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Back Vortex Save as PDF
Chapters (61)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  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. Epilogue
  57. Epilogue
  58. Acknowledgments
  59. About the Author
  60. Also by Catherine Coulter
  61. About the Publisher

Sherlock’s voice was lower, controlled, but Tommy heard the frustration boiling below the surface. He bet she wanted to punch the guy’s lights out. “Detective Hoolihan, as I’ve told you, Mr. Harper is a person of interest in a rape and murder investigation from seven years ago involving the FBI. As I told you, it wasn’t a formal op, I was doing a favor, all right? Keeping an eye on him, ready to follow him if he ran.”

Out came a snarl, fast and sarcastic. “Didn’t do such a good job, did you, Agent Sherlock? Yeah, I know who you are, but you didn’t shine very bright tonight, did you? I’m thinking you being there was probably what got him shot in the first place. The guy takes two bullets in the back with you sucking your thumb fifty feet away?”

They didn’t hear what Sherlock said because his voice was louder and overrode hers. “And you’re actually telling me Alex Harrington is involved? In rape and murder? Kent Harper’s in the papers now and then, but Harrington is running for mayor of New York City. Lady—smack my disrespectful mouth, I mean Special Agent Sherlock—cool your heels, try not to get anyone else shot. I’ve got to make some calls, get this going up to the big brass, see where they want to steer this boat. Then you’re going to give me every single detail. You and those people you say you’re working with, as soon as they arrive.”

“That’s our cue,” Tommy said, and the three of them walked into the waiting room to see a tall, stick-thin man in a rumpled suit, cruising close to sixty, his head bald as an egg, shining bright beneath the fluorescent light. He was standing maybe a foot in front of Sherlock, in her face, dismissive and impatient, a sneer on his thin lips, trying to intimidate her. Good luck with that. Tommy saw Sherlock was holding on to her patience and realized she was blaming herself for allowing Kent Harper to be shot, and that was why she hadn’t taken the detective apart. She felt guilty.

Tommy said in a deep, authoritative voice, “Detective Hoolihan? We’re the three who can tell you everything you like. I’m Special Agent Thomas Maitland, FBI.” He introduced Mia and Juliet.