The cops picked up FMJ's mother, sister, and baby in Boston, with $750,000 in cash. They told investigators that FMJ brought it home to stash in his room while his mother was away at work. He swore his sister to secrecy. When her mother came home, she tattled. They found it and were gone.
The man with the Mercedes put in a claim for the money. The cops told him they would discuss it only in the presence of IRS agents. They haven't heard from him since. The cops earmarked the windfall to underwrite TRAP, the new undercover Tourist Robbery Abatement Patrol. A lawyer, however, has filed a claim in behalf of FMJ's mother, who says her earlier statement was a mistake: the stash was really her savings, from tips.
I have been nominated for the Green Eyeshade Award from the Southern Society of Professional Journalists, for deadline reporting on the fatal shooting of Officer Dana McCoy. Winners will be announced next month.
My first story, my first day back at work, was the homecoming of Jennifer Carey. She came home in a wheelchair, her hair almost grown back from the surgery for her head injuries. She recognized her baby daughter and cried tears of joy as little Eileen was placed in her arms and her husband pushed them into their living room.
Lottie shot pictures. “This is the happiest day of my life,” Jason Carey told us, through tears, as we said goodbye.
I thought about that on the way back to the office. His young wife faces years of therapy, his little son is gone forever. Yet he considered this the happiest day of his life. How can I feel sorry for myself or bitter about what happened to me? Happiness is relative.
Waiting on my desk were a dozen red roses from Kendall McDonald and a stack of mail, much of it from the jail.
I will read each letter carefully this time. We are all human, we all have frailties.
Before I could even finish the Jennifer Carey story, my phone rang. “Guess what?” Rakestraw said. “We've got us a carjacking in the north end.”
“Yeah?”
“The driver's been shot in the leg.”
“Oh, no!” I snatched up a notebook. “Give me the address.” I jotted it down. “I'm on the way.”
I am grateful to South Florida's best and bravest: Sergeant William Glaister, Detective Joe Rimondi, Sergeant Jerry Green, Lieutenant Robert Murphy, Sergeant Rick Kolodgy, Lieutenant Jack deRemer, and Miami SWAT Officer George Velez; and to Joseph Harper, the man of truth. I am indebted to my steadfast friends Renee Turolla, Kal Evans, David Thornburgh, and Ann and D. P. Hughes; and I thank Joel Hirschhorn, PA, prosecutor Lisa Kreeger, Karen McFadyen, and Doctors Joseph H. Davis, Bernard Elser, Valerie Rao, and Steve Nelson for their brilliance and generosity of spirit. Photojournalist Bill Cooke and Arnold Markowitz of the
Miami Herald
gave their usual spirited support, and Mike Baxter rescued me once again from an information superhighway disaster. I also want to thank my agent, Michael Congdon, and my talented editor, Leslie Wells. Special gratitude and affection go to Ruth Ann Cione, the best and the brightest, and to Marilyn Lane, driver of my getaway car.
Friends are all that matter.
The first novel in Pulitzer Prize-winning Edna Buchanan's riveting Britt Montero series.
Meet Britt Montero, a crime reporter for a major Miami newspaper. She practically sleeps with a police scanner by her bedside. She's smartâand recklessâenough to pursue a story no matter where it takes her.
When a high-speed police chase leads to the death of a black football hero, Britt discovers that what seems like a cut-and-dry case is actually an intricate web of racially charged violence. As the city she loves explodes into a major riot, Britt is caught-up in life-threatening events that bring the case to its shocking twist.
Edna Buchanan weaves a tale about the murderous streets of Miami, and how the predator can quickly become the prey.
Miami crime reporter Britt Montero has a lot on her hands. She's investigating a series of bizarre deaths involving sex, electrocution, and freshly poured concrete. As if that isn't enough, there's the long unsolved murder of a young girl that may implicate the front-runner in the governor's race.
Pursuing a lead, Britt follows the trail of a serial rapist. Enraged by her stories, the rapist is soon the one trailing her. Tensions mount as Britt fights to uncover the truth with all the odds stacked against her.
The Britt Montero series continues with this thrilling installment from Pulitzer Prize-winner Edna Buchanan.
When Miami crime reporter Britt Montero reports a missing teenager, she discovers that the case may be related to a string of ÂÂÂÂunsolved disappearances. As Britt delves into the baffling case, an old mystery opens new wounds: she unexpectedly meets two men who knew her deceased father. Through them, Britt learns that he left a diary identifying the man who betrayed him. But the diary isn't easily possessed; anyone who finds it seems to be marked for murder. At the height of a terrifying category five hurricane, Britt needs to face the man who betrayed her father in order to uncover more than one truth, but will her hunger for justice turn her into the next victim?
Pulitzer Prize-winner Edna Buchanan's heroine Britt Montero once again delves into Miami's dark side of obsession and murder.
Crime reporter Britt Montero's dreams have been haunting her. She had to shoot a man to save her own life, and the memory of it is torturing her. Meanwhile, a major Hollywood actor strides into the newsroomâand Britt's lifeâhoping to do research for the character he portrays: a secret agent undercover as a Miami crime reporter. An obsessed madwoman stalks the star, and mysterious mishaps, accidents, and deaths push Britt and the star closer together. Both are menaced by the stalker. Or is it someone else who is determined to sabotage the film and kill the star?
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