Chapters (65)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- 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
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgments
- Also by Becky Masterman
- About the Author
- Newsletter Sign-up
I genuinely grinned, happy to feel as if we were back to how we always were. “Well, that was helpful. But the question is, what am I going to do?”
“Do?” he asked, his eyes still a little glazed with the thought of what he had been reading.
I kicked his foot with my own. “Hey, Perfesser. Snap out of it. Let’s get back on the original topic, the possibility of Hickock’s confession. What do you know about Victor Santangelo? Is he still alive by any chance?”
“If he is, he’s over ninety. We kept in touch over the years. The last I heard he’s living at St. Dominic’s Abbey, near Tampa. I should call him sometime.”
“Yes, you should. You should call him soon. Like right now? Now is a good time.”
Carlo nodded. He’s not the kind of person who goes instantly from thought to action. At the moment he looked like this was one of the things he would think about for some weeks, and then possibly forget as he thought about something more captivating. Also, in typical guy fashion, he wasn’t one to stay in touch with friends. I could be the same way. If I had friends.
I snapped my fingers to get his attention again. “Is that a coincidence, Beaufort operating around the Gulf Coast before he went to prison?”
“Not so big a coincidence. It’s not like there are Dominican monasteries all over the country.”
“Still, all of this seems to be pointing to a single general location in Florida, that area between Tampa and Sarasota. Remember the Walker family lived outside of Sarasota. I could take a little field trip over there and find out more about this Jeremiah Beaufort and the circumstances of his arrest in Florida, and maybe how that connects to me. Also check out any links to Father Victor Santangelo at the same time.”
I helped Carlo put all the papers back in the bins, and then he went out into the backyard to pull weeds from the gravel coating the ground. I knew him well enough to know that pulling weeds was what he did when he wanted to think.
For my part, I retreated into my office, my thoughts shifting back and forth between Jeremiah Beaufort and Jane in the smooth way that thoughts can. It was that thing where someone pops you in the jaw with their fist and for a brief time after the initial shock you’re numb until the serious pain kicks in.