Perfect Grave (Jason Wade, Book 3)
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A MURDERED NUN
The face Sister Anne sees behind her in the mirror belongs to a man she knew years ago; the cold blade against her throat guarantees her silence.
THE STORY OF HIS CAREER
The shocking murder of this local 'saint' draws the attention of reporter Jason Wade. He is sure the police are hunting the wrong man – and that it is up to him to track down the real killer.
SECRETS FROM THE PAST
His father's demons tell Jason more about this murder than the police investigation ever could – revealing a story so twisted Jason will need all his wits to untangle the truth.
you think you’re taking a huge risk with your safety?” “We never believed we had enemies.” “Until tonight,” he said. “Get that front lock fixed and the others changed. Grace, we’d need to get some uniforms posted here and have Central patrol this area.” “Okay, Dom.” Sensing Perelli’s growing anger over the nun’s death, Grace steered matters back to the investigation. “Sister, can you think of anyone at all who might have wanted to hurt Sister Anne?” “No.” “Someone from the shelter? An
Henry looked at the headline and Sister Anne Braxton’s picture. Jason ordered more coffee. Chapter Ninteen “No—I’ve—No! You’ve already connected me to that department—” Rhonda Boland failed to get the receptionist at the insurance company to understand Brady’s situation. “Would you just listen to me? Please. He’s just been diagnosed. Please, don’t put me on hold again, just listen, please—” The line clicked. Elevator music flowed into her ear. “Rhinestone Cowboy.” Rhonda squeezed the
ready for the attackers. Seattle’s traffic above him was roaring like the firefight. It would be different this time—this time Coop would kill them all. Button up. Save his crew. Then they would stop screaming. Out front, Jason drew back the blanket. It was like the crack at the entrance of a spider’s hole. The smell was powerful. His light reached partway down a narrow corridor lined with blankets, plastic sheeting, a shopping cart, wooden crates. He followed one electrical cord from a
think about it,” Henry stood. “Before I go, can I get a copy of the files and his picture?” Chapter Thirty-Nine Bruno Stone’s eyes took a slow walk over Rhonda Boland. She was in her best outfit, a form-fitting JCPenney number, nervously sitting beside him on a stool in the Twisted Palms Bar at the Pacific Eden Rose Hotel. Bruno ran the Twisted Palms. He had dyed, gel-slicked hair. His tattooed forearm propped his head and he tapped his teeth with his pinky ring as he went back to
to her side, pulled the tape from her mouth. “Please, he’s got my son!” Her face was bruised. He checked for more signs of injury. “Who?” Germain glanced around. “Ma’am, are you hurt anywhere else?” He pulled out his keys, extracted the blade of his pocketknife, and sliced at the tape, freeing her and helping her sit more comfortably. “Ma’am, I don’t know what happened but I think I should call an ambulance.” “No!” “Ma’am, I think you need help.” “My son! He took my son! Don’t call the