After crippling his assailant with two well-put shots, one to each knee, Special Agent AXL Pendergast silently darted from the warehouse where he had been working undercover. Rounding the outside corner, he was immediately blinded by FBI arc lights set up to help bust the drug ring that Pendergast had infiltrated. Dodging government cars, an ambulance, and a large group of agents beginning to enter the warehouse on the double, Pendergast stumbled blindly into the Agent in Charge, his old friend, Michael Decker. “Pendergast!” Decker exclaimed when he took a good look at his reclusive friend in the glare from the surrounding lights, “You’ve been hurt. Get yourself over to the EMT right now. We’ll handle the warehouse.”

“I am perfectly capable of adding my assistance to the raid,” shot back the more-pale-than-usual Agent. “I need only to take a short breather and then I will be at the ready...   read more »

“Forgive me such crude sentiment, beloved...but I think it was a mistake for you to come here.” The mahogany-haired woman said to her husband while she reached to touch his white face, both of them shrouded by the incomplete darkness of their balcony box, the most famous balcony box in the world. “You don’t look as though you feel all that well, of a sudden. Of course, it could just be this dim light. Oh, my...you’re so clammy! Are you all right? I...   read more »

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D’Agosta groaned audibly, his body quivering with the unspent tremor of boredom that was rushing through his veins.

Some f*ck was making a scene at the airport...his airport, today. Probably some payback for Southampton...Why did they always send...   read more »

Agent Pendergast’s chauffer came by for V tonight; V. now obsessed w/ hunting down Pendergast’s brother, is going to try to weasel out some personal time. Hope this does not hurt my chances at making Captain.

Whoa. Guy just committed suicide; evidently friends w/ Pendergast. V. freaking out. Must study odd knots, fibers found at crime scene.

V. acting v. strange; has new cell phone. I should buy a new one; mine’s pretty old.

Bastard. Just broke up with me. Must buy gin.

FBI agent in DC killed by antique sword; also knew Pendergast. Odd.

Received report of professor poisoned in New Orleans last month — apparently yet another friend of Pendergast. Odder.

V. called me; now claiming Pendergast’s brother behind the killings — but his brother’s dead.

WTF — the DNA evidence in the killings matches Pendergast — but I thought he was dead — and the guy seemed decent enough back when I worked w/...   read more »

Ephram Taff depressed the security switch beneath his desk in response to the light rap on the studded, metal-banded doors of heartwood mahogany, breathing out a soft sigh as he did so. No one beat a tattoo quite like Georgia did.

The locks disengaged with a soft, well-oiled snick and she approached his desk like an actress on the red carpet, as poised as though a thousand eyes were on her with a dozen cameras capturing her every angle, her every move. Ephram watched her come. Well, she was right about the cameras; he’d monitored her ever since she entered the building, thirty-one stories below.

He waited for her to come to a stop before the massive desk where he sat silently studying her, one finger pressed to his lips. A minute passed but Georgia never flinched beneath his regard, displaying her characteristic preternatural composure. He spoke at last. “You know...   read more »

Diogenes Pendergast let his eyes roam carefully up and down the woman standing before him. As players went, she was technically one of the best sexual partners he had ever had but beyond that she was emotionally backward. And she could never match his Gwen for showmanship — not even with all of her professional experience.

Viola had her good points though. She normally did as she was told, but as the Bard said, “Aye, there’s the rub”. She did not do “normally” this time. She had proved to be quite adept at playing games with his brother. Too adept. She had been an excellent confidant and for years had been there when he needed her. It ticked Diogenes off no end that his beautiful Galatea could turn out to be such a dolt where Aloysius was concerned.

Sitting comfortably in the only really decent chair in the house, a...   read more »

His parents were dead—burned alive—and no one had even noticed 18 year old Diogenes Pendergast had been crying. The tears fell off and on the entire car ride to Baton Rouge, no one had noticed and no one had tried to comfort him.

...

He sat in the leather chair, slumped forward with his hands hanging between knees. His expression was grim, lost and just empty. It had been two days and he hadn’t spoken a single word, had eaten nothing. He had only showered and slept. (No one knew he’d snuck out the first night to see Charles Duchamp, a friend of his brother’s.) He was waiting for his brother Aloysius to arrive. Aloysius would know what to do; he always knew what to do.

A door banged open and...   read more »

She had been having the dreams for about two days. By the second day, they were no longer confined to her sleeping hours. She found herself “winking out,” as she called it, even when standing at the stove stirring canned soup, or doing dishes at the small sink. Always the same vision. Always a man, dressed in black clothing, face pale as if nearly drowned or nearly frozen, always the same message: help me.

When she could stand it no longer, having winked out this time sitting on the couch trying to read a murder mystery, she put the book down on the coffee table, laced up her running shoes, and went out the door, flinging on her hooded sweatshirt as she exited.

The boat shed was where she headed. She didn’t know why, or how she knew that, she just knew that was where she had to be and she...   read more »