Chapter One
If it had not been horribly obvious that Chester
Brady was already dead, Lydia Smith might have
strangled him herself.
Her first assumption when she rounded the corner into
the shadowy Dead City Tomb wing of Shrimpton's House
of Ancient was that Chester was pulling another
scan. It had to be some bizarre con tactic designed to steal
her new client prospect right out from under her nose before
she could get his name on a contract.
It was so typical of the little sneak. And after all she'd
done for him.
She came to a half and stared at the leg and arm hanging
limply over the side of the ancient sarcophagus. Maybe it
was just a weird gag this time. After all, Chester's sense of
humor did lean toward childish pranks.
But there was something a little too realistic about the
way he was slumped in the not-quite-human-shaped coffin.
"Maybe he just fainted or something," she said, without
much hope.
"Don't think so." Emmett London glided around her
and walked forward to gaze down into the green quartz
burial box: "He's very dead. You'd better call the authorities."
&nb ... read full excerpt from: After Dark ebook
