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Back Fleeced Save as PDF
Chapters (84)
  1. Acknowledgments
  2. FLEECED
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. 63
  66. 64
  67. 65
  68. 66
  69. 67
  70. 68
  71. 69
  72. 70
  73. 71
  74. 72
  75. 73
  76. 74
  77. 75
  78. 76
  79. 77
  80. 78
  81. 79
  82. 80
  83. 81
  84. About the Author

Within minutes the police and Nat’s private doctor arrived on the scene. Back upstairs, Thomas watched in horror as the doctor pronounced Nat dead.

“He slipped in the tub,” Dr. Barnes said. “It looks like blunt trauma to the head. He’s been having some dizzy spells lately …”

Just then, one of the patrolmen walked into the bedroom. “There’s a lot of jewelry out on the desk in the living room. The safe is empty.”

Thomas looked up. “He told me he and his friend Ben were about to sell the four big diamonds in the red box and donate the proceeds to the club.”

“I didn’t see any red box.”

“But they just showed it to me this afternoon!”

“Believe me, there’s no red box. A lot of dark blue boxes. But no red box.”

Thomas promptly fainted.

3

Regan Reilly opened the door of her parents’ apartment and picked up the three daily newspapers that had been plopped on the floor at some ungodly hour while most of New York City was unconscious. Backing into the apartment, Regan shut the door and made her way into the narrow kitchen. She opened the cabinet over the sink and pulled out a mug as the coffeemaker hissed and groaned, spitting the last couple of freshly brewed drops into the glass pot. Music to my ears, Regan thought. It means that caffeine is just seconds from my bloodstream.

Regan settled herself at the dining room table and took that first, best sip of coffee. Her eyes took in the unbelievable view of Central Park that her mother always said made the apartment. It certainly does, Regan thought. Her parents’ pied-à-terre was a comfortable two-bedroom place to hang your hat, but it was the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the park from the sixteenth floor that made it to die for. And even on this cold and gray March morning, the view of the park was mesmerizing.

Coffee, the papers, and Central Park. A great way to start the day. And before the day is over, I’ll get to see Jack, she thought. She was suddenly reminded of a discussion held in one of her college English classes. Expectation and anticipation are one half the joy of life. Regan smiled. True most of the time. But being with Jack was a whole lot better than looking forward to it. I’ve had enough of looking forward! she thought. It’s time to live.

Regan opened one of the tabloids, a paper she always enjoyed reading when she was in New York City. The first few pages included the usual stories about conflicts of varying degrees of seriousness taking place in the Big Apple. Crack-downs on motorists who cause gridlock and jaywalkers who dart in and out of the gridlock, a bank robbery in midtown, noise from a construction site that had the neighbors going crazy.