Chapter One
"He's not going to show."
Russ Evans didn't even spare fellow detective
Jerry Anders a glance, eyes trained on the coffee
shop and the woman inside sitting alone. "Ten
more minutes."
Jerry didn't protest, but Russ felt him shift in agitation,
the heels of his shoes crunching in the hard-packed
snow. Russ knew Jerry was cold, because he
was, too. Hell, cold was an understatement. His nuts
were completely numb. January winds were creeping
in under his nylon jacket, and his fingers were
stiff wrapped around the binoculars he was using
to watch the door of the coffee shop.
But discomfort was part of the job, and he wasn't
going to be hanging his badge up anytime soon. In
fact, he loved being in Special Operations, got a kick
from the watching and the waiting and the thinking-cold
nuts or not-because in the end there
was nothing like slapping the cuffs on slimeballs.
"He's stan ...
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