Two For The Money (The Harry Starke Novels Book 2)

An old friend called me at half past nine on a Tuesday night in mid-August, scared out of his mind. By the time I got there he was dead on the floor with a twenty-two beside his hand.

I hadn't seen Tom Sattler in years. Then, out of nowhere, the phone rang: he was in trouble, needed help, and it couldn't wait until morning. I arrived at the big house on the hill within the hour, only to find the door locked and nobody answering the bell. I picked the lock, let myself in, and found him lying on his white living-room carpet in a pool of blood.

The police took one look and called it suicide. Neat, tidy, case closed.

But I've been doing this a long time, and I know one thing for certain: a man who's decided to end it all doesn't call an old buddy an hour before he does it and beg him to come. Tom didn't shoot himself. Somebody wanted it to look that way, and they'd done a good job of it.

Now I'm the only one asking why. And the deeper I dig into what Tom had gotten himself into, the clearer it becomes that whoever did this isn't finished, and that I've just walked myself square into their sights.

My name is Harry Starke. Tom called me because he had nobody else. I'm going to find out who killed him if it's the last thing I do, which, by the way this is going, it just be.

Two for the Money. A Harry Starke Novel, Book 2.

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