Silent Thunder (Center Point Platinum Mystery (Large Print)) by IRIS JOHANSEN; ROY JOHANSEN

Author:IRIS JOHANSEN; ROY JOHANSEN
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781602852273
Publisher: Center Point Large Print
Published: 2009-07-21T20:01:50+00:00

NINETEEN

MIDIA, TURKEY

Where the hell was that statue? Eugenia wondered impatiently. It had to be here. She'd gotten vague directions from the head of the artist colony in Athens, but his information had been entered in their directory in 1937, and the statue could have crumbled into dust in that time. No, the torn and faded brochure she'd picked up on the porch of the tourist agency had listed it as the gem of their historical collection.

Some gem, she thought. This tiny park in the middle of town that was supposed to house the tribute to the Argonauts was deserted and overgrown. She doubted if anyone came here anymore, including passing tourists. One look at this tangle of brush, and they would pass on to greener pastures, or maybe that more welcoming coffeehouse down the street.

She shone the beam of her flashlight around the area in front of her. More overgrown brush and low-hanging branches. How could she find the damn—

There it was!

A glimpse of gray stone in the depths of green foliage in the path to the left.

She moved forward eagerly. No, not smart. She cautiously slowed her pace. This park might not be as deserted as it seemed. Danzyl might have made the connection too.

She played the beam around the surrounding area as she went toward the statue.

No sign of anyone.

No movement in the brush.

No sound . . .

Okay, but that didn't mean Danzyl might not be on her heels. Take the picture and get out.

She shined the flashlight on the statue. Jason with his arm raised in triumph, holding the Golden Fleece.

She took the picture and lowered the beam to the base. The same symbol that was on the other statue and another inscription. She took the picture of it and moved closer to get a better shot.

A rustle in the bushes to the left . . .

She dove forward and hit the ground rolling.

A bullet struck the ground next to her.

Jesus, she was a sitting duck.

She rolled behind the statue and got to her knees.

The stone splintered as a bullet struck the statue beside her head.

But she had a fix on where the bullet came from now.

Don't move, you son of bitch, she entreated silently. Just let me get one shot before you come in for the kill.

Another shot. From the same direction.

Yes!

She sprayed the area with a barrage of four bullets.

She waited.

No return fire.

Had she gotten him? Or was it a trick?

She waited.

Okay, go in and see for yourself.

She carefully moved to the other side of the statue and dove into the brush.

She lay there, breathing shallowly, listening.

Nothing.

She scouted around the underbrush toward the bush from where the gunfire had come.

Blood, dark and gleaming in the moonlight as it ran from behind the bush toward the path.

But blood didn't always mean dead.

But this time it did.

Danzyl was lying on his side with a bullet in his temple and another in his throat.

Lucky. Those had been lucky shots.

But how lucky had she been? Had Danzyl been here before she had arrived, or had he come right behind her? One way to tell.

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