By Brenda Joyce
Irrepressible heiress and intrepid sleuth Francesca Cahill strikes from her personal glittering global of 5th street to the teeming underbelly of society, a spot of delight, passions…and occasionally lethal perversion.Despite the misgivings of her fiancé, Calder Hart, Francesca can't draw back from a possibility that's terrorizing the tenement local of reduce big apple. A madman has attacked 3 girls, yet whereas the 1st sufferers survived, the 3rd is located lifeless. the entire sufferers are impoverished yet appealing Irishwomen—andFrancesca fears that her expensive associates Maggie Kennedy and Gwen O'Neil can be next.Soon she is operating together with her former love, police commissioner Rick Bragg—Calder's part brother and worst rival. yet while Calder's jealous passions go away his courting with Francesca teetering at the verge of collapse, Francesca is frantically at the killer's path, definite the Slasher will strike back, afraid she's going to be too late.…
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Extra info for Deadly Illusions
No,” Gwen breathed, fumbling in her shopping bag. ” Francesca carried a candle and matches as well, but she waited for the other women to light the wick. Gwen’s hands were shaking so badly, though, that Francesca took the candle and match from her, struck a spark and lit it. Instantly the small, grim entry was illuminated. Someone had hung a cracked mirror on one peeling wall in a futile attempt at decoration. “Let’s go, Bridget,” she said with false cheer, shivering. They hurried upstairs in single file, the steps creaking beneath their feet.
Francesca carefully noted a spot near her left knee. “I must have brushed the sheets,” she remarked, more to herself than to him. “The sheets? ” How casual he sounded. She wrung her hands and met his gaze. ” He softened, approaching and taking her small hands in his large ones. “We will be the talk of the town, will we not, darling? I can see it now. My indiscretions, my past, my penchant for depravity, my shocking art—all will become passé. You shall meet me at an affair covered in blood, or with the smell of gunpowder on your clothes and in your hair.
Francesca could hardly breathe as Julia said, “Are you going to join us, Francesca? You are a bit late, of course, but I am sure the traffic must have been terrible. And as you can see, your fiancé called. ” Francesca had the utmost difficulty tearing her gaze from Hart. But there was an odd note in Julia’s tone, anxiety, perhaps, or tension. ” Calder stepped away from the dining table. ” Francesca had no clue as to what he was speaking about. Before she could react he was at her side, his arm around her waist as if holding her up.
Deadly Illusions by Brenda Joyce