serious. He’ll be here.”

They waited silently. Traffic came and went behind them, kicking up spray. Frankie kept her eyes on the old Victorian, but in the wet and cold, her mind drifted to the cliffs of Point Reyes. When she thought about that last weekend with her father, she could see him clearly now, broken body below her on the rocks. Face looking up at her. Blood.