Download A Hundred Thousand Dragons (Jack Haldean Mystery, Book 4) by Dolores Gordon-Smith PDF

By Dolores Gordon-Smith

One hundred thousand dragons lie, beneath an Arabian sky. How do a couple of strains of poetry, an opportunity come across in a London lodge, and a demise in Sussex result in a misplaced urban of Arabia, and to the tombs of the Whispering useless? Jack Haldean has avoided the reality for years, yet now, enmeshed within the net of homicide, robbery and deception, he needs to find the solution and stand up to the truth—a fact as lethal as any dragon...

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Additional resources for A Hundred Thousand Dragons (Jack Haldean Mystery, Book 4)

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You should. ” 49 Shy Abita disappeared beneath a shrewd gaze. ” That floored me. Abita unfolded from the chair. ” I rifled through my purse for a business card. I neatly wrote down my home and cell phone numbers on the back. “You will come back? ” I asked as I handed her the card. What I really meant was: you won’t take the one link I’ve got to Ben and vanish? “When I can. The schedule is tough and when I’m done with classes I’ve have to take care of my son. I’m not used to being away from him for so many hours at a time during the day.

With her clinging to me and bawling her head off like a lost calf, I slowly navigated my way down to the sheriff. ” I attempted to shake her off; she’d become a buck brush burr, refusing to let go. “I wanna go home,” June wailed. “I understand, Mrs. Everett. ” The sheriff ’s gaze raked her from bare head to bare feet. ” She released me. I squirmed away. I didn’t get far. She grabbed my hand. ” My initial response didn’t make it out of my mouth, fortunately for her. Did she want me around because I was the only woman present?

She’d pronounced her first name, A-beet-a, last name, Kay-lin. “That’s my son. ” The little boy, around three, wasn’t dressed for playing on the cold, dirty ground. Didn’t bother him; he hadn’t looked up from racing the Matchbox car back and forth. “So, Abita. Who’s our mutual acquaintance? ” Her brown eyes clouded. “No. ” “Thank goodness. ” My fake smile faltered. Occasionally clients showed up on my doorstep, hoping if I met them face to face, heard their tale of woe straight from the horse’s mouth, it’d compel me to take their case—for free—out of the goodness of my heart.

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