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About This Book
Private Detective investigates the disappearance of a Tycoon. Wife is accused of murder.
My office and apartment are located on the second floor above a bar called Legs, and I was reviewing my life with the help of three fingers of single malt when she walked in. She was a knockout, from her black hat, coffered hair and supple lips, to her long silky legs. Everything about her shouted "money." Her hat cost more than a month's pay.
"Are you the private eye?" she said.
Her voice matched her looks, soft, cultured and silky.
My office and apartment are located on the second floor above a bar called Legs, and I was reviewing my life with the help of three fingers of single malt when she walked in. She was a knockout, from her black hat, coffered hair and supple lips, to her long silky legs. Everything about her shouted "money." Her hat cost more than a month's pay.
"Are you the private eye?" she said.
Her voice matched her looks, soft, cultured and silky.
