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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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"Hey, I need a big screen.
See my commercials better. Check details up close."
"Like nasal hair?"
"That, gingivitis, and the infernal horror of hemorrhoids."
She laughed a nice laugh. "By the way, how are your new Mason
Industries commercials doing?"
"Great. Mason's currently setting new sales records. But
the account director, as usual, wants to fix the commercials."
"Which aren't broke?"
He nodded, "Not at all."
She walked over to his computer screen which displayed a television
commercial script he'd been working on, looked at his stacks of
work papers, bulging green file folders and a tower of TV commercial
cassettes.
"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.
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