Sign of the Maker (Boston Crime Thriller Book 4) Brian Shea (black authors fiction txt) 📖

supermax. As he walked to his Caprice, he thought about what Edmund Brown said to him earlier. And then he remembered the way he felt when he saw the package on his mother's porch, his childhood home on Arbroth Street. Not only had he unknowingly been used by Collins to facilitate his plan, but he had also brought the terror to his front door.

After coming home to the suspicious package the previous night, Kelly realized his job put the people he loved most at risk, and he seriously considered hanging up his badge and gun forever. But Brown's story reminded him of why he got into this job. The city of Boston and the citizens he protected on a daily basis meant everything to him.

The streetlight cast its pale-yellow light behind him. His shadow stretched out ahead of him. The city he loved cast many shadows in the truths he'd uncovered both on and off the job. Kelly vowed then and there to never again question his purpose.

The city needed him as much as he needed it.

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Sign of the Maker

Cold Hard Truth

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The story continues in Cold Hard Truth, be sure to check out the following excerpt.

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COLD HARD TRUTH

A BOSTON CRIME THRILLER NOVEL

A suspicious disappearance.

A father's long quest for justice.

Connected by a secret spanning over twenty years.

Kelly sets out to expose the truth as a killer aims to silence him forever.

The son of Boston Police Chief Tom Ryan goes missing on a harbor cruise. As the suspicious circumstances around his disappearance take shape, Detective Michael Kelly soon finds this case has startling implications that hit home, both personally and professionally.

With Barnes on administrative leave, Kelly is partnered with Homicide's newest member, Mark Cahill, a rising star coming off an impressive tour of duty with BPD's Narcotics Unit. The two face incredible odds as they set out to uncover the COLD HARD TRUTH.

The fifth installment in the Boston Crime Series showcases Kelly's indomitable tenacity as he faces off with a dangerous criminal hellbent on ensuring that the truth never sees the light of day.

Click here to purchase COLD HARD TRUTH now

Turn the page to read a sample —>

COLD HARD TRUTH: Chapter 1

Even though the second deck of the ship was relatively temperate compared to the outside cold, most of the people in attendance still had on their coats. Ethan Ryan didn't have to worry about the cold. His cheeks pulsed with the heat of embarrassment. Not one for the limelight, he dodged the camera's eye as much as possible. Tonight would not be one of those times. The spotlight was literally on him.

Sitting at the head table while a room full of Boston's elite pierced him with their stares, warmth spread from Ethan's cheeks to his forehead. The sweat bubbled its way to the surface. He focused his attention on the man holding the microphone as the music quieted. The only sound now was the thrumming heartbeat resonating in his ears.

Alan Wexford gripped the microphone with a hand adorned with several rings. Each probably worth more than Ethan's annual salary. He pivoted on the heels of his alligator Testoni shoes. The shined alligator skin cost nearly thirty-eight thousand dollars. Ethan only knew this because he was wearing a pair himself. Gifted to him by the man with the mic. He felt ridiculous walking around in shoes two times the cost of the Nissan he drove to the Warf tonight. He felt like Cinderella heading to the ball and walked as if he were wearing glass slippers. But somehow he still managed to step in somebody's freshly chewed gum.

The sleek pinstripe suit, costing twice as much as the shoes, was by some famous designer with a hard to pronounce name. He couldn't remember the designer, but he'd never forget the nine 18-carat diamonds inlaid in the gold buttons of the suit. Wexford's daily wardrobe exceeded that of the annual salary of a dual income middle class family. It was why his personal bodyguard, and head of security, Gavin Peters, was always close at hand.

Even now he stood along the far wall scanning the crowd, always vigilant. He looked extra tense this evening. Peters' stare met Ethan's for a brief but awkward moment before resuming its visual sweep. Ethan had relatively few encounters with the man, but in those rare instances, he found him to be short-tempered and rude.

Everything about Wexler was perfect. His look, his smile. He feigned an air of humility as he worked the room. Ethan had spent limited time with the head of the second largest pharmaceutical company in the world. His soon-to-be father-in-law rarely made his way down to the science division. The multi-millionaire had long since broken ties with his researcher background that catapulted him into the financial stratosphere, exchanging his lab coat for designer suits.

Ethan didn't hate the man. He just didn't like him. But if it wasn't for him, Ethan wouldn't have met Cass. To date, she was still the best perk of the job. She was everything he wasn't. Outgoing, funny. But somehow, a chance encounter at the dessert table had brought him to his present circumstance. And if he could go back in time, he'd spill that chocolate souffle on her dress all over again.

Ethan played with the linen napkin under his golden fork. Cass slid her hand across the table. It came to rest atop