...miliar voice said. “It’s Archer.” Kurt sucked in a breath. Archer wasn't the type to press wrong numbers. “Hello…boss,” he said, then paused for a ... ...ng horses she’d ever seen. And the gray’s flinty-eyed trainer didn’t look the type to give second chances. Chapter Three Dust clogged Ku... ... fair to admit I haven’t been riding here long. And your horse isn't my usual type.” His mouth twitched, and he hid his amusement with a quick cough... ...Kurt, an exhilaration he hadn’t felt since turning in his badge. Otto was the type of suspect he liked working with, the type of man he didn’t mind ... ...her back and chest, and several welts were thick and crusted. A rope? Or some type of hobble? They seemed recent, the scabs a week to ten days old. ... ... out acreages where the water supply was poor and absorbed her comments about soil and rainfall. But his conscience wouldn’t shut up. She believ... ...is shoulders. “Wha’cha looking for?” The man creaked to his feet, peeled off soiled gloves and wiped a liver-spotted forehead. “Olympic Hill,” Ku... ...viously Otto hadn't been around for a while. The stall was filthy, filled with soiled straw that even a starving horse wouldn’t eat. A cracked water ... ...s he helped her back into the truck. He turned the heat up and unbuttoned her soiled shirt. She made a garbled protest—not understanding—but he ease...

... door that was left open. This was all new and intoxicating to the urban sidewalk man from the burbs of L.A. – a man who was far from the adventurous type. Sweating from head to toe, and now beleaguered, Luke stood where little eight-year-old Ruthie Guthrie once played. Her yellow, bouncy hair weaved with small, round curls. At one time she was like a butterfly that was...

...okay. She’s decent. And she’s sort of stunning to look at, if you like the type. She won’t boss me around like some of the broads I know. Images of La... ...o open something called WordPerfect. A bright blue screen appeared and she typed her name. White letters ‘Lacey Brock’ appeared. She pressed the backs... ...ed. What fun! Hey! Maybe I can write a story, or a maga- zine article. She typed, and stared at the screen: Rosalie. Why did I type that? And then her... ...produced modest results, and could be awkward if the author was a reticent type. Jake often walked around the store during signings with a pile of boo... ...e. “I wouldn’t beat yourself up about that,” interrupted the doctor. “This type of cancer is quick and aggressive. I’ve never seen a patient with smal... ....” The unpleasant odor of feces reached her nostrils. Oh no! Poor Jake has soiled his pants. What to do? She drew closer and he shouted, “Get away. Le... ... edges of the interior space disappeared into black- ness. Jana could feel soil under her feet. Their captors shouted something which neither Jana nor...

...ool and bellied up to the bar. He was dressed in a denim shirt, beige workman type pants, and disguised with a quite realistic salt and pepper beard... ...d on all the Sunday morning news shows. We're trying to get a feeling for the type of questions he'll be asked. But they're not cooperating." "Can... ... CHAPTER 27 CHINA, THE JAPANESE EMBASSY In a boardroom type setting, three high level Japanese government officials, Oshiro an... ...rican people why we're sending our young men to die in another war on foreign soil? Not to mention that our allies are the Mafia and Yakuza. This is... ...rd, Mr. President,” Franklin added, “I’m against any country operating on our soil." The president's face squeezed into a sour mask. "Well, we sure...