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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 thought of the book he saw at Gloria’s place. “I’m reading one by J. K. Rowling and it’s good,” he said. “I think I’ll get some more of his books.”

“Ye-s-s,” Carlo said with a look that Beaufort couldn’t read. He walked over to a tiny desk against the wall under a window and picked up a manila envelope darkened to orange with age. “Speaking of Father Santangelo. Just the other day I was talking about that time and dug this old thing out. Maybe you’ll be interested.” Carlo opened the flap that had once been sealed with tape that had lost its stickiness long ago, and pulled out a sketch of Richard Hickock. “Do you recognize this?”

He knew it from the moment Carlo had mentioned Victor Santangelo. At last. At fuckin’ last! “No,” he said. “Who is it?”

“It’s a sketch done by one of the killers of the Clutter family, you know, In Cold Blood.”

“I remember something of that. How did you get it?”

“It was part of some things Victor gave me when I left the active ministry. He wanted me to know that he still had faith in me even when I didn’t have faith in myself.” Carlo slid the sketch back inside the envelope and put it on the desk. “Do me a favor and don’t tell Brigid you saw it. She doesn’t know I have it, and with our anniversary coming up I thought it would make a great gift.”

“You’re going to give her a sketch of a murderer as an anniversary gift?”

Carlo smiled. “Macabre, I know. You’d have to understand Brigid.”

Beaufort ached with wanting to ask Carlo what else Santangelo had given him, what else might be right in that envelope, but don’t be too eager, he told himself. It’s all about keeping control so don’t rush it. It’s not like what he was looking for would be out in plain sight for him to pick up.

“Well, thanks for the evening,” Beaufort said. “I’m thinking I’d better be getting home. It’s past Achilles’s time to go out.”

Twenty–one

Sometimes you can’t rid yourself of an obsession, but you can replace it with another. Which is almost as good.

Uber had brought Gemma-Kate up to the house, but I wanted to take her back to her dorm so I could talk to her about the evening, and about the man. I figured, being a psychopath (not that she’s been formally diagnosed, but we all know it) she’d be able to tell if he was somewhere on that spectrum.