{"product_id":"quarter-to-midnight-isbn-9780593336304","title":"Quarter to Midnight","description":"\u003cb\u003eDiscover \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eUSA Today\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Karen Rose’s brand-new series set in the sultry city of New Orleans and featuring a tough team of high-end private investigators who are after justice—no matter what they have to do to get it.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eGood cops. Bad cops. Only one will win.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e After completing her tours with the Marines in Iraq, Molly Sutton knew she could take down any bad guy she met. But when a family tragedy exposes the dark side of her local police, she joined up with her former CO Burke Broussard, who left New Orleans PD to set up a private investigative service for people who couldn’t find justice elsewhere.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Gabe Hebert saw the toll that working for the NOPD took on his dad and decided instead to make a name for himself as one of the best young chefs in the French Quarter. But when his father’s death is ruled a suicide after a deliberately botched investigation by his former captain, Gabe knows his dad stumbled onto a truth that someone wants silenced.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Gabe goes to his father’s best friend, Burke, for help. Burke assigns the toughest member of his team, Molly, to the case. Molly can’t believe she’s being asked to work with the smoking hot chef whose chocolate cake is not the only thing that makes her mouth water. Sparks fly as they follow the leads Gabe’s dad left them, unraveling a web of crimes, corruption, and murder that runs all the way to the top.\u003cb\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eQuarter to Midnight\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Karen Rose's amazing ability to blend fiercely smart suspense, compelling characters, sophisticated romance and a deep sense of place is nothing short of pure alchemy.\"—\u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Jayne Ann Krentz\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKaren Rose’s special seasoning is corruption and murder. Her first New Orleans novel is a winner and readers will want more.”—\u003ci\u003eCriminal Element\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A twisty, dangerous ride all the way to the end, the French Quarter setting adds an extra je ne sais quoi to this entertaining suspense novel from Karen Rose.\"—\u003ci\u003eBookPage\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePraise for the novels of Karen Rose\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"From the first rousing chapter to the last, \u003ci\u003eScream for Me\u003c\/i\u003e is intense, complex, and unforgettable.\"—\u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author James Patterson\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Riveting. Emotional. Karen Rose at her best.”—\u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Christine Feehan \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “High-wire suspense that keeps you riveted.”—\u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author Lisa Gardner\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"A high-octane thrill ride that kept me on the edge of my seat and up far too late at night!\"—\u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Lisa Jackson \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Takes off like a house afire. There's action and chills galore in this non-stop thriller.”—\u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling authorTess Gerritsen \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “A fast-paced, high-intensity story that’ll carry you along on an amazing journey.”—\u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Lori Foster \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Blistering, high-octane suspense that never lets up.”—\u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author Karen Robards\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Suspenseful and engrossing.”—\u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author Lora Leigh \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Karen Rose has written another top-notch thriller! Grab this book. You won't be able to put it down.”—\u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author, Brenda Novak\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “An up-all-night, unforgettable tale of secrets, lies, and taut suspense. Readers will want to grab this one!”—\u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Carla Neggers \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Another page-turner! Karen Rose masterfully combines an intricate mystery and a heartfelt love story. \u003ci\u003eSay No More\u003c\/i\u003e keeps you riveted until the very end.”—\u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author Laura Griffin\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eKaren Rose’s special seasoning is corruption and murder. Her first New Orleans novel is a winner and readers will want more.”Karen Rose’s special seasoning is corruption and murder. Her first New Orleans novel is a winner and readers will want more.”\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eKaren Rose\u003c\/b\u003e is the award-winning, #1 international bestselling author of twenty-six novels, including the bestselling Sacramento, Baltimore, and Cincinnati series. She has been translated into twenty-three languages, and her books have placed on the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e, the \u003ci\u003eSunday Times\u003c\/i\u003e (UK), and Germany's \u003ci\u003eder Spiegel\u003c\/i\u003e bestseller lists.\u003cp\u003e1\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe Quarter, New Orleans, Louisiana\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMonday, July 25, 9:05 a.m.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWell, will you look at what the cat finally dragged in an hour late,\" Molly Sutton drawled from where she sat perched on the edge of Joy's desk. It was an old desk, a little battered, but beautifully carved. It fit with the art deco decor in the lobby of Broussard's Private Investigations, LLC.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHer boss, Burke Broussard, liked nice things and he loved New Orleans. Their office space on the Quarter's edge was a lot more expensive than an equivalent space in the burbs, but Burke swore it was worth it for the foot traffic alone. Their full roster of well-to-do clients seeking \"Highly Qualified \u0026amp; Discreet Private Investigators\"-as their business cards said in a very dignified script-seemed to prove him right.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eScowling, Joy Thomas piloted her electric wheelchair behind the desk with practiced ease. \"You shut up. I am not that late.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMolly laughed. \"You're always here at eight and you know it. Besides, is that any way to talk to the person who brought you coffee?\" She held out a cup from the coffeehouse, fixed just the way Joy liked it. \"I figured you'd be a little rough this morning, so I came prepared.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eJoy eyed the offered cup, then took it with a reluctant nod of thanks. \"Considering you're the reason I feel like death warmed over this morning, you should have brought me coffee.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMolly lifted her brows, unable to hide her smile. \"I'm the reason? I don't remember holding your nose and pouring three hurricanes down your throat, Mrs. Thomas.\" She held up three fingers. \"Three hurricanes, Joy. Three.\" She cocked her head. \"Do you see three fingers? Or six?\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eJoy flipped her the bird. \"I see just one.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMolly choked on another laugh. In her midfifties, Joy looked so prim, so . . . matronly and proper. Never a hair out of place, she always dressed like a woman going to afternoon tea, a string of pearls ever present around her throat. The only thing missing was elbow-length gloves, and Molly bet that Joy had a pair of those, too.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eJoy might have appeared prim and frail at first glance, but the woman was strength personified. One of the first Black women to reach detective rank in the NOPD, Joy's career had ended after she was injured in the line of duty. Reinventing herself, she'd gotten her CPA license so that she could support herself and her four kids-then teenagers, now amazing adults.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShe was more than their office manager, their bookkeeper. She was like a mother, too.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHaving lost her own mother, Molly accepted Joy's mothering with gratitude.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Don't know why you're not miserable,\" Joy groused, but her expression softened with her first sip of the coffee. \"Mm. It's still hot.\" She narrowed her eyes. \"You brat. You were late, too.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMolly grinned, unconcerned. Burke ran a pretty loose ship and they all worked plenty of hours when they were on cases. \"Guilty as charged.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eJoy took another sip, closing her eyes. \"This is the good stuff. None of that burned crap from that other coffee shop.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Never,\" Molly said solemnly. \"And I'm not miserable because I was the designated driver who got all y'all's asses home safely. You're welcome, woman.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eJoy shook her head, wincing at the sudden movement. She turned on her computer and sat back in her wheelchair with a frown. \"I never did figure why you were the designated driver. It was your damn birthday, after all. You should have been the one drinking three hurricanes.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShoving her hands in the pockets of her trousers, Molly shrugged. \"Chelsea's been under a lot of pressure. She needed to let loose a little. Especially since she had a babysitter. Tell Louisa thank you for staying with Harper, by the way. That was so nice of her.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eJoy's daughter Louisa was a grad student who could have been out partying with her friends, but she'd agreed to sit with Molly's eight-year-old niece. Harper had been through so much trauma over the last few years. Molly and her sister Chelsea didn't trust just anyone to stay with her.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eJoy smiled proudly. \"She's a good one, my LouLou. She said thank you for the dinner you sent home for her. She wasn't expecting the Choux's shrimp and grits.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"It was the least I could do, seeing as how she wouldn't let me pay her.\" Molly had celebrated her birthday at Le Petit Choux, her favorite restaurant in the Quarter, its name a play on the French endearment. Because even though the food was amazing, the place was known for its desserts, including its choux pastry. And for its head chef, of course.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eJoy aimed a sly smile across the desk. \"She'd have preferred an eyeful of that chef.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMolly chuckled, her cheeks heating. \"Because LouLou's not stupid.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShe'd be lying if she said she hadn't kept her eyes open for the restaurant's chef and co-owner, who was also New Orleans' newest celebrity, having won a Food Network competition the year before. The win had driven droves of tourists and locals alike to the Choux, at least half of whom stood in line mainly for a chance to ogle Chef Hebert.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAt around six feet tall, Gabriel Hebert-pronounced \"Ay-bear\" in the New Orleans way-was very handsome. His square jaw, sexy grin, and dark red hair that curled loosely in the ever-present humidity checked off all of her boxes. Not to mention how his shoulders filled out that chef's jacket. And-not that she'd ever admit to ogling-his butt looked very nice in the black trousers that completed his uniform.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWhile she wasn't looking for any relationships, she'd never pass up an opportunity to admire the Choux's head chef. He'd personally served his decadent chocolate cake last night with its single burning candle, standing at her shoulder while her sister and friends sang the birthday song before cutting the first slice for her with a flourish.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eLike he'd done on every one of her birthdays for the past three years.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eLike he did for everyone on their birthday.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSo it wasn't special, per se, but Molly's cheeks had still burned hotter than the damn candle. A fact that hadn't escaped her sister's attention. Even rip-roaring drunk, Chelsea had an eagle eye for such things, and she'd teased her unmercifully once they were finally alone in the car after dropping everyone else off. Luckily Chelsea was a sleepy drunk and was snoring by the time Molly had parked the car in their building's ground-floor garage.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"My daughter is certainly not stupid. Hell, I like to look at that man, too,\" Joy said, then glanced at her screen, her eyes going wide. \"Well, my goodness.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMolly leaned forward, trying to peek at Joy's screen. \"Well, my goodness what?\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eJoy tapped her mouse, minimizing the window. \"It's labeled 'Need to know,'\" she said seriously. \"Besides, don't you have an appointment this morning?\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMolly respected \"need to know.\" She wouldn't push. \"I wish I had an appointment. I just have a mountain of paperwork after closing that case last week. And I don't think anyone should have to do paperwork on the Monday after her birthday.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"You also said that no one should have to do paperwork on the Friday before their birthday,\" a male voice said dryly. \"Or the Thursday before. Or the Wednesday before, for that matter.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMolly looked up to find her boss standing in his office doorway. Burke Broussard was in his midforties and, other than a few silver hairs at his temples, hadn't changed a bit since he'd been her CO in the Marines a decade before. \"Morning, Burke. I brought you coffee, too.\" She held up the cup.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Thank the good Lord for that,\" he said fervently. \"I've been here since six.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMolly shuddered in mostly mock horror. \"Why?\" She'd left rising with the sun behind when she'd finished her final tour with the Marine Corps. Burke, however, had a love-hate relationship with mornings. He said he hated them, but he continued coming in earlier and earlier. The man was a fool.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe was also smart as hell, driven to succeed, compassionate, and generous to a fault. But a morning fool.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Come into my office,\" he said. \"I have a new client you should meet.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eJoy's eyes widened further, and she maneuvered her wheelchair so that she could unabashedly watch Molly walk into Burke's office.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd Molly immediately understood why.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSitting in the chair at Burke's conference table was none other than Gabriel Hebert, Choux chef extraordinaire. He looked tired and tense and very unhappy.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShe wondered if he'd been so unhappy the night before. He had looked tired, but not this unhappy. Of course, he might be one of those people who could put on the face they wished the world to see.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Molly, this is Mr. Hebert. Gabe, this is Miss Sutton. I'm going to assign her to your case.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMolly's brows shot up. What?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eGabe's brows shot up as well, then crunched together in a disgruntled frown. \"What? You're handing me off?\" He came to his feet. \"What the hell, Burke?\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe two men faced off, and they couldn't have appeared more physically different. Burke's skin was olive toned, his deep tan a testament to all the road biking he did in his spare time. Gabe was so lightly tanned that she might still call him pale. And, like a lot of redheads, he had a smattering of freckles across his nose.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShe'd always wanted to trace those freckles with her fingertips. She'd wondered where else he had them.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBoth men were tall, but Burke's body was bulky where Gabe's was lean. Molly loved to watch Gabe move. When he was cooking in his restaurant's kitchen, it was like watching a choreographed dance.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOnly their accents were similar-both speaking with that smooth New Orleans drawl that sounded like hot summer nights with jazz music thick in the air. Except that Gabe's voice made her shiver, when Burke's never had.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShe probably shouldn't have shivered at all, considering how angry he seemed, but her body couldn't help how it reacted. Sue me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBurke waved at him to be seated. \"I'm too close, Gabe. Your father . . . he was important to me, too. He was my partner. I had his back, and he had mine. Whatever else went down when I was on the force, I knew your father would stand by me, and he did. I don't know that I'd be able to keep an open mind.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eGabe did not sit down, his frown deepening to something almost dangerous. \"Open to what?\" he asked, each word dripping with anger and warning.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"The truth,\" Burke said simply. \"Whatever it might be. Molly's my right hand. She will not let you down. Now, please, have a seat. If, after you've talked with her, you want someone else, we'll figure it out. Don't worry. You can depend on her discretion, no matter who you choose to work your case.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eGabe released a harsh breath. \"Okay.\" He sat, then shifted his gaze to Molly, who still stood in the doorway, having not moved a muscle. He did a double take. \"Do I know . . .\" He trailed off. \"Right. Last night. Happy birthday, Miss Sutton.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBurke looked between them, his expression suddenly unhappy. \"You two know each other?\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"No,\" Gabe said.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"No,\" Molly said at the same time. \"I've been to his restaurant a few times, that's all. The girls took me there last night for my birthday. I brought you some cake,\" she added lamely. \"It's in the fridge in the break room.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Thank you, Molly.\" Clearly relieved, Burke gestured to one of the empty chairs at the table. \"Join us. As I'm sure you've figured out, this case requires extreme discretion.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMolly nodded. \"I understand. Mr. Hebert, if you decide I'm not the best fit, there will be no hard feelings. But should you choose to work with me, I'll do my very best.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eGabe's shoulders slumped, his exhaustion clear to see. \"I appreciate that.\" He swallowed hard. \"I need to find out who killed my father.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMolly glanced at Burke. \"Are the police involved?\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eGabe's laugh was bitter. \"Most likely, yes.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBurke sighed. \"What he means is, someone in law enforcement might be complicit. Or responsible.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMolly sat back, wishing she was surprised. \"All right, then. Let me have it.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe Quarter, New Orleans, Louisiana\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMonday, July 25, 9:25 a.m.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMolly Sutton was . . . Gabe wasn't entirely certain how he'd describe her. Serene. Unruffled. Unwrinkled and crisp despite the already-steamy air in the room. Despite wearing a jacket in late July, for heaven's sake. She'd been the same way the night before and every other time she'd walked into the Choux.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd yes, he'd noticed. Every single time. There was something about the woman that always drew his gaze. Okay, several things. She was exactly his type, golden blond with a face like Grace Kelly and a body like Marilyn Monroe. But it was more than her looks. There was something about her that settled him.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShe was the only diner to whom he'd personally delivered a birthday cake last night. He'd foisted all of the other cakes onto Patty, his cousin and co-owner of the Choux. But Molly's cake he'd placed on the table with as much of a flourish as he'd been able to muster.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ePatty had teased him about it when he'd returned to the kitchen, but she didn't mean any harm. She didn't know what he'd done. Didn't know why he was torn up inside. Because he'd kept it from her.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe hadn't intended on keeping it from her forever. Just until he'd had his suspicions confirmed. Otherwise, she might think him batshit paranoid and call for a family intervention.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eUnfortunately, he hadn't been paranoid. He'd been right.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eNow he wasn't telling Patty because he didn't want to put her in danger, because danger was coming their way. It already had, leaving at least one body in its wake.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd now he was supposed to drag Molly Sutton into this mess with him? Just telling her the truth would put her in a killer's crosshairs. His parents had raised him better than that.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Miss Sutton,\" he began, trying for a kind smile. \"I'm not sure you're the right person for this job.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShe smiled back, but not kindly. Not meanly, either. Just . . . warily. \"I may not be, but then again, I might.\" Her accent was Southern, but not New Orleans. Georgia, maybe. Or maybe one of the Carolinas. \"Maybe share the details and we can go from there.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eGabe cast a sideways look at Burke, who was frowning. \"What's your concern, Gabe?\" Burke asked. \"Feel free to be candid, but first let me tell you Molly's credentials. She served with me, one of the finest Marines under my command. I'd trust her with my life. Importantly, I trust her with yours.\"\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Berkley","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46300421587173,"sku":"NP9780593336304","price":8.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780593336304.jpg?v=1767735263","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/quarter-to-midnight-isbn-9780593336304","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}