1st To Die
Prologue
INSPECTOR
LINDSAY BOXER
IT IS AN UNUSUALLY WARM NIGHT in July, but I'm shivering badly as I
stand on the substantial gray stone terrace outside my apartment.
I'm looking out over glorious San Francisco and I have my service
revolver pressed against the side of my temple.
"Goddamn you, God!" I whisper. Quite a sentiment, but appropriate
and just, I think.
I hear Sweet Martha whimpering. I turn and see she is watching me
through the glass doors that lead to the terrace. She knows that
something is wrong. "It's okay," I call to her through the door.
"I'm okay. Go lie down, girl."
Martha won't leave, though, won't look away. She's a good, loyal
friend who's been nuzzling me good-night every single night for the
past six years.
As I stare into the Border collie's eyes, I think that maybe I
should go inside and call the girls. Claire, Cindy, and Jill would
be here almost before I hung up the phone. They would hold me, hug
me, say all the right things. You're special, Lindsay. Everybody
loves you, Lindsay.
Only I'm pretty sure that I'd be back out here tomorrow night, or
the night afte ... read full excerpt from: 1st to Die ebook
