Courting Trouble

L
ISA
S
COTTOLINE

To my readers, with my deepest thanks

For your dedication, I offer my own

Table of Contents

PerfectBound Exclusive e-Book Extras:
A L
ITTLE
M
ORE
A
BOUT
L
ISA
O
NE
N
IGHT ON
M
Y
B
OOK
T
OUR
T
HE
N
OVELS

E
PIGRAPH

1
 Anne Murphy barreled through the bustling lobby of the William Green Federal Courthouse, her long, auburn hair flying.

2
 R
OSATO
& A
SSOCIATES,
read the brass nameplate affixed to the sky-blue wall, and Anne stepped off the elevator into . . .

3
 Seagulls squawked over a greasy brown bag in a trash can, and dappled pigeons waddled along the weathered boardwalk, . . .

4
 Half an hour later, Anne had turned in her apartment key to a puzzled realtor and was streaking toward the Atlantic City . . .

5
 The smell that greeted Anne when she opened the door into her kitchen wasn’t one she’d ever come home to.

6
 Anne stood in her second-floor hallway, scratching Mel to keep him quiet and listening to the shuffle of feet below.

7
 Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Mary gasped, just before Anne clamped a firm hand over her mouth and backed her . . .

8
 Anne fled to the back corner of the elevator as Matt Booker stepped in with his clients, Beth Dietz and her ponytailed . . .

9
 Fifteen minutes later, Uncle Sam and her large, stuffed manila envelope were downstairs in the office lobby, being let out . . .

10
F
RANKIE
& J
OHNNY
’
S,
said the sign on the storefront, in funky black letters. The windows had been covered with plywood . . .

11
Fifteen minutes later, a cherry-red Mustang idled in an illegal parking space, pointing toward an unsuspecting gay bar.

12
What’s going on?” “Gil Martin’s here,” Bennie answered. “Carrier’s in with him.” “
What?
Gil? Here? Why?”

13
Anne, in her white baseball cap and black Oakleys, Bennie, and Mary stood in the bright but tiny third-floor kitchenette.

14
Bennie steered the Mustang through the city traffic, keeping an eye on the rearview mirror. By now Anne had learned . . .

15
Outside the second-story window, dimestore firecrackers popped and holiday lasers sliced the night sky, but Anne . . .

16
Matt looked like he’d been punched in the face. An inch-long cut tore though his left cheek, jagged and freshly red, . . .

17
Loser!
Anne’s heart sank. The Mustang had been towed! She cursed herself and her red roots. Her bad planning and her . . .

18
The Chestnut Club was one of Philadelphia’s grandest gray adies, a Victorian mansion with a huge, paneled entrance . . .

19
The interview room at the Roundhouse, Philadelphia’s police headquarters, was as full as a stateroom in a Marx Brothers . . .

20
S
CHWARTZ
’
S
F
LOWERS,
read the sign outside, and the dark-haired sales clerk was so harried that she barely looked up . . .

21
Anne was surprised to discover that a lime-green VW Beetle could be almost as much fun as a Mustang convertible.

22
There was no lobby in the Daytimer Motel, only a small paneled room with a fake-wood counter that blocked access to . . .

23
There was almost no traffic heading into the city, and the Beetle zoomed up the steep slope of the Ben Franklin Bridge, . . .

24
It was dark by the time Anne and Mary reached the squat row house somewhere in the redbrick warren that was South . . .

25
The commissioner’s private conference room at the Roundhouse was large and rectangular, and contained a long walnut table . . .

26
I DO NOT BELIEVE YOU DID THAT!” Bennie was yelling at Anne from the passenger seat of Judy’s Beetle, and her voice . . .

27
Anne dashed down the sidewalk to Judy’s car. Her breath came raggedly and her knees had gone weak. She looked behind her.

28
The sun was still high but glowing a late-day orange, scorching a slow descent through the sky. The air had grown oppressively . . .

29
Boom!
A white chrysanthemum burst into bloom and faded to a sparking skeleton as the first fireworks went off in the night . . .

30
At the interview room of the Roundhouse, fluorescent lights on the ceiling cast harsh shadows that hollowed out the faces of . . .

31
It wasn’t an hour later, delivered by a speeding squad car, that Anne was home, dressed in jeans, a pink tank top, and yellow . . .

32
On the front step stood Beth Dietz and she looked like she’d been crying. “Can . . . I come in?” Sobs choked her voice, and she . . .

33
The fifth of July, a Tuesday morning, dawned clear and cool, the temperature hovered at a civilized seventy degrees and with . . .

A
CKNOWLEDGEMENTS

A
BOUT THE
A
UTHOR

A
LSO BY
L
ISA
S
COTTOLINE

C
REDITS

C
OPYRIGHT

A
BOUT THE
P
UBLISHER