By Susan Isaacs
Quickly after her prosperous husband of twenty-five years leaves her for a more youthful girl, Rosie Meyers unearths herself the leading suspect in his homicide and is going underground as a fugitive in long island to discover the killer. 150,000 first printing. $200,000 ad/promo.
Read Online or Download After All These Years PDF
Best books books
Dio Cassius (Cassius Dio), ca. one hundred fifty– 235 CE, used to be born at Nicaea in Bithynia in Asia Minor. at the loss of life of his father (Roman governor of Cilicia) he went in one hundred eighty to Rome, entered the Senate, and less than the emperor Commodus was once an recommend. He held excessive workplaces, changing into an in depth pal of numerous emperors.
Extra resources for After All These Years
Since I wasn’t asked—and I knew it was routine police procedure—I gave him my name, my age, and my occupation. He thanked me and jotted them down. ” Gevinski asked. I told him I could. ” He walked out. I drummed my fingers, but the old polished wood muffled the sound. I paced the room. The Persian rugs muted my tread. Every room in Gulls’ Haven was designed to refine whatever was in it. But that had been Richie’s point. I remember how he had brightened when the decorator told him, in her nasal, upper-crust voice, that one of the upholstery fabrics—bolts and bolts of cabbage-rose chintz—might take “a tad longer than usual”; it was being custom-dyed in vats of tea so it would look yellowed, slightly shabby.
Sorry. A. ” He glanced at his watch. “Did Mr. ” He didn’t seem to expect any revelations; his notepad was back in his pocket. ” “We didn’t talk much anymore. ” Gevinski’s eyebrows began as two minuscule tufts of hair on either side of the bridge of his nose and ended as long lines that shot upward; they looked like blond check marks. He lifted them a fraction of an inch. ” Gevinski, I decided, was not fascinated by the subtleties of human relations. With Richie lying en brochette just across the hall, and with my having touched the knife, I realized I ought to amend my answer.
It wasn’t that Richie hadn’t been likable. Great guy, people always said. Charming. No enemies. But no friends either. Even in our first years in Shorehaven, in the Cape Cod, where the nearby houses were so close you could look into your neighbors’ kitchen window and see what brand of frozen waffles they were serving for breakfast, where familiarity bred a gung-ho, all-American, we-have-no-secrets friendliness, where neighbors routinely dropped in to borrow tarragon mustard or a snow blower, Richie wasn’t one of the guys.
After All These Years by Susan Isaacs