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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

We had a bit of a better cuddle later when he walked me out to the car.

“It’s getting on to dusk,” he said. “You should start down.”

I gave him a final hug and said, “You stay warm, and I’ll be back to get you after breakfast. Breakfast is part of the package, right?”

He smiled and nodded.

I thought about how married couples are, how they look after each other in small ways. But I didn’t get all mushy. “Have a wonderful time, and happy anniversary,” I said.

“Same to you, and don’t let that Jerry come prowling around,” Carlo said with a wink. While I had neglected to mention lifting the print, I had remembered to tell Carlo that I was certain Jerry was living with a girlfriend and that men always mentioned their mate to show they weren’t on the prowl. After some consideration, Carlo had said that was likely a hasty generalization.

There were a few other cars in the parking lot, but they were either staying there the whole night, or else would be driving down the mountain after a ten P.M. viewing. Once on the road the descent started almost immediately, at about a six percent grade. Even being able to see well enough, I decided I’d take it slow, figuring I’d put the Miata through her paces on another day, and this time live to pick up Carlo in the morning.

Because of that six percent grade I tapped my brakes a couple of times to make sure they were working, and when the road got steeper I down-shifted into third and then second gear to make the engine do some of the work. There was no moon; we had planned it that way to optimize the viewing. It was the last smidgen of day, the sun having set but leaving a reluctant red-orange stripe just above the horizon line. With my headlamps off, a Kitt Peak rule to avoid light pollution, I could still make out the boulders going slowly by on my right inches from my passenger door, and was glad the drop-off into the valley was on the other side of the road. Even with my lights on I might not have seen the patch of black ice. It hadn’t been there on the ride up, or else was only forming on the opposite side of the road.