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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

During her torturously slow taxi ride to Kent Harper’s Madison Avenue address, Mia pulled out Dirk’s print of one of the photographs from the Godwyn frat rave. She stared at the chunky silver bracelet on the man’s wrist as he reached out his hand toward Serena’s glass, well, maybe toward Serena’s glass. Maybe. What could she do with these photos by herself? She could look up college friends she remembered were at the rave, and then what? Why would anyone remember more than she did after seven long years? But maybe, just maybe, someone would remember something they’d seen and wondered about. All she could do was try.

17

Mia

Mia’s taxi tucked in behind a long black stretch limo in front of the Harper Building at 320 Madison Avenue. She paid the driver, still on his cell, and stood on the sidewalk, people flowing around her, staring up at another tower of glass and steel. Unlike the Walcott Building, this structure looked more like a monument to the future, or the late-twentieth-century’s vision of the future. About fifty stories with a steeple on top, it speared into the sky, like the Transamerica Pyramid in San Francisco.

Kent Harper had been a major player in Alex Harrington’s life, his closest friend he’d said. Was Kent still his confidant? Like Harrington, he was also the director of his family’s firm, Harper Strategic Services, in New York and that meant still more money, more connections for Harrington to draw on. But how involved was he now in his best friend’s political campaign? Could Mia catch him off-guard, get him to open up about the Alex Harrington he knew? It was doubtful. Politicians’ close friends, especially those used to protecting power of their own, rarely went off-script. Mia hadn’t called ahead, but she’d bet her sneakers Kent Harper wouldn’t be taken by surprise she was here to see him and had already prepared for her. Fingers crossed he’d see her, she took the express elevator directly to the forty-fifth floor to the Harper Strategic Services executive offices. She stepped onto a large black-and-white marbled floor shined to a high gloss, with art deco sofas and chairs in groupings next to the large windows, their draperies drawn against the dismal weather. Across the expanse an older woman sat behind a dark mahogany desk. Both she and her desk looked uncluttered, sleek and intimidating. Unlike Alex Harrington’s Mrs. Millicent, she didn’t look the type to waste her time baking cookies; she looked like a dragon guarding the gates, the head of the neighborhood watch.