Page 136 of Putting Out
The answer was remarkably easy. He had a partner.
* * *
“Where in the heck are we?”
The sun was setting and the air was growing cooler. Reilly had raised her eyebrows when they turned down the dirt road off the main highway, and now they were bumping along to what seemed like the middle of nowhere.
“It’s right up there,” Mark said, pointing to a large brown van parked in the middle of a cleared-out area.
“You wanted me to see a van?”
“It belonged to Neville Walters. His home base. The police and I were able to track it down. I thought it might help bring you closure on all of this.”
Reilly stared at the van. An old Volkswagen model, it looked like it should have had a peace sign painted on it and a sticker that read “If it’s rockin’ don't come a- knockin’.” Intrigued, despite her instinctive revulsion, she got out of the car and waded through the grass toward it.
“That poor man,” she whispered, staring at the state of the old vehicle. “So sick and with only this to live in.”
“It’s not so bad. You’ll see. Let me show you inside.”
Reilly turned and saw Mark standing behind her.
“I don’t think so. You have to know me to know I’m not exactly aclosure-type person.”
Reilly made a motion to turn back to the car when something cracked against her skull. Her body jolted and her legs folded underneath her. As she fell to the ground she thought this was what it felt like to be hit by a golf club.
She wondered why anyone would do that.
