By James Patterson, Maxine Paetro

A reporter launches a chain of vicious articles in regards to the instances and Lindsay's own lifestyles is laid naked. yet this time she has not anyone to show to--especially no longer Joe. eleventh HOUR is the main stunning, so much emotional, and so much exciting Women's homicide membership novel ever.

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Additional info for 11th Hour (Women's Murder Club, Book 11)

Sample text

I've got plenty, and anything I have is yours. You—" "'Anything I have is yours,' "Roy, eyes narrowed appreciably. " "You can go to one of the really good schools, Roy. Harvard or Yale, or some place like that. Your grades are certainly good enough, and with my money—our money . " "Now, Lilly. You know you need the money for yourself. " She flinched, as though he had struck her, and her face worked sickishly, and the trim size-nine suit seemed suddenly to hang on her: a cruel moral to a life that had gotten her everything and given her nothing.

She laughed shakily, and called him silly; avoiding his eyes, refusing to be rejected as she must have known she would be. "Of course, you have money! I've got plenty, and anything I have is yours. You—" "'Anything I have is yours,' "Roy, eyes narrowed appreciably. " "You can go to one of the really good schools, Roy. Harvard or Yale, or some place like that. Your grades are certainly good enough, and with my money—our money . " "Now, Lilly. You know you need the money for yourself. " She flinched, as though he had struck her, and her face worked sickishly, and the trim size-nine suit seemed suddenly to hang on her: a cruel moral to a life that had gotten her everything and given her nothing.

Is—is this all we have, Roy? Is it all we're going to have? " "How could we top a thing like that? " She looked at him silently, the burning eyes turning lackluster, staring at him from behind an invisible veil. Without turning her head, she extended a hand and slowly tamped out her cigarette. "That was a funny," he said. " "Oh, I am laughing, dear," she said. " She reached down, picked up a stocking and began to draw it on. A little troubled, he pulled her around to face him. "What are you driving at, Moira?

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