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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

“Yes, I do recall he also said that when I saw him at the grocery store yesterday. Bit of a sycophant, as I said. I told him he probably didn’t want to say that to your face. He asked, ‘What, she doesn’t like being told she’s beautiful? I thought every woman liked that.’ I said, ‘No, she doesn’t like being called my lady.’ And he said, ‘Women these days,’ and shrugged.” Carlo frowned into the dark sky as if his thoughts were somewhere up there, and said, “And that was about it. I think he has a little crush on you. Either that or empty flattery.” Then he turned his head toward me and looked hard and long, fixing me in place with his gaze the way he still did sometimes. It still made me feel like I was being caressed by a spirit. I’ll never know how long it would last because I was always the first one to look away. But I felt loved, even if I wasn’t the first, even if I wasn’t the only

Leaving Carlo with his telescope, I got my forensic kit out of the kitchen drawer, took out the powder and brush, and gave the faucet and flush lever in the guest bathroom a light dusting. Nothing. Now that might just have meant that the guy didn’t wash his hands after going. If that was the case, though, there would have been something, an old print from Carlo or me. But nothing. Someone had very recently wiped down the sink. The lever on the toilet, too. The toilet had been flushed, so there should at least have been the sign of human contact on the lever. The man was being careful not to leave any trace of himself in the house. Sometimes an absence of evidence could be suspicious. Gotta be a con.

I went back to my computer and googled Jerry Nolan, a shot in the dark. Girard “Jerry” Nolan, born 1946, rock drummer. The age was right, but the photo didn’t look like my Nolan. Plus, he was dead. Tried Facebook and found well over a hundred Jerry Nolans. Gemma-Kate was right, some people actually did have the name Nolan without being grifters. Half of them on Facebook provided profile pix if you didn’t count the dogs, motorcycles, superheroes, or that one with the two girls in bikinis. Even so, that left over fifty Jerry Nolans without pix where I couldn’t do a visual match, and who knew how many Jeremys or Jeremiahs?

Plus I wasn’t getting paid for this.

Best to just be careful and see what the guy’s game was.

Twenty–four