Chapter One

I'M WATCHING YOU.

    "That's all?" Jim Chopin said.

    Darlene Shelikof handed over a manila file folder, and Jim leafed through half a dozen similar missives, all on eight-and-a-half-by-eleven-inch sheets of plain white paper folded in thirds.

    He held one up to the light and read the watermark out loud. "Esleeck Emco Bond, twenty-five percent cotton content." He lowered his arm. "Available by the ream from Costco at six-seventy-nine a pop, the last time I looked."

    "Can't you tell something from the writing?"

    He shuffled through the sheets again. "Looks like he—or she—used a black Marksalot."

    I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE.

    "The big block printing is an obvious attempt to disguise the hand ... read full excerpt from Singing of the Dead ebook