“Carmen’s working on a series about children and the courts,” Francine said. “Kids falling into poverty are a very big problem.” “I’m aware of the problem, Francine. I’ll skip over the question of what has made Read More …
The day had gone badly for Raymond Ambler, a bitterly cold, gray, January day not long after New Year’s, the wind like a knife, slicing into the cavern cut by 42nd Street between the skyscrapers on either side. The wind Read More …
Lyle Deming braked his Mustang hard and aimed for the sandy shoulder of the desert road. Luckily, his daughter Sam had been looking down and didn’t see the body. He passed a thicket of creosote and manzanita and pulled onto Read More …
A thick mist had crept in from the river. It skirled around the man’s legs as he picked his way through the foul-smelling mud, drifting up to cloud the twisting turns of the narrow alleyways. He paused for a moment Read More …
The deputies were excited but quiet about it, out of respect for Peach. Unexplained death was uncommon, even with the aging residents that made up much of the population of the town. Violent death was even rarer in the scattered Read More …
Layla faced the mirror and took a deep breath. When she went out there, she had to be effortlessly confident. She certainly looked the part, in a rose-colored Givenchy dress that complemented her olive skin and tasteful diamond earrings. She’d Read More …
On the ground between the far side of the bed and the windows, Maurice lay, face down on the tan carpet as though he’d collapsed forward, unable to brace for his fall. His killer must have struck him as he Read More …
My name is Miller Brinkman and I am—or rather, I was—a private investigator. That message was recovered in March of 1948, from a former top-secret area known as Location 2208-C. Two years have since passed, but part of me is forever Read More …
I peeked over the stairs and saw my sister Jenna’s reflection in the glass. I considered ignoring it and sneaking back into my office until my cell phone started vibrating in my pocket. My family and the Borg from Star Read More …
The man on the park bench stared at the empty space above the knuckle of Nora Pennington’s pinkie finger. Strangers were always hypnotized by this gap. They would gaze at the puckered skin stretched over the nub of finger bone Read More …