Page 46 of No Quarter

“Right,” said Will. “The killer would have probably over compensated. So, we’re talking about someone who showed exceptionally good behavior before release, just to make sure they got out. Volunteering, being kind and helpful with staff and patients, etc. Does any of this ring a bell?”

But Valerie already knew the answer. Doctor Whitmore’s face had grown ashen.

“Peter Torben,” he said. “He fits what you’ve said to the letter. He was released three weeks before Agatha was murdered, and he did show a strange switch from erratic behavior to being overly helpful around the retreat.”

“And the animal killings?” Charlie asked.

Doctor Whitmore nodded. “Yes, there was the question of an old Labrador pet that was drowned in a creek out around the back of his house. Peter’s family were certain that he did it, though he never admitted to it.”

Valerie stood up again, a little shaky at first.

“Valerie, you should rest,” Will suggested.

But Valerie was having none of it. “Put me in the CT scan and then we’ll chase down Peter Torben. Give me my gun.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Valerie’s head still throbbed, and whenever Charlie took a sharp corner in the car, she felt like her brain was bashing against the inside of her skull.

But the CT scan had been all clear.

Peter Torben, their suspect, lived in a small village not far from Buford. The hills sped by in the morning sun, shining on golden cornfields and tall bails of straw, piled high for when fall gave way to winter.

“A little more delicate, please, Charlie,” Will said from the back seat, his skin pale as though he was going to throw up his breakfast.

Charlie winked at Valerie in the passenger’s seat and took another corner a little faster than he needed to.

Will groaned. “Very funny. If I vomit, it’s going to be down the back of your neck.”

Charlie slowed down slightly. “Sorry, Will. Youwouldhave three portions of scrambled eggs for breakfast and a bowlful of bacon.”

“Don’t remind me,” he said. “The retreat is beautiful on the outside, but the cook should be committed too.”

“The scrambled eggs weren’t that bad,” Valerie said.

Will shot her a look of disbelief. “They had onions in them.”

“They were chives,” Charlie said.

“No, they were onions,” Will insisted. “I could taste them.”

“You’re just being picky,” Valerie said. But the truth was, she had found the eggs a little heavy on the onions too.

“I’m not being picky, I have a sensitive palate,” Will retorted.

Charlie chuckled and pulled up outside Peter Torben’s house. It was a small, neat bungalow with a well-tended garden. There was no car in the driveway, but that didn’t necessarily meananything. Charlie killed the engine and they all sat for a moment, taking in the scene before them.

“What now?” Charlie asked.

“You go around the back,” Valerie said, “Make sure there’s nowhere for him to run. Will, you’re with me.”

“Delighted.”

Peter Torben’s house looked like something from a fairy tale. All crooked windows and even a tin roof on a shoddily constructed extension.

“Reminds me of Harry Potter,” Will said, as Charlie disappeared around the back.

“As long as there are no Death Eaters, we’ll be fine,” Valerie said. But she did understand the sentiment. The house looked like something out of time. All of them did. A row of eight, sitting on the outskirts of an old cornfield. Each house was of a different design, and each one was as crooked as the next.

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