Free The Serial Killer's Wife by Blake Crouch, Robert Swartwood

person she could trust.  
    Like a baby, Todd was soothed by the constant motion of the Prius, so when she eventually found her exit, slowed and took the off-ramp, he stirred again, yawned, wiped at his eyes.  
    “Are we there already?”  
    “Not yet.”  
    Todd sat up straighter in his seat, his arms crossed, squinting out the window. “Where are we?”  
    “Indianapolis.”  
    “Why are we stopping here?”  
    “For one, we could use a quick break to stretch our legs, use the bathroom, and get something to eat.”  
    “And two?”  
    “There’s someone here, an old friend, I need to see.”  
    Todd didn’t ask any more questions, just sat silent as she navigated the hybrid through the city streets. It had been over three years since she had been back here, and for some reason she thought she would be lost, the street signs and buildings all looking foreign to her. But she found her way without any problems, leading them downtown.  
    “Um”—Todd shifted nervously in his seat—“are you sure you know where you’re going?”  
    “Yes.”  
    “Good. Because ... well, this doesn’t look like a safe part of town.”  
    “It isn’t.”  
    This part of the city became more broken down, gangbangers hanging out on the street corners, souped-up cars passing them with their rims glowing neon and their basses set to the highest decibel.  
    The closer she got toward where she hoped she was going, the more she realized it wouldn’t be there. Either that or she had lost her way, had brought them down into the middle of the worst part of the city, where almost every street soldier carried a weapon.  
    And then there it was, Riley’s Pub, the three-story building looking the same as it had the day Elizabeth first saw it. The parking lot was half empty, as she had expected it to be, the bar not filling up with its regulars until after midnight.  
    “An Irish bar,” Todd murmured, “in the middle of ... this ?”  
    Elizabeth pulled into the parking lot. “They have a loyal clientele.”  
    “And how, exactly, do you know this?”  
    She found an open spot near the door and parked the Prius. She turned toward Todd, forcing a smile. “I’ll be right back.” Her expression became all at once serious. “Make sure to lock the doors.”

 
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 20

    T HE BOUNCER JUST inside the door was big, almost seven feet tall, and he was heavy, maybe three hundred and the bulk of that muscle. He was bald, too, wearing black pants and a black T-shirt, and to complete the ensemble he wore wraparound shades.  
    “ID?” he said, already holding out his hand.  
    Elizabeth said, “I’m here to see Donovan Riley.”  
    “I’m sorry, ma’am, but Mr. Riley isn’t here tonight.”  
    The ma’am didn’t surprise her, as neither did the mister . Van trained all his employees to be respectful, no matter how deviant they might be. Here now in this bar, hearing the din of voices and laughter and music, she remembered once two bouncers had to break up a fight, the entire time the bouncers calling the guys fighting sir , as if that excused their behavior.  
    “I know that’s not true,” Elizabeth said. “It’s Friday night. He’s always here Friday night.”  
    The bouncer’s hand didn’t move. “If you’d like to enter, ma’am, I’m going to need to see some ID.”  
    “Do I really look like I’m not old enough to be served?”  
    “Ma’am, all I’m asking for is your ID.”  
    She took a breath, gazing past him into the bar. Van had rearranged the place since she was last here, but it was still basically the same set up of tables and chairs, four billiards tables near the back, the stage area beside it.  
    Elizabeth took another breath, counted to ten in her head, and said, “Listen, I know you’re new here. Van always puts new guys on the door. But believe it or not, I used to work here. Right there behind the bar, I used to serve drinks.”  
    “That’s nice,