The Myron Bolitar Series 7-Book Bundle by Harlan Coben Read Free Book Online Page A

coffee?”
    “Sure.”
    He picked up his phone. “Can you get me a black coffee? Thanks.” He put the receiver back in its cradle and looked up at her.
    “How’s Win?” she asked.
    “Good.”
    “His family owns the building?”
    “Yes.”
    “I understand Win’s become quite a financial whiz—despite himself.”
    Myron nodded, waited.
    “So you’re still hanging around with Win,” she continued. “You still have Esperanza. Not a lot changes.”
    “Plenty changes,” he said.
    Esperanza appeared at the door, the scowl still on her face. “Otto Burke was in a meeting.”
    “Try Larry Hanson.”
    She handed the coffee to Jessica, smiled eerily, and left. Jessica studied the cup. “Think she spat in it?”
    “Probably,” Myron replied.
    She put it down. “I need to cut back anyway.”
    Myron moved around his desk and sat down. The wallbehind him was covered with theater posters. All musicals. His fingers drummed the desk.
    “I’m sorry about yesterday,” she said. “I wanted to surprise you, catch you off guard. Not the other way around.”
    “Still seeking the upper hand?”
    “I guess so, yeah. Old habit.”
    He shrugged but said nothing.
    “I need your help,” she said.
    He waited.
    She took a breath and plunged. “The police say my father was killed in a robbery attempt. I don’t believe it.”
    “What do you believe?” he asked.
    “I think his murder has something to do with Kathy.”
    Myron was not surprised. He leaned forward, his eyes never staying on hers for very long. “What makes you say that?”
    “The police dismiss it as a coincidence,” she said simply. “I’m not big on coincidences.”
    “What about your dad’s friend on the force, what’s-his-name?”
    “Paul Duncan.”
    “Right, him. Have you spoken to him?”
    “Yes.”
    “And?”
    She began tapping her foot, an old, subconscious, annoying habit. She made herself stop. “Paul says it was a robbery too. He spews out all the facts about the crime scene, the missing wallet, the missing jewelry, that kind of thing. He is perfectly logical and objective, which is not his way.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Paul Duncan is a passionate man. A hothead. Herehis best friend has been murdered, and he seems almost blasé about it. It’s not like him.” She stopped, shifted in her chair. “Something isn’t right here, I don’t know how else to explain it.”
    Myron rubbed his chin but kept quiet.
    “Look, you know I was never very close to my father,” she continued. “He wasn’t an easy man to love. He was far better with his corpses than with breathing entities. He liked the idea of family, the concept—it was the actual execution he found wearisome. But I still have to find out the truth. For Kathy.”
    “How did your father and Kathy get along?” Myron asked.
    She thought about it a moment. “Better lately. When we were kids, they weren’t very close. Kathy was a mama’s girl, always hanging around my mom, wanting to be like her, the whole bit. But when she vanished, I’d venture to guess she was closer to my dad than my mom. He was crushed when she disappeared. He became obsessed. No, ‘obsessed’ isn’t strong enough. All of us were obsessed, of course. But not like my father. It consumed him entirely. Everything about him changed. He had always been the quiet county medical examiner, the man who made no waves. Now he was using his position to keep the pressure on twenty-four hours a day. He became paranoid, convinced the police weren’t doing all they could do to find her. He even started his own investigation.”
    “Did he find anything?”
    “No. Not that I know of.”
    Myron looked away. At the far wall. A movie still of the Marx Brothers.
A Night at the Opera
. Groucho looked back but offered no answers.
    “What is it?” she asked.
    “Nothing. Go on.”
    “There isn’t much else. I can only tell you that my father was acting very strangely the past few weeks. He started calling me all