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
Someone once said, if you’re being screwed and there’s nothing you can do about it, you might as well lie back and enjoy it. Now, I think whoever said that should have his testicles removed and shoved into his ass, because I’ve know too many women who’ve been screwed when there was nothing they could do about it, and enjoyment doesn’t enter into it. But I can agree with anyone who says when you’re trapped at an airport, eat an entire Cinnabon. When I finished it, I stopped into a nearby restroom to wash my fingers so I wouldn’t get sticky on what I was coming to think of as Hickock’s confession.
Forty–six
Despite Beaufort’s requesting a priest, Carlo had still hesitated opening the door.
“Jerry,” he said, “I’m not in that line of work anymore. Haven’t been for decades. How about I get you in touch with Father Elias Manwaring. You remember meeting him once at the coffee shop inside Bashas’?”
“I don’t want to talk to someone I don’t know. I just want to talk to you.”
Carlo still hesitated. That wasn’t like him. Beaufort thought he must know something. So he put aside the ruse. “Carlo, I know why Brigid went to Florida. She’s looking for information about me, from another time when I did some bad things. And you know, all she had to do is ask and I would have told her. That’s what I want to tell you about.”
Carlo finally turned the lock in the security door and opened it. Beaufort stepped inside and took a deep breath.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Carlo asked, apparently noticing Beaufort’s stress and thinking it was about his confessing his misdeeds.
“Got any bourbon?”
“My goodness, this must be a dark secret indeed.” Carlo moved comfortably to a cupboard next to the stove, opened the door, and pulled out a sliding tray with a half-dozen bottles on it. If he remembered, the priest didn’t remind Jerry that he said he didn’t drink. “Let’s see, gin, Scotch, vodka, Brigid is the vodka drinker … here’s an old bottle of Jim Beam from when she tried to make bourbon balls last Christmas.” He held up the bottle and grimaced as if remembering that the bourbon balls weren’t all that good.
“That’ll do,” Beaufort said. “Join me?”
“I don’t mean to be a stick-in-the-mud, but it’s a little early for me. I’ll have a glass of tonic.”
Carlo poured generously, got his tonic over ice, and the two sat down, Carlo in a wing-backed chair next to his desk, and Beaufort at the end of the couch nearest him.
“I’m really sorry I worried you,” Beaufort started. “I guess I should have said something before now.”