“I never pass up an occasion to see you.”
She signed her name on the title page, which he held open for her. “How many copies does this make that you’ve bought, Jerry?”
He laughed. “I’m buying birthday and Christmas presents.”
She suspected he was also starstruck. “Well, I and my publisher thank you.”
She moved on and, while Jerry fell back into the crush, Van Durbin boldly nudged people out of his way so he could stay even with her. He persisted with the question about a possible movie based on her book.
“Come on, Ms. Price. Give my readers a hint of who you see playing the key characters. Who would you cast as your family members?” He winked and leaned in, asking in a low voice, “Who do you see playing the killer?”
She gave him a sharp look.
He grinned and said to the photographer, “I hope you captured that.”
The rest of the day was no less hectic.
She and Dexter had attended a meeting at the publishing house to discuss the timing of the release of the trade paperback edition of Low Pressure. After a lengthy exchange of opinions, it was decided that the book was selling so well in the hardcover and e-book formats that an alternate edition wouldn’t be practical for at least another six months.
They’d gone from that meeting to a luncheon appointment with a movie producer. After they dined on lobster salad and chilled asparagus in the privacy of his hotel suite, he’d made an earnest pitch about the film he wanted to make, guaranteeing that if they sold him the rights, he would do justice to the book.
As they’d left the meeting, Dexter joked, “Wouldn’t your friend Van Durbin love to know about that meeting?”
“He’s no friend. T. J. David’s true identity was supposed to be a carefully guarded secret. Who did Van Durbin bribe to get my name?”
“A publishing house intern, an assistant to someone in the contracts department. It could have been anybody.”
“Someone in your agency?”
He patted her hand. “We’ll probably never know. What does it matter now who it was?”
She sighed with resignation. “It doesn’t. The damage has been done.”
He laughed. “ ‘Damage’ being a matter of opinion.”
Dexter had dropped her off at her apartment building with a warning: “Tomorrow’s going to be another whirlwind day. Get some rest tonight. I’ll be here at seven a.m. to pick you up.”
She’d waved him off with a promise that she wouldn’t be late, then entered the lobby of her building. The concierge had called to her from behind his desk. “A package for you was delivered just a little while ago.”
It had looked innocent enough when she’d set it on her dining table along with a stack of mail. The box had been sealed with clear packing tape. She’d noted that the label was printed with her name and address, but not the sender’s information. That was curious, but she didn’t think too much of it as she split the tape, folded back the flaps, and lifted out the gift-wrapped box inside.
She never could have prepared herself for the hideous surprise it contained.
Now, sitting on the floor with her back against the wall, she lowered her hands from her eyes and looked at the box with tissue paper blossoming out the top of it. That festive touch was so incongruous with the contents it had to have been planned that way as part of the joke.
Joke? No. This wasn’t funny. It was malicious.
But she couldn’t think of anyone whom she had offended, nor of anyone who would hold her in such contempt. Would Rocky Van Durbin, even having Sleazy as a middle name, do something so low-down and dirty as to send her a dead rat?
Slowly she worked her way up the wall, sliding her spine along it for support as she unsteadily came to her feet. Standing, she was able to see the rat nestled in the shiny paper. She tried desensitizing herself so she could look at it. She tried to objectify the corpse, but because each of its features was so grotesque, they seemed extraordinarily detailed.
She swallowed bile, chafed the goose bumps on her arms, and by force of will pulled herself together. It was only a dead rodent, after all. Rats were a common sight in the subway stations. Seeing one scuttling along the tracks had never caused her to have this kind of violent reaction.
She would replace the lid on the box and carry it to the garbage chute at the end of the hall. Then she’d be rid of it; she could forget about it and go on about her business, having refused to let the prankster get the best of her.
Steeling herself, she took a step forward, and another, and another, until she was almost upon it.
And then the rat’s tail flicked.
Look for These Thrilling Sandra Brown Novels!
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Watch for Sandra Brown’s new novel,
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Contents
Title Page
Welcome Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Epilogue
About the Author
A Preview of Low Pressure
Also by Sandra Brown
You Might Also Like…
Newsletters
Copyright Page
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 1989 by Sandra Brown
Excerpt from Low Pressure copyright © 2012 by Sandra Brown Management, Ltd.
Cover design by SOS Design, cover image of barn by Dave Shafer. Cover copyright © 2013 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at p
ermissions@hbgusa.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
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Originally published in mass market paperback by Warner Books
First e-book edition: February 2013
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ISBN 978-1-4555-4625-1