Dead Winter

Cover Dead Winter
Genres: Fiction
But I thought it might be Sylvie Szabo, returned early from her book promotion tour of the West Coast. Sylvie liked frozen pizza and the Red Sox, and she did exclaim wonderfully about the bass bugs and other flies that I liked to create.
Besides, after Kat, Sylvie’s uncomplicated, fun-loving approach to lovemaking would have been welcome.
So I picked up the receiver and said, “Coyne’s house.”
There was a hesitation on the other end. Then a soft man’s voice said, “Is this the lawyer?”
I sighed.
...“Yeah. Who’re you?”
“Desmond Winter’s lawyer?”
“Yes.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“You need a lawyer?”
“Well, yes. But specifically I need you.”
“Who are you?”
“My name’s Cooper. Ernie Cooper.”
“Okay, Mr. Cooper. What’s on your mind?”
“Not on the phone.”
“Oh, Christ,” I muttered. “Call me at my office, then. My secretary will make an appointment for you.”
“No. I have to see you now. Tonight.”
“Sorry. Can’t make it.”
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