Private: #1 Suspect
Since former Marine Jack Morgan started Private, it has become the world's most effective investigation firm--sought out by the famous and the powerful to discreetly handle their most intimate problems. Private's investigators are the smartest, the fastest, and the most technologically advanced in the world--and they always uncover the truth.
When his former lover is found murdered in Jack Morgan's bed, he is instantly the number one suspect. While Jack is under police investigation, the mob strong-arms him into recovering $30 million in stolen pharmaceuticals for them. And the beautiful manager of a luxury hotel chain persuades him to quietly investigate a string of murders at her properties.
The #1 suspect is Jack Morgan
While Jack is fighting for his life, one of his most trusted colleagues threatens to leave Private, and Jack realizes he is confronting the cleverest and most powerful enemies ever. With more action, more intrigue, and more twists than ever before, PRIVATE: #1 SUSPECT is James Patterson at his unstoppable best.
use to tar Danny’s character. “It’s critical to Danny’s case that he, and really all of you, keep the party down until after his trial. That means no drugs, no drinking, and especially no girls.” “Sure, and no eating with your mouth open, no bare feet when entering this establishment,” Kovaks said. Rose, the fight coach, said, “Dr. Smith, no offense, but we don’t need a PI dogging us. Come on,” he said to Larry Schuster. “You can’t be serious.” Scotty watched Justine, fingers interlaced in
hair, forced the blubbering kid to look him in the eye. “What happened, Danny? What did you do to her?” “I can’t…carry her out of there,” Danny wailed. “I want to die.” Del Rio said, “What did you do, you piece of shit?” The kid kept crying. Del Rio stood up and walked back to the lip of the canyon. The canyon wall was at a treacherous forty-five degree angle to the floor. Del Rio looked for footholds, saw jutting boulders, some ledges running parallel to the ground, flat places where he
through the shoes. She was looking for a rubberlike sole that could match the three inches of usable shoe print Sci had found next to the tire tread. Justine paused, trying to sort the shoes in her mind before diving in, and then she saw what she was looking for, a pair of ASICS GEL-Kayanos, the current trend in men’s conspicuous casual footwear. She plucked the left shoe off the heap and turned it over. She called to Rick, and when he came to the closet, she showed him the bottom of the shoe.
You did what you did, but you didn’t kill her.” Justine told me how much she’d liked Colleen, that she understood my feelings for her. “I thought that you two had broken up for good. And then you hadn’t. Not really or not yet. That hurt me, Jack. I think it would have hurt anyone, but I’m over it now.” I thanked her, and when the silence dragged on for too long, I told Justine about Clay Harris, how Tommy had shot him and that Tommy was currently in jail. “Knowing Tommy, they won’t be able to
in his over-the-top, Spanish-style manse complete with racehorses and a man-made recirculating river located about five miles from the Vegas Strip. I’d brought a cashier’s check for the full amount of my brother’s debt, and Noccia and I had exchanged favors. We realized that day that we’d both been in the Corps. As marines liked to say about themselves, “Never a better friend. Never a worse enemy.” Carmine Noccia and I had shaken hands on that. Now Noccia poured coffee for himself, used the