by Diana Deverell
A clean-cut guy holding a metal detection wand stood beside me in the Mineshaft Saloon and Dance Hall lobby. The dude looked to be my age, twenty-nine. Like me, he wore a tomato-red golf shirt over black jeans.
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Diana Deverell
by Diana Deverell
So, had star forward Meghan Cronin tried to throw the first round game? FBI Special Agent Dawna Shepherd was ninety-nine percent convinced the answer was no. Meghan hadn’t intended to miss those free throws last night in the NCAA Women’s Basketball Championship playoff against Oregon State.
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by Diana Deverell
Special Agent Dawna Shepherd thumped the Fiat’s rusting roof. “Eleven pounds of TNT, right in here. I click my remote, these folks will move.”
Foreign Service Officer Casey Collins focused on one of the dozen shoppers crowding the pitted sidewalk in front of the shabby Budapest storefront. “I won’t mind losing the redhead.”
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