Stalker: A Decker/Lazarus Novel (Decker/Lazarus Novels)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
L.A. Homicide Detective Peter Decker never wanted the perils of his job to touch his family. But now his two worlds have collided.
A first-year rookie with the LAPD's Hollywood Division, Cynthia Decker became a cop against the wishes of her father, Peter Decker. But police work is in her blood, and she's determined to make it on her own—even now, when her razor-sharp instincts for danger are telling her that something is very wrong . . .
The signs are impossible to ignore: things being moved around in her apartment, the destruction of personal effects. But it's a harrowing trip down a dark canyon road that confirms Cindy's worst fears. Someone fiendishly relentless, and with decidedly evil intentions, is stalking her. And with Peter Decker isolated from her troubles by his own investigation into a disturbing series of car-jackings, it's up to Cindy to find out who in her personal and/or professional life wants her frightened or harmed . . . or dead.
more. Then we get a rash of carjackings and start looking in other areas. And I happen to come across Tarkum in Hollywood and start asking questions. To see if I can’t tie it into these recent jackings. And, of course, I can’t because Tarkum is probably unrelated to Devonshire’s jackings. You said that yourself.” “I said it might be unrelated,” Decker said. Oliver said, “So now I come across Tarkum, and you think of Crayton because the two jackings both involve rich people with fancy cars
Honda over to the spot and pulled in behind one of the four cruisers. Milt Korman had arrived at the scene in a black-and-white. The brass had dictated that unmarkeds were to be used only when the element of surprise was necessary. Otherwise, it was preferred that the Dees use standard cop cars. It gave the appearance of more police out on the road. Marge thought about that as she got out of her Honda. No one said anything to her, so she was a happy camper. The door to Korman’s cruiser was open,
malls?” Oliver said. “Yeah, I hate shopping,” Korman groused. “Anyway, she was lost and was so intent on finding her car, she didn’t notice if the perp was following her or not.” “The perp was definitely a he?” Oliver asked. “She said it was a he.” Marge became animated. “She saw him?” “No. Hold on a minute.” Korman turned cranky. “Let me get this out, okay? She didn’t notice anyone following her. She finally found her car by pushing on the panic button.” Oliver said, “Another thing wrong
black hair, then secured his yarmulke to his head with a bobby pin. “Hi,” he said to her. “Hi,” Cindy answered. Jacob opened the door. He looked at Marge, then down at Vega. Though she was thirteen, Vega was small as well as small-boned. Her mocha-colored skin was smooth and stretched over wide cheekbones. Her blue eyes were always observing and evaluating. “Hi, Jacob,” Marge said. “This is my daughter, Vega.” The teenager cracked a smile. It opened up his face, gave him some life. “Hi. Come
the contract without stiff penalties, let alone ruin the image. When people see you desperate, they chuck you out like vomit. Look, I’m not totally innocent of that kind of thing. I have to keep a certain face for show. I drive a Beemer…well, I used to drive a Beemer. You need a good car for show, but I got mine at a very good price—all cash. Now it’s gone, but insurance’ll take care of me. I could easily be in hock like the rest. But I’m not because I’m the bargain-shopping queen.” She turned to