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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

“You look old, but otherwise not so bad,” Yanchak had said. “With a little doddering, a little shaky hand, a lot of cops wouldn’t bother to look in your trunk.”

“So do we have a deal?” Beaufort asked.

Yanchak had balked at the fact that the target was in law enforcement.

“You realize this isn’t even a firm thing,” Beaufort had said. “I drive the cash no matter what. Then if the fix becomes necessary, I call you. Otherwise, we’re square.”

Yanchak ultimately agreed to have it done, and said he could make it accidental, but it came with a higher price. Yanchak knew he could trust Beaufort to transport some funds to El Paso for him. Someone you could trust was worth a hit. Beaufort balked in turn at the destination.

“I don’t want to drive to El Paso. That’s, what, a thousand miles?”

“More like fifteen hundred. Hey, I’m sure you can find someone else to do the fix.”

“Okay, okay.” With just a little thought Beaufort decided the deal wasn’t bad at all. It was as if the hit was a bonus. He’d have the cash Yanchak offered him for the drive, a fake license and vehicle registration. And he got to keep the car. There must be a lot of cash in that car, he thought. Good deal for all concerned, except Meadows. And even Meadows might survive this if Beaufort could get to the priest first. If at some point another piece of evidence started to implicate Beaufort, all it would take was a phone call. Then all the cold case files on Walker would be put away because who else cared? No one, according to Meadows.

He just had to make sure that he got to the priest before Meadows did.

He’d got the beige Hyundai in Tampa and a license made out in the name of Jerry Nolan as he requested. Yanchak even threw a gun into the deal. Sweet, as the younger ones in the joint would say.

It had taken him a while to figure out all the modern gadgetry, the automatic windows and such. The sound and sudden movement when he accidentally found the right button made him jump. This whole new world business made him jumpy. Then he’d got on I-75 and headed north about an hour to where St. Dominic’s Abbey was tucked just outside the small town of Tarpon Springs.

He’d found the monastery and announced himself in the reception area, said that he was interested in becoming a monk. He hadn’t been sure how to say it, but they seemed to buy it. Someone named Abbot Franklin greeted him, said that Brother Eric was the usual guest master, but would Beaufort enjoy a brief tour? Of course he didn’t actually say “Beaufort,” as Beaufort had given him the name of Jerry Nolan.