One False Move (Myron Bolitar)
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It’s no secret that Harlan Coben’s name is synonymous with unrelenting suspense. In this compelling fifth novel in his acclaimed Myron Bolitar series, the unforgettable sports agent agrees to protect basketball star Brenda Slaughter while trying to unravel the tragic riddle of her life.
As a big-time New York sports agent, Myron has a professional interest in Brenda. Then a personal one. But between them isn’t just the difference in their backgrounds or the color of their skin. Between them is a chasm of corruption and lies, a vicious young mafioso on the make, and one secret that some people are dying to keep–and others are killing to protect.
They stopped in front of an office door. “Search him.” Bulldozer One started patting him down. Myron closed his eyes. “God,” he said. “This feels good. A little left.” Bulldozer stopped, threw him a glare. “Go in.” Myron opened the door and entered the office. Frank Ache spread his arms and stepped toward him. “Myron!” Whatever fortune Frank Ache had amassed, the man never did spend it on clothes. He favored chintzy velour sweat suits, like something the guys on Lost in Space might
blinked. “And Myron Bolitar is?” “Miss Slaughter’s attorney,” Myron said. One cop looked at the other. “That was fast.” Second cop: “Wonder why she called her attorney already.” “Weird, huh?” “I’d say.” He looked the multicolored Myron up and down. Smirked. “You don’t dress like an attorney, Mr. Bolitar.” “I left my gray vest at home,” Myron said. “What do you guys want?” “We would like to bring Miss Slaughter to the station,” the first cop said. “Is she under arrest?” First Cop looked
she had captained the field hockey team. She chewed on her lower lip. “One thing,” she said. “I don’t know if it’s important or not. But Anita Slaughter had been assaulted before Elizabeth Bradford’s death.” Myron took a step back. “What do you mean, assaulted?” “In the report. Wickner wrote that the witness, Anita Slaughter, still displayed abrasions from the earlier assault.” “What assault? When?” “I don’t know. That’s all it said.” “So how do we find out?” “There might be a police
the Bradfords could go to hell, I wasn’t their personal security service. But it was all bluster. “Anyway, Roy told me to put on a uniform and meet him at the Holiday Inn. I went, of course. We hooked up in the parking lot. I asked Roy what was up. He said that one of the Bradford kids had screwed up again. I said, screwed up how? Roy said he didn’t know the details. It was girl trouble. He had gotten fresh, or they had taken too many drugs. Something like that. Understand now that this was
no big deal. She was just a black woman from Newark. Hell, they all did drugs, right? And she was gorgeous. Probably partying with one of the Bradford boys and it got out of hand. Maybe she OD’d. Maybe Sam was going to take her someplace and get her some help and give her money. Just like he said. So I watched Sam finish cleaning up. I saw him get in the car. And I saw him drive away with Chance Bradford.” “Chance?” Myron repeated. “Chance Bradford was there?” “Yes. Chance was the boy in