Brotherhood in DeathBook - 2016
Sometimes brotherhood can be another word for conspiracy. . . .
Dennis Mira just had two unpleasant surprises. First he learned that his cousin Edward was secretly meeting with a real estate agent about their late grandfather's magnificent West Village brownstone, despite the promise they both made to keep it in the family. Then, when he went to the house to confront Edward about it, he got a blunt object to the back of the head.
Luckily Dennis is married to Charlotte Mira, the NYPSD's top profiler and a good friend of Lieutenant Eve Dallas. When the two arrive on the scene, he explains that the last thing he saw was Edward in a chair, bruised and bloody. When he came to, his cousin was gone. With the mess cleaned up and the security disks removed, there's nothing left behind but a few traces for forensics to analyze.
As a former lawyer, judge, and senator, Edward Mira mingled with the elite and crossed paths with criminals, making enemies on a regular basis. Like so many politicians, he also made some very close friends behind closed--and locked--doors. But a badge and a billionaire husband can get you into places others can't go, and Eve intends to shine some light on the dirty deals and dark motives behind the disappearance of a powerful man, the family discord over a multimillion-dollar piece of real estate . . . and a new case that no one saw coming.
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She sent him a speculative look. “Do you really want to get rid of this desk?” “That will be up to you.” She shook her head, waved that off. “No, I’m asking you. Do you want to get rid of it?”They sprawled over the desk like barely conscious survivors of a cataclysm, and she gave a passing thought to the desk. How bad could it be if it
“I guess. Maybe we should put that desk in some sort of display. With a plaque.”
She could let go, she realized, of the old. Of an old desk, an old chair—old pieces of an old life. She had a new one. Reaching for his hand, she held it firmly in hers. She had a real one, built by both of them. “We’re going to get rid of that desk.”
The Droids of 2060:
“They keep the droids in here. House droid, and its backup,” Sila said as she gestured. “The vac droid, the scrubber droid, and so on. But this one’s the, well, head droid, you’d say.”
" ...Then I made you watch while I fashioned people suits out of your skins for a couple of sparring droids I would then beat into rubble that I’d bury along with your quivering, skinless bodies in unmarked graves. ..."
“There’s also what appears to be a sex droid in the closet of the master bedroom.”
Still Driving behind the wheel?
“Do you always drive this way?” “What way?” “As if we’re trying to outrun an earthquake.”
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