Chapter One
WITHOUT ANY WARNING
NOTHING EVER STARTS where we think it does. So of course this doesn't begin with
the vicious and cowardly murder of an FBI agent and good friend named Betsey
Cavalierre. I only thought that it did. My mistake, and a really big and painful
one.
I arrived at Betsey's house in Woodbridge, Virginia, in the middle of the night.
I'd never been there before, but I didn't have any trouble finding it. The FBI
and EMS were already there. There were flashing red and yellow lights
everywhere, seeming to paint the lawn and front porch with bright, dangerous
streaks.
I took a deep breath and walked inside. My sense of balance was off. I was
reeling. I acknowledged a tall blond FBI agent I knew named Sandy Hammonds. I
could see that Sandy had been crying. She was a friend of Betsey's.
On a hallway table I saw Betsey's service revolver. Beside it was a printed
reminder for her next shooting qualifier at the FBI range. The irony stung.
I forced myself to walk down a long hallway that led from the living room to the
back of the house. The house looked to be close to a hundred years old and was
filled with the kind of country clutter that s ... read full excerpt from: Violets Are Blue ebook
