Heartstone
Phillip Margolin
Language: English
Pages: 434
ISBN: 0061983888
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
They were young, popular, the perfect couple—an all-American boy and a beautiful cheerleader. But the youthful passion that led them to Lookout Park thatterrible evening would prove fatal. For Richie Walters the end came swiftly, as death descended upon him in a savage orgy of horrific violence. Elaine Murray would live long enough to learn just how lucky her boyfriend had been . . .
Two brutal slayings have rocked a stunned city. But the murders are merely the nightmare's beginning, flinging open a terrifying Pandora's box of sordid secrets and dark revelations more deadly than the bloodlust that lives in the rock-hard heart of a killer.
hoarsely. “Did your nightmares start soon after you met Detective Shindler?” “I don’t know what you mean.” “I think you do, Esther. Detective Shindler is the same detective who made you see Dr. Hollander, isn’t he?” “He didn’t force me. I went because I wanted to.” “To what, Esther?” “To see if what he said was real.” “What did he say?” “That I saw the murder. He knew it even back then.” “Back when?” “When they were murdered. He told me.” “Told you and showed the scene.” “Yes.” “Took
fast as he could after the disappearing figure. He heard a grunt and a high-pitched, female scream. Two bodies crashed to the ground. In an instant he was pushing his brother off the fallen girl, straddling her, slapping her face from side to side, screaming “bitch” in a voice filled with animal lust and hate. “Stop it. You’ll kill her.” Bobby was grabbing his arms. His chest was heaving. The girl was moaning. Blood was trickling from her nose. Billy took a deep breath. He glared at the girl.
as the sun rose, several men tied ropes around their waists and swam the river to anchor a cable that would guide the wagons across to the far shore. The wagon master, who had taken many travelers along the Oregon Trail and knew a thing or two about fording rivers, guaranteed everyone in the party that the crossing would be perfectly safe. By the time Matthew Penny was ready, Rachel Penny was not so sure. She’d seen the river hurl huge logs about as if they were matchsticks, and none of the
bones were visible as jutting elbows, conspicuous shoulder blades, high cheekbones, and a pointed chin. If Farber had been an implement, he would have been a knife, and his temper was as sharp and fierce as a fighting blade. Farber had paid little attention to the rumors that the railroad was headed for Phoenix until Benjamin Gillette, a wealthy businessman, offered to buy some of his land. Farber jumped at the chance to make some easy money. If the deal had gone through, it would have been the
hands and Caproni left. Bobby Coolidge was standing on the second-floor balcony of a manor house of a great estate. The manor house was constructed of an odd combination of Ionic columns, stark concrete blocks and unpainted wooden planks. The house was incomplete and furnished rooms, carpeted with Persian rugs and lighted by Tiffany lamps, opened into bare rooms whose western walls did not exist and whose ceiling was the sky. Bobby gazed across a rolling lawn, lush, green and smelling of