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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

“No,” she said, her voice a little harsher now. “We’re just not really … sociable.” Then she either saw the look on my face or realized herself that I was there because Jerry had been, indeed, very sociable. Sociable how, exactly? The jealousy and shame had equal play now. She turned her head to the right and left, looking down the street. Clearly, she didn’t know he had already been at the house for dinner just last night. But she was thinking about it, where he had been, where he said he had been. She wasn’t stupid.

“I was out taking a run,” I said, pretending to wipe perspiration off my brow. I assumed she was looking for my car and not seeing it. Also she might be wondering how the hell I knew this was Jerry’s house. Then I heard the dog bark. “I can tell your dog’s bark. That’s how we met, Jerry and Carlo, I mean. He was out walking your dog.” That was a slip—why would I assume it wasn’t his dog? Of course it was obvious, but why would Gloria think it would be obvious to me that they weren’t coupled enough to share a dog? Oh Lord, I couldn’t say two words without making it all much worse than before I began.

With the license plate I noted as I walked away, I was able to check records and find that it along with the house belonged to Gloria Bentham, decent credit rating, employed as a doctor’s receptionist, unmarried. So Jerry Nolan was a moocher. Not only a moocher, but an abusive one to boot. Possibly not physically, but emotionally. Gloria was one of those women who was willing to put up with anything but loneliness.

When did your average insecurity turn into pathology?

And how could I figure all this out? Here’s how: I occasionally volunteered at Desert Doves, training women to defend themselves. As with villains, I’d seen enough of this kind of woman in my career to be able to profile her within the time of our conversation. The only thing I couldn’t know is whether she would tell him about meeting me, what her attitude would be. Timid? Angry? And what would the meeting tell him about me? That I was looking for information about him? I hoped Gloria would tell him about my visit, because his reaction might flush him out and confirm my suspicions.

Twenty–five