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Obsession in Death (In Death 40)

Page 159

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She laid her hands on his face a moment. “Just you. So let’s go get drunk.”

“The year’s nearly done, another ready to start. I can’t think of anything I want more than to be home with you.”

As revelers celebrated in Times Square, as a killer wept bitter, bitter tears in her cell, they drove home, to get perfectly drunk.


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