D is for Deadbeat is the fourth in the Kinsey Millhone mystery series by Sue Grafton. My name is Kinsey Millhone. I’m a private investigator . . . female, single and self-employed, with a constitutional inability to work for anyone else. I’m a purist when it comes to justice, but I’ll lie at the drop of a hat. Inconsistency has never troubled me . . . It was late October, the day before Halloween. He introduced himself as Alvin Limardo. The job he hired Kinsey to do seemed easy enough . . . until his cheque bounced. His real name was Dagett. John Dagett. Ex-con. Inveterate liar. Chronic drunk. And dead. The cops called it an accident – death by drowning. Kinsey wasn’t so sure. The man, it seemed, had a lot of enemies . . .
The Seascape was a twenty-four-foot Flicka, a gaffrigged sloop with a twenty-foot mast, teak deck, and a fiberglass hull that mimicked wood. I tapped on the cabin roof, calling a hello toward the open doorway.
Private Investigator Kinsey Milhone is back on the job, hired by a privileged parolee's father to keep her out of trouble. It should be an easy assignment-until the parolee's past starts coming back to haunt her.
Sociopath Solana Rojas uses a stolen identity as a private caregiver to gain access to her intended victims while endeavoring to outmaneuver private investigator Kinsey Millhone.
There was a fishing trawler in drydock, its exposed hull tapering to a rudder as narrow as the blade of an ice skate. I found a spigot near a corrugated metal shed and doused my head, drinking deeply before I headed back, my leg muscles ...
First, Kinsey's car is run off the road, and then days later, she's almost gunned down, setting in motion a harrowing cat and mouse game... G IS FOR GUMSHOE So Kinsey decides to hire a bodyguard.
PHENOMENAL PRAISE FOR THE MYSTERY NOVELS OF #1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR SUE GRAFTON “Exceptionally entertaining ... An offbeat sense of humor and a feisty sense of justice.” —San Francisco Chronicle “Millhone is an engaging ...
This superior outing will remind readers why this much-loved series will be missed as the end of the alphabet approaches.”—Publishers Weekly (starred review) X: The number ten. An unknown quantity. A mistake. A cross. A kiss.
"Two seemingly unrelated deaths, one a murder, the other apparently of natural causes.
Morgan's lips worked soundlessly, but he didn't release the strike he held ready in his hand. “Morgan,” the girl said, quietly this time. “It's all right. Stand down.” “You aren't the captain,” Morgan mumbled. “You can't be.
The Lord probably has a seven-knot hull speed, and with the right puff of wind it should have gone much farther. When they found the boat, it was stalled and drifting. The jib was backwinded, sheeted to the windward side, in effect, ...