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By Peter James

It was once intended to be a risk free stag-night prank. a couple of hours later Michael Harrison has disappeared and his neighbors are useless. With in simple terms 3 days to the marriage, Detective Superintendent Roy Grace—a guy haunted through the shadow of his personal lacking wife—is contacted by way of Michael's appealing, distraught fiancée, Ashley Harper. Grace discovers that the single guy who should recognize Michael Harrison's whereabouts is asserting not anything. yet then he has much more to realize than an individual realizes, For one man's catastrophe is one other man's fortune.

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The pilot's voice came over the intercom, all charm, and apologies once more, laying the blame on the fog. Goddamn fog. Goddamn English weather. Mark dreamed of a red Ferrari, a house in Marbella, a life in the sunshine and someone to share it with. One very special lady. If the property deal he had been negotiating up in Leeds came off, he'd be a step nearer both the house and the Ferrari. The lady was another problem. Wearily, he undipped his belt, dug his briefcase out from under his legs and shoved his magazine inside it.

An audible snigger rippled round the courtroom. 1 lf wouldn't call it the dark arts,' Grace said. 'I would call it an itive resource. ' 'So would it be fair to say you are a man of the occult? ' the silk asked. Grace looked at Judge Driscoll, who was staring at him as if it was I himself who was now on trial in this court. Desperately trying to lk of an appropriate response, he shot a glance at the jury, then public gallery, before he faced the silk again. And suddenly it le to him.

Curiosity? Lust? He wasn't sure. For the past eight years he had got through life just by going steadily from day to day. Some days he tried to forget, other days he felt guilty for not remembering. Sandy. Now he was suddenly feeling guilty for going on this date. She looked gorgeous - from her photo, at any rate. He liked her name, too. Claudine. French-sounding, it had something exotic. Her picture was hot! Amber hair, seriously pretty face, tight blouse showing a weapons-grade bust, sitting on the edge of a bed with a miniskirt pulled high enough to show she was wearing lace-topped hold-ups and might not be wearing knickers.

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