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Back We Were Killers Once Save as PDF
Chapters (65)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Sixteen
  20. Seventeen
  21. Eighteen
  22. Nineteen
  23. Twenty
  24. Twenty–one
  25. Twenty–two
  26. Twenty–three
  27. Twenty–four
  28. Twenty–five
  29. Twenty–six
  30. Twenty–seven
  31. Twenty–eight
  32. Twenty–nine
  33. Thirty
  34. Thirty–one
  35. Thirty–two
  36. Thirty–three
  37. Thirty–four
  38. Thirty–five
  39. Thirty–six
  40. Thirty–seven
  41. Thirty–eight
  42. Thirty–nine
  43. Forty
  44. Forty–one
  45. Forty–two
  46. Forty–three
  47. Forty–four
  48. Forty–five
  49. Forty–six
  50. Forty–seven
  51. Forty–eight
  52. Forty–nine
  53. Fifty
  54. Fifty–one
  55. Fifty–two
  56. Fifty–three
  57. Fifty–four
  58. Fifty–five
  59. Fifty–six
  60. Fifty–seven
  61. Author’s Note
  62. Acknowledgments
  63. Also by Becky Masterman
  64. About the Author
  65. Newsletter Sign-up

Beaufort took his car this time, no worries about the license being checked, parked in the front drive, walked up the front walk, and rang the doorbell. The surveillance camera was new, and the motion detector lights went on, showing that she expected to be gone that night and didn’t trust her husband to activate them. The woman wasn’t totally stupid, but he wasn’t worried about being caught on film. By the time she saw it he would have found what he was looking for, and then he and Carlo would both disappear without a trace, Carlo to be disposed of once he was over the border where that kind of thing happened more easily.

He doffed his cap at the camera.

No one was coming. He rang the doorbell again, and that was when he noticed there was no chimey sound from inside the way there had been on his previous visit. He rapped on the screen door instead. The impact reverberated through him and set off the dogs inside.

Carlo pulled open the main door but left the screen shut, and, presumably, locked. He seemed uncomfortable. No, it was more distraught. “Well, hello, Jerry,” Carlo said. “Sorry, I was watching the news. Really upset that Brigid was with that poor man just minutes before he was shot.”

“That’s terrible,” Beaufort said, casting around in his mind for the thing that would open the door. Finally went with “Could I come in?”

“I was actually, just…” Carlo might have said any number of things. Going to walk the dogs. On his way to a dental appointment. But Carlo was not a good liar, at least not off the cuff, at least when his mind was so preoccupied with his wife’s safety. His “just” trailed off in the style of an evangelical minister who has run out of prayer ideas and is trying to fill the gap.

Beaufort pulled off his cap and said the only thing that would likely make this sucker open the door to him. The one thing Carlo could not resist. “I want to make my confession,” he said.

Forty–five

Sitting there in the synagogue, engrossed in this document that felt like some ancient parchment holding long-lost mysteries, I had let the time slip by. When I glanced at my watch I saw I had less than half an hour to get to the airport. I put the pages back into the envelope as quickly as I could without damaging them, and hustled my way into the parking lot, empty except for my rental car.