BooksBarbecue
Back A Text Before Dying Save as PDF
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Love best-selling fiction?
  3. Also by McGarvey Black
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. Acknowledgements
  60. A note from the publisher
  61. Love best-selling fiction?
  62. You will also enjoy:

12

Sitting on her living-room couch that Monday night waiting for her husband’s call from Quantico, Zoe replayed happy-mind videos of their Key West honeymoon. When the theme music from Law and Order blasted out of her phone, she lunged for it. The popular TV show’s music was her special ringtone for Conner.

“Hey, babe, I miss you,” she cooed. “How’s everything going in Quantico? Learn anything cool?”

“It’s been hot as hell here. Doesn’t get much stickier than DC in the summer,” said Conner. “Thank God we’re inside most of the time. It’s brutal enough here in June. I don’t know how people live here in August. Stupid place to put our capital.”

A year earlier, Conner had put in for a promotion and transfer that moved him from the organized crime division into the white-collar crime unit. His previous job arresting members of organized crime families could get an agent killed and he had had enough. White-collar crime didn’t typically involve guns or murder and was considered to be a less hazardous job at the bureau. Though he never told his wife anything about his current assignment, she knew it was a long-term undercover operation. The FBI had even set him up with a fake apartment on Park Avenue to maintain his cover as a successful banker.

“So, how’s your in-service training going?” asked an always curious Zoe. Dying to tell him about the masked woman and the texts she had seen but convinced he’d jump to the wrong conclusions, she remained quiet.

“Dull stuff,” said Conner. “Just a bunch of new protocols and intelligence that wouldn’t mean anything to you. New tricks the fat cats use to hide money and new technologies for scamming. That kind of stuff.”

“Sounds pretty interesting to me,” said Zoe. “Now that you mentioned hiding money, I think one of the office staff at Villa d’Luna might be cooking the books. I’ve seen her taking certain ledgers home. When she leaves, she gets picked up by this old bald guy with a pencil-thin mustache who drives a small black truck with Pennsylvania plates and—”

“Zoe, where are you going with this? You’re manufacturing drama where there isn’t any,” said Conner. “It never leads to a good place.”

Her husband’s visceral reaction to what she had thought had been an innocuous comment, convinced her not to mention the masked woman in the park or the murder plot. “Don’t bite my head off. It’s just that this bookkeeper has a weird forehead and eats her sandwiches cut into exactly nine pieces. Who does that? When I noticed she took the ledger books home I thought—”