Jennifer Sturman - The Key

Здесь есть возможность читать онлайн «Jennifer Sturman - The Key» — ознакомительный отрывок электронной книги совершенно бесплатно, а после прочтения отрывка купить полную версию. В некоторых случаях можно слушать аудио, скачать через торрент в формате fb2 и присутствует краткое содержание. Жанр: Триллер, на английском языке. Описание произведения, (предисловие) а так же отзывы посетителей доступны на портале библиотеки ЛибКат.

The Key: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

Предлагаем к чтению аннотацию, описание, краткое содержание или предисловие (зависит от того, что написал сам автор книги «The Key»). Если вы не нашли необходимую информацию о книге — напишите в комментариях, мы постараемся отыскать её.

Ever wished your boss would drop dead?
Of course not. Well, not really. And neither had Rachel Benjamin – until she finds herself working for Wall Street terror Glenn Gallagher on his latest pet project. Rachel thinks the deal – and Glenn – are more than a little shady, but she has a promotion at stake. It's either keep her lips sealed or kiss her partnership goodbye. Or kill Glenn. (Just kidding!)
At least she has Peter. Rachel's too-good-to-be-true fiance has moved in, and while his stuff is everywhere and he's strangely jealous of her friendly new coworker, she's confident they'll figure things out. It would help if Glenn's killer schedule didn't have Rachel working around the clock. Really, the man must be stopped.
Rachel's jokes about killing her boss don't seem so funny when Glenn is murdered. And it's even less laughable when she becomes the prime suspect. With the police hot on her very stylish heels, and the threat of an unflattering orange jumpsuit in her future, Rachel's learning the hard way to be careful what you wish for. She needs to catch the true killer quickly, before the killer catches her.

The Key — читать онлайн ознакомительный отрывок

Ниже представлен текст книги, разбитый по страницам. Система сохранения места последней прочитанной страницы, позволяет с удобством читать онлайн бесплатно книгу «The Key», без необходимости каждый раз заново искать на чём Вы остановились. Поставьте закладку, и сможете в любой момент перейти на страницу, на которой закончили чтение.

Тёмная тема
Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

“I think they make them out of graphite now,” Jake said. “It’s funny, though. Do you watch Forensic City?”

“I love that show,” I said.

“You do? Me, too,” Jake said.

“I have the entire season’s episodes on my TiVo, just waiting for the time to watch them all,” I told him.

“Well, I don’t think I’ll ruin anything by telling you they had an episode a few weeks ago in which a guy who likes to chew on toothpicks dies from chewing on a poisoned toothpick.”

“Interesting,” I said thoughtfully. “Maybe we could slip some poison into one of Gallagher’s pencils?”

“Should I be worried you’re not joking?” asked Jake.

“I don’t know. Would you be willing to help out?”

“For you? Anything.” There was a gleam in his eye.

I laughed, but my cheeks felt strangely warm.

I decided to chalk up my reaction to hunger. “Could somebody pass the ketchup please?”

We lingered over lunch, and Jake talked about adjusting to life in New York after Chicago. “I lived here after business school,” he explained. “That’s when I first worked with Gallagher-I was an associate at his old firm. But my ex-wife was from Chicago and wanted to move back. Ryan Brothers didn’t have an office there, so I took the job at Winslow, Brown. But I was never a big fan of the Midwest, and it turned out that my ex-wife wasn’t such a big fan of me. Once we split up, I hightailed it back to the East Coast.”

I’d heard around the office that Jake was newly divorced after a short and unsuccessful marriage, but we hadn’t talked about it much. He seemed glad to be back in New York except, of course, for the inevitable lament about real estate. “The prices are insane.”

“I was lucky,” I told him. “I bought my apartment years ago.”

“Is there enough room for the two of you?” Jake knew that Peter had just moved in.

“It’s a little cramped right now, but we’ll figure it out,” I said with false confidence. Given that every closet was already filled to bursting, I wasn’t sure how this was going to happen. But I loved my home-its high ceilings and southern light and old-fashioned details-and I really didn’t want to move. It was only since Peter had arrived that I’d realized just how attached I was to the place, and how much I’d gotten used to having my own space.

There had been a lot of snow over the weekend, but it had warmed up since then and the pristine white piles were quickly melting into dirt-colored slush. We had to navigate the pavement carefully on our way back to the office.

We missed the light at the corner of Madison and Fifty-first, but I was still scoping out the enormous puddle lapping at the curb, trying to figure out the best way across it, when the signal changed from the orange hand of “Don’t Walk” to the striding white figure of “Walk.”

“I’ve got you covered,” Jake said.

“What-” I started to ask.

He grabbed me around the waist and hoisted me over his shoulder as if I weighed nothing, which most certainly was not the case, especially not after the meal I’d just consumed. He stepped easily over the puddle and continued across the street before depositing me on the opposite corner.

My feet were dry, but if my cheeks had felt warm before, now they were burning.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Anytime,” he grinned.

chapter six

A mountain of work waited for us in the office, but we were sufficiently fortified by lunch to get through it at an efficient pace. Still, it was well after nine by the time I let myself into my apartment.

I sensed instantly that something extraordinary was underway.

“Peter?” I called out, kicking off my shoes. I shrugged out of my coat and left it with my hat and scarf draped over one of the cardboard boxes in the foyer.

“In here,” he answered.

“In where?”

“The kitchen.”

“Why?” I asked. An old Van Morrison CD was playing on the stereo, and the apartment smelled strangely of food. My stomach reminded me with a rumble that lunch, however fortifying, had been a long time ago. I picked a path through the cartons that lined the hallway, heading toward the room in question.

“Why do you think?”

“Oh my God.” I stood in the kitchen doorway, frozen with shock.

He was cooking.

“Lasagna all right with you? It seemed like a good choice for a cold night. It’s almost ready. Here, let me pour you a glass of wine.”

I struggled for words. “But-how? With what?” I didn’t see any plastic containers from restaurant takeout, or even one of those orange boxes with the trusty Stouffer’s logo. And the microwave was quiet. None of it made any sense.

“A casserole dish. The oven.”

“It works?” I’d gotten a letter from ConEd years ago, warning that they were turning off the gas since it registered such little usage. I was pretty sure I’d never responded.

“Seems to.” He handed me a glass of Barolo.

“I have a casserole dish?”

“It was a bit dusty, but I rinsed it off.”

“But-but didn’t you need spices and herbs and ingredient stuff?”

“There’s a grocery store a couple of blocks away. They even deliver.”

He was trying to act nonchalant, but he was clearly pleased with himself.

I put my glass down and wrapped my arms around him. “Will you marry me?”

“I’ll give it some thought.”

A few minutes later he banished me from the kitchen so that he could put the finishing touches on the meal. In the living room, I saw that he’d even set the small table. Place mats! Who knew I owned place mats?

I went to stow my briefcase in the tiny room that I used as a study and which technically elevated my apartment from a one-bedroom to a two-bedroom, although it had never been clear to me how it could possibly fit a bed when it could barely fit a desk and chair. The PC was on-Peter must have been using it-so I took a moment to check my personal e-mail account. My BlackBerry was like an extra limb, almost surgically attached to me and ensuring that I rarely fell behind on my work e-mail, but my home account tended to fill up.

Most of it was spam. The Internet was supposed to usher in a golden age of targeted, one-to-one marketing, but I refused to believe that I was the target market for penile implants. I sent message after message into the trash bin, clicking the mouse with increasing impatience and speed.

As a result, I nearly missed an e-mail from Luisa confirming drinks the following evening. In a fortuitous twist of events, all four of my college roommates were in New York this week, and we’d agreed to meet at the King Cole Bar at the St. Regis Hotel. I hit Reply All to caution them that I might be a bit late, but I resolved at the same time to make it out of the office at a decent hour. Gallagher and his deal would suck up every second if I let them.

The next and last e-mail also nearly missed being tossed into the trash bin. And once I saw it, I almost wished I’d deleted it unread.

The subject line read Important. Of course, all of the Viagra ads claimed relevance and urgency, too.

But the return address was from manofthepeople@rsnd.net. Not the most legitimate-sounding address-it had a self-righteous rabble-rousing air to it-but it seemed more likely to be a real person than one of the randomly assorted strings of letters that most of the Viagra ads came from.

I clicked it open. The message was short, and cryptic.

Perry’s dirty and so is this deal.

And they’ve done it before.

That was it. That was all it said.

chapter seven

T he mouse suddenly felt like a burning coal, and I grabbed my hand away. I had the sinister sensation there was someone else in the room, a presence at my shoulder.

Читать дальше
Тёмная тема
Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

Похожие книги на «The Key»

Представляем Вашему вниманию похожие книги на «The Key» списком для выбора. Мы отобрали схожую по названию и смыслу литературу в надежде предоставить читателям больше вариантов отыскать новые, интересные, ещё непрочитанные произведения.


Отзывы о книге «The Key»

Обсуждение, отзывы о книге «The Key» и просто собственные мнения читателей. Оставьте ваши комментарии, напишите, что Вы думаете о произведении, его смысле или главных героях. Укажите что конкретно понравилось, а что нет, и почему Вы так считаете.

x