By J.A. Jance
A stunning photograph screamed from front pages of the tabloids—the final moments of a lifestyles captured for the entire global to determine. The glance of sheer terror without end frozen at the face of the doomed girl indicated that her deadly fall from an higher tale of an unfinished Seattle skyscraper used to be no determined suicide—and that glance will ceaselessly hang-out murder Detective J.P. Beaumont. yet his hunt for solutions and justice is resulting in extra demise, and to darkish and poor secrets and techniques scrupulously guarded via males of metal in the back of the locked doorways of a robust union that extracts its dues funds in blood.
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Extra resources for A More Perfect Union
Harrison nodded. " Kramer's face turned beet-red. With a little help from his friends, J. P. Beaumont had won that round fair and square. I motioned for Officer Jackson. " Derrick was standing in a tight little threesome with Sam Goldfarb and Cassie Young. Officer Jackson looked where I pointed and nodded. "I see them," she said. "Go tell them to start getting their people lined up. " Merrilee Jackson flashed me a smile. "I'll be more than happy to do that," she said. Jim Harrison finished securing the body to the deck and straightened up.
The angle was wrong. " I demanded finally, holding her at arm's length. " Shaking her head from side to side, she seemed totally incapable of speech, but as soon as I took a step toward the edge of the dock, she came to life and fought me tooth and nail. Her ability to speak returned as well. " she protested, twisting her wrists to escape my grip. "I can't look again. " By then, one of the electricians was standing beside us. I handed Cassie off to him, then went to the edge of the pier to see for myself.
His job was to make sure we didn't do any damage to company property in the course of our Saturday shoot. Woody told me that he had worked as a carpenter for Lake Union Drydock both before and after World War II. He had been there steadily from the time he got home from a Japanese POW camp in the Philippines until he retired in 1980. He was full of countless stories, and his tales had kept my mind off the bone spur for most of the day. Hiding out from a blazing sun, we had retreated into the gloomy shade of the pipe shop.