A More Perfect Union by J.A. Jance

By J.A. Jance

A surprising picture screamed from front pages of the tabloids—the final moments of a lifestyles captured for all of the international to work out. The glance of sheer terror ceaselessly frozen at the face of the doomed lady indicated that her deadly fall from an higher tale of an unfinished Seattle skyscraper was once no determined suicide—and that glance will eternally hang-out murder Detective J.P. Beaumont. yet his hunt for solutions and justice is resulting in extra demise, and to darkish and negative secrets and techniques scrupulously guarded through males of metal at the back of the locked doorways of a strong union that extracts its dues funds in blood.

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Peters asked. " Wanting to avoid going into detail about my hassle with Kramer, I had neglected to tell Peters the names of the homicide detectives assigned to the case. It was nobody's business but my own, one I didn't care to advertise. "That's him all right," I said. " "He's a first-class son of a bitch," Peters growled. "When I was still in robbery, he almost caused me to quit the force. " Knowing I wasn't the only one bothered by Paul Kramer made me feel less like the Lone Ranger. "He transferred up just in the last couple of weeks.

The doctors said there was no way he'd ever be a detective again, but the department had cleared the way so that whenever he was ready to come back to work, on either a full-or part-time basis, a place would be waiting for him in the Public Information Office. Try as I might, I can't remember to call it Media Relations. Despite his injury, things were starting to look up for Ron Peters. He had fallen hard for Amy Fitzgerald, his physical therapist. Fortunately, the feeling was mutual. The two of them were busy planning a late September wedding that would include Peters' two daughters, Tracie and Heather, as dual flower girls.

I was stepping on toes, but Kramer needed to be taken down a notch. "It's my case, Beaumont, and as far as I'm concerned, this is a crime scene," he insisted stubbornly. " He slammed the trunk lid closed for emphasis. " he asked. " "So am I, Detective Kramer. " He stared at me, his long look critical and appraising before he finally replied. "And my assignment is to find out how this dead bastard in the water got that way. That's just what I'm going to do. Get off my back, Beaumont. " With that, he stalked away.

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