Chapter 13Two cases, two murders, neither related, separated by fifteen years, and yet it was their deadly and deathly combination which had Jimmy wide awake at two a.m. He’d attempted to sleep. He had tossed and turned. He’d put a pillow over his head to drown out the light blinking through the window. Outside, a Manhattan late night partied on, noise from Ninth Avenue adding to his misery. Just last night he’d been stuck in the country, so quiet, not even the crickets could speak, and he’d craved the city. Two worlds, two ways of life, neither related, both separated by miles, and yet it was all linked to two cases, two murders, and one private investigator.
He finally gave up and got out of bed, stretching his body, yawning.
He believed he was over-tired. The beer he’d consumed hadn’t
