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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 wouldn’t say. Not even Yanchak knew anything about him from before the time Beaufort started working for him. As the seconds ticked by without Beaufort saying anything, Yanchak said, “Is this anything I should be concerned about? Do I not want to get involved?”

“Nah, it’s just a curiosity question.”

“Right,” Yanchak said. He promised to check around and call back.

Beaufort found himself telling himself he wasn’t stupid. No, he was smart, smarter than that woman. He was going to know everything about her, while she knew nothing about him. Didn’t that make him smarter? Santangelo, that bastard, saying Beaufort was stupid that night at the monastery. The priest didn’t know a thing about Beaufort.

Beaufort timed his call to Carlo late in the afternoon when he thought Carlo might be there and before Gloria got home from work. He accepted an invitation for dinner the following night, while the moon was still dark. He knew how to be careful now that he knew who the Quinn woman was. He would take his bike to the house in case she started to get suspicious and wanted to run his license plate. He was smart, staying on top of every eventuality. And possibly overly cautious, but why take a chance?

Eighteen

You didn’t have to go to a florist for flowers the way you used to. So it was easy to bring Gloria a bouquet regularly. Not a balloon. He saw some with HAPPY RETIREMENT! which meant it wasn’t a kid thing anymore, but he couldn’t cotton to the idea of giving a balloon to an adult. Liquor was a different thing. You could get liquor in grocery stores in Arizona, so with the flowers he picked up a bottle of Grey Goose to restock her liquor cabinet, show he wasn’t a freeloader.

Every time Beaufort handed Gloria a bunch of chrysanthemums she’d start to cry. He had to wait until she was finished before they could get on with the evening, but he sort of liked it. She said she cried because she’d had two abusive husbands and Beaufort was so good to her.

He told her he was celebrating with the flowers and the vodka because he had gotten a part-time job working with horses at a local riding stable down the road at the edge of Catalina State Park.

It wasn’t true.

Gloria pretended the vodka was for her and kissed him on his nose.

He had to admit he actually liked this woman. She could be a real cut-up and make him laugh even if he didn’t always get the joke. Like tonight, her wearing a shirt with flamingos done in sequins, with dangling flamingo earrings to match. Rocking her head to make the flamingos dance, she strutted out of the bedroom. When she saw his doubtful expression, she started to giggle.

“Too understated?” she asked.