Choice of Evil
A Burke Novel
Chapter One
It was almost three in the morning when she'd called, so I was outside her
apartment house in fifteen minutes. I didn't like the doorman eyeballing me more
than once, but I didn't see a way around it either. If he thought it was unusual
for someone to be calling at that hour, he didn't show it . . . just rang up and
got the okay for me to enter the elevator.
She must have been right at the peephole—the door opened even as I raised my
knuckles to rap. The rose lighting was back on. Otherwise, the place was
shrouded. "Go sit down," she told me, standing aside.
I gave up trying to solve the mystery of her three chairs and just took the
middle one, letting her play any way she wanted. She looked ghostly, floating
across the room toward me. Barefoot, in a gauzy white robe that wrapped her
body—a frame, not a cover. She took the nearest open chair, reached over, and
pulled mine around so we were facing each other.
"I believe you," she said.
"Which means . . . ?"
"I believe you wouldn't . . . do what you said ... read full excerpt from: Choice of Evil ebook
