Now or Never by Elizabeth Adler Read Free Book Online

phones. Not a bad haul for an eight-hour shift. For the umpteenth time Harry wondered why man never learned that when it comes to violence, nobody wins.
    From years of practice, he shut out the racket and sat at his desk contemplating Mallory Malone.
    On television she was a hunter. Twice she had uncovered information that led to photo-fit pictures. Twice she had displayed those photo-fits on her program and the suspected criminals had been captured.
    Malone made it her business to know everything about the people she was investigating and her research team seemed endowed with second sight. She had contacts in high places and was adept at uncovering even the best-kept family secrets. People joked nervously that your slate had better be as clean as the day you were born if Malone came after you. Even the cops said she was a toughie. They said she sank her teeth into her victims like a rottweiler and she didn’t let go.
    And the only reason she got away with it was because she looked like an angel.
    Her blue eyes always had an innocent and slightly surprised expression, as though she couldn’t quite believe what she was doing. In her Donna Karan suits, she looked like corn-fed Middle America hitting the big time, and she had an ingenuous, sunshiny quality that concealed a steely shaft of ambition.
    The public might love her, but her relationship with the cops was definitely love-hate. They appreciated it when she helped them get the killers and the crack dealers and the drug runners, but they hated the fact that she made it look as though she were doing their job better than they did it themselves.
    Harry shrugged—he was between a rock and a hard place. He picked up the phone and dialed the number of Malmar Productions.
    “This is Homicide Detective Harry Jordan of the Boston PD,” he told the woman who answered. “I’d like to speak with Ms. Malone.”
    “One moment, sir. I’ll put you through to her assistant.”
    After a few minutes of surprisingly gentle piano music on hold, another voice said, “Beth Hardy here. How can I help you, Detective Jordan?”
    “I have a case I’d like to discuss with Ms. Malone. The murder a couple weeks ago of a young college student.”
    “Oh, the girl from BU?”
    “Then you read about it?”
    “I did and I felt especially bad about it. BU’s my own college. I’m not much older than she was. I couldn’t help thinking, there but for the grace of God goes little old me. Poor kid.”
    “That’s why we could use Ms. Malone’s help.”
    Beth sighed regretfully. “Sorry, Detective Jordan, but your timing’s off. She just got back from London yesterday, and for once she’s taking a break. Anyhow, the programs are all set for the next six weeks.” She hesitated, remembering Mal’s telephone call about the case. By now, the research team had probably dug out the information she had requested.
    “Tell you what,” she added. “I’ll give her a call. Maybe she’ll be interested, maybe she won’t.”
    Harry frowned. Rossetti had been right.He already felt like a fool for calling, and Malone was just an arrogant TV celebrity. “Thanks a lot, Ms. Hardy,” he said skeptically. “I won’t wait for her call.”
    Beth’s laugh was mocking. “The chip on your shoulder’s showing, detective. No promises, but I’ll see what I can do.”

8
    M AL DID NOT pick up her phone when Beth called. Instead, she lay on an overstuffed sofa in the sitting room of her exclusive Fifth Avenue apartment, staring blankly at the puffy gray clouds building up over Central Park.
    She had hyped herself up for the London interview, working on sheer nerves and adrenaline. The billionaire had proven tougher than she expected. But she had set the cat among the pigeons all right, and when the program aired later tonight, it would cause a sensation.
    The best thing was, there was nothing the vicious old bastard could do about it. She had cleared every point, every single detail with legal before she