By Carol O'Connell
2010 Retail ePub
NYPD sergeant Kathleen Mallory - laptop genius, road fighter, provocative waif, peerless investigator, manipulative attractiveness - is the attractive, near-sociopathic heroine of this knife-edged suspense novel. in addition to outdated associates, Ricker, Coffey, and devoted admirer Charles Butler, Mallory is set to unravel the brutal "art as death" homicide of an untalented yet hugely touted artist-critic. Mallory believes the case is the paintings of a similar killer who, 12 years prior, hacked a tender artist and a skilled ballerina to items. Baffling and complex, Mallory wades via artwork critics, bag girls, madmen and mafioso alike in attending to the ground of those crimes. secrets and techniques, very deep and intensely darkish, emerge and strike nearer and towards domestic. through the top, she is going to come to understand the reality - however the fact could be the most threatening phantasm of all.
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Extra resources for Killing Critics (Kathleen Mallory, Book 3)
Danny slumped behind the wheel and stared at the columns of Sweet Gum. The afternoon was gloriously sunny, though a chilly breeze had kicked up and was keening low as it wrapped around his patrol car. It was the sound of mourners; it made Danny involuntarily shiver. T. and Uncle Douglas and Roy Dale. They were still missing. Missing blood. Where on God’s holy creation were they? Something had turned wrong. Gone shadowy. He couldn’t figure it out, but he refused to accept Bo Smith’s vampire theory and he was beginning to have serious doubts about the sanity of his brother Jacob.
It settled back and closed its eyes, but not before staring at Jacob helplessly, reaching out and seeming astonished that one brother had not come to the aid of the other. More than anything else, Jacob felt a need to rush forward and pull out the stake and give whatever aid and comfort he could to his brother. ” Bo shouted. ” “My God, we killed my brother, Bo. ” They were staring at each other as the thing grew still. Bo was shaking his head. “No. Wait. ” As seconds passed and the air ticked off the moments of tension like an old-fashioned clock and Jacob kept the flashlight beam on the face of the thing, he began to feel the Tracker Bible generate heat.
Kinked his fuckin’ brain is what it did. ” Jacob took a deep breath and glanced around. ” Roy Dale shook his head. “Why’s ever’body wanna know that? Your brother, the cop, was out here while ago askin’ for him, and I told him, shit, I don’t know where he is. T. did to Josh, and I said I didn’t know and he kept after it, and so I got pissed at all the questions and told him to fuck off, and then he started to rough me up, you know. The bastard. I told him Josh was just a weird, sissy-ass kid with fucked-up brains.