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In this, the fourth installment in the Sam Acquillo series, Sam’s past reaches out to pull him back into the world of big money and even bigger egos, where the term “corporate intrigue” is redundant and ambition the only virtue. It seems a woman vital to the private life of a very important person has gone missing in the Hamptons. And it looks like the best way to get her back is to extort the cooperation of Sam Acquillo. After finally achieving some measure of peace and contentment on Long Island, Sam is yet again an accidental player in other people’s dramas. It takes him into the world of private security goons, predatory financiers and lifestyles of young hedonists, some brave, some beautiful, all a bit lost. This time Sam has a few ambitions of his own that lead him into something all his battles in the ring and corporate boardrooms could never have prepared him for.
From the Hardcover edition.
and the brainless blather of talk radio. But I wasn’t listening, as recollection dislodged my mind and sent it off to some other place. A place of cowed silence, acreages of office space enclosing a vast checkerboard of work stations and cubicles, where the only mechanical sound was the low hum of copiers and fluorescent lights and desk phones trilling like captive birds. Glass-walled individual offices lined the periphery of the building where I’d worked. Aquariums with the aerators turned
I thought of Eddie back at the cottage, eyes fixed on the sky as he ran random circles hoping to magically coax one of the foolish birds to swoop closer to earth, to come within the arc of an energetic leap. “Nice day,” said Sullivan, striding toward me. “What’s up?” “I’ve got something for you,” I said. “And now that I think of it, it’s better to give it to you out here.” He glowered his wary cop glower. “What are you talking about?” I put my hands on my head. “Right hand jacket pocket,” I
administrative job.” “Where?” He sighed and fished out his case book again, with a look that said this was the last time. “Eisler, Johnson Consulting, Inc.,” he said. “He’s a help desk administrator, though not much help to me so far.” Chapter 13 It had been a while now since I first awoke on the screened-in porch of my parents’ cottage, fresh out of rehab and expectations. I’m a little surprised I survived that first year, so indifferent was I to the basic essentials of life. It’s a
falling down and giggling and all that shit that looks so lame and stupid to people who aren’t so lucky as to be drunk. Bobby was already in bed, but Zelda was there, pissed off as all hell. Freak job that she is. I’m sorry, that was mean. You can’t blame the girl. Nobody likes getting rousted by a pair of drunks. She really let Elaine have it. Called her a total tramp. I really got to go.” She abruptly stood up from her seat, smoothing the fabric of her dress back down the tops of her thighs.
the usual distractions from the Hodges family and the general flow of the evening. Dorothy in particular made her presence felt, hanging around the table and salting the conversation with an occasional non-sequitur. After a while, Sullivan and Ackerman were chatting up a storm, like a couple of regular barflies ensnared by their own random nonsense. As a signal that things had truly degraded, Paul Hodges brought out a tray full of shots with a bowl of lemon slices. After a lot of yelling and