Kill the Messenger
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With this new thriller, The New York Times bestselling author Tami Hoag delivers her own message to suspense fans everywhere: Don't turn off the lights, and keep reading if you dare. From the gritty streets of Los Angeles to its most protected enclaves of prestige and power to the ruthless glamour of Hollywood, a killer stalks his prey. A killer so merciless no one in his way is safe—not even the innocent.
At the end of a long day battling street traffic, bike messenger Jace Damon has one last drop to make. But en route to delivering a package for one of L.A.'s sleaziest defense attorneys, he's nearly run down by a car, chased through back alleys, and shot at. Only the instincts acquired while growing up on the streets of L.A. allow him to escape with his life—and with the package someone wants badly enough to kill for.
Jace returns to Lenny Lowell's office only to find the cops there, the lawyer dead, and Jace himself considered the prime suspect in the savage murder. Suddenly he's on the run from both the cops and a killer, and the key to saving himself and his ten-year-old brother is the envelope he still has—which holds a message no one wants delivered: the truth.
In a city fueled by money, celebrity, and sensationalism, the murder of a bottom-feeding mouthpiece like Lenny Lowell won't make the headlines. So when detectives from the LAPD's elite robbery/homicide division show up, homicide detective Kev Parker wants to know why. Parker is on the downhill slide of a once-promising career, and he doesn't want to be reminded that he used to be one of the hotshots, working cases that made instant celebrities of everyone involved. Like the case of fading retty-boy actor Rob Cole, accused of the brutal murder of his wife, Tricia Crowne-Cole, daughter of one of the most powerful men in the city, L.A.'s latest "crime of the century."
Robbery/Homicide has no reason to be looking at a dead small-time scumbag lawyer or chasing a bike messenger...unless there's something in it for them. Maybe Lenny Lowell had a connection to something big enough to be killed for. Parker begins a search for answers that will lead him to a killer—or the end of his career. Because if there's one lesson he's learned over the years, it's that in a town built on fantasy and fame, delivering the truth can be deadly.
was long gone by then.” Parker tossed some bills on the table and got up. “Come on, kiddo, let’s blow this shack. You’re riding shotgun.” Tyler Damon’s eyes went huge. “Really?” “You’ve got to be my partner. This isn’t going to work without you.” “I have to call Madame Chen first.” “We’ll call her from the car. She’s not going to ground you or anything, is she?” The boy shook his head. “I just don’t want her to worry.” “We’ll call her.” They went out through the main lobby, where Andi
seemed to have come from another room. She had stretched the sleeves of her black sweater to the point that only the tips of her fingers showed. She used the sweater to dab at the tears that fell at random. Her gaze moved from point to point around the small white room, not lighting on anything for more than a few seconds. Not touching his face at all. “Are you cold?” he asked, already slipping off his jacket. It wouldn’t have mattered if she had said no. He wanted the excuse to touch her. He
the best.” “Then you’ll say yes if I ask you to be my girlfriend?” A blush tinted the apples of her cheeks. “I will say no such thing . . . until you take me for a ride in that car.” Parker put his arms around her and gave her a hug. She protested and chattered at him in Chinese, but when he stood back, she was blushing and trying not to giggle like a schoolgirl. “I’ll take you for a drive up the coast one day,” he promised. “We’ll have lunch and I’ll try to ply you with wine and charm. I’m
“What are you doing here, Parker? I thought they had you writing parking tickets.” “Your vic called me in. Apparently you failed to impress her with your commanding presence.” “Crawl back in your hole, Parker. This is ours. We’ll send you a copy of the reports.” Parker curled his own lip and took a step forward. “You think I want your fucking lousy B&E? File all the paper you want, then go chase some 7-Eleven bandits, go scare up some wannabe starlets moonlighting on their backs. Do whatever
He needed fresh air, and he needed answers. He put his coat on and went outside in search of both. The clock had struck rush hour two hours ago. The streets were nose-to-tail cars, everyone in such a hurry to get somewhere that no one was getting anywhere. A few people came out of Central Bureau and headed for cars—stragglers. The shift had changed a couple of hours ago, and the business day was over. Things would soon be settling down for the night. Parker walked to his car and slipped behind