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Synopsis
Dr. Hallie Mara, an attractive young MD, and
her friend Reed Kincaid learn that someone has singled out many
people, men, women, and children to die in ten cities across the
U.S. in just a few days. But because Hallie has no hard proof,
the police refuse to investigate.
When Hallie and Reed attempt to secure
that proof, what they unearth is beyond their worst fears. And
as they start zeroing in on the killer, the killer quickly zeros
in on them. Barely escaping with their lives, they finally convince
the police. But when the police start investigating, there's an
even bigger problem. It may be too late.
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"Work,
work, work!" she said.
"Guilty as sin," he said,
knowing she thought he worked too hard at times.
She turned, studied the furniture
and high-tech equipment and ran her finger along her lower lip,
focusing like an urban refuse planner at the city dump.
"Maybe," she said, "a
nice entertainment center could enclose all this stereo and audio
stuff."
"Sound advice."
She ignored his pun. "And maybe
a nice sofa opposite your drive-in theater."
"I like nice sofas," he
said, picturing them getting real comfortable on one.
"And maybe you could put that
cutesy butter churn with the Daffy Duck sticker somewhere. Perhaps
with your Nehru jacket."
He heard the loud ding of metal
- a car bottoming out in his driveway. Looking up, he saw Kyle's
dark-blue Chevy Tahoe pull in behind Hallie's car.
Reed
walked to the door, opened it, and couldn't believe his eyes.
Kyle looked like he'd gone a few rounds with Mike Tyson. Kyle's
ears had no tooth marks, but his face was flushed and damp with
perspiration. Clumps of dark-red hair hung over his bloodshot
eyes and his clothes had more wrinkles than a corrugated roof.
"Nice pajamas," Reed said.
"I belong in pajamas and in
bed," Kyle whispered, coughing and attempting a smile. He
stepped inside and glanced around. "Terrific house."
"Hi, Kyle," Hallie said,
walking from the den.
"Hey, Hallie...." he said,
coughing harshly. "Sorry guys. I've been feeling awful the
last two days."
You look awful too, Reed thought,
wondering what the hell was wrong with his older brother, the
healthiest person he knew.
"How about some water?"
Hallie asked.
"Please." He cleared his
throat again and swallowed with obvious pain.
As Hallie went to get water, Reed
led him into the living room.
"Call the police quick,"
Kyle whispered, rubbing his throat.
"Sure. But what's this all--"
"This man I met ..." His
brother suddenly stopped, stared ahead as though watching a train
wreck, then clutched his chest. Terrified, he looked at Reed,
stumbled backward and collapsed onto the sofa.
"Hallie!" Reed shouted,
moving to his brother's side.
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