Promised Land

This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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“Whose picture is on a one-hundred dollar bill?” I said.

“Nelson Rockefeller.” [Susan said]

“Wrong.”

“David Rockefeller?”

“Never mind.”

“Laurence Rockefeller?”

“Where would you like to go to lunch?”

“You shouldn't have shown me the money. I was going to settle for Ugi's steak and onion subs. Now I'm thinking about Pier 4.”

“Pier 4 it is...Come on, we'll go back to my place and suit up.”

“When you get a client,” Susan said, “you galvanize into action, don't you?”

“Yes, ma'am. I move immediately to the nearest restaurant.”

Shepard appeared from the door past the stairs. With him was a tall black man with a bald head and high cheekbones. He had on a powder blue leisure suite and a pink silk shirt with a big collar. The shirt was unbuttoned to the waist and the chest and stomach that showed were hard and unadorned as ebony. He took a pair of sunglasses from the breast pocket of the jacket and put them on, he stared at me over their rims until very slowly the lenses covered his eyes and he started at me through them.

* Yeah, I couldn't resist.

Mortal Stakes

* Unless I'm mistaken, that's the last reference to Brenda outside of a short story in the series.

Promised Land

The Judas Goat

Good. Funny. Fast-paced. All things I look for and love in a suspense / mystery novel.