Faye Kellerman: Serpent’s Tooth

Published by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in the United States by William Morrow, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers , 1997

This ebook edition published by HarperCollins Publishers 2019

Copyright © Faye Kellerman 1997

Cover design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2018

Cover photography © Shutterstock.com

Faye Kellerman asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © March 2019 ISBN: 9780008293567

Version: 2018-12-10

To Jonathan after having reached

the twenty-five-year mark.

There may be silver at your temples,

but there’s only gold in your heart.

Thanks a heap, Colonel.

Now the serpent was more cunning than any other beast of the field.

—Genesis 3:1

Because you did this, you are cursed from among all the animals and beasts of the field.

—Genesis 3:14

From this we learn that we do not give one who seduces people [to do evil] the opportunity to justify his actions.

—Rashi

Sanhedrin 29a

Contents

Cover

Title Page Serpent’s Tooth Faye Kellerman

Copyright

Dedication

Epigraph

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Keep Reading

About the Author

Faye Kellerman booklist

About the Publisher

Nobody noticed him.

Not Wendy Culligan, who was too busy pitching million-dollar condos to a half-dozen Japanese businessmen more interested in her rear than in residences. Still, she patiently went about her spiel, talking about in-house services, drop-dead views, revolving mortgages, and great resale values.

Leaning over the table, showing a touch of cleavage while spearing a jumbo shrimp off the seafood appetizer plate. Along with the prawns were oysters, abalone, gravlax, and raw sea-urchin sashimi, the last item a big hit with the Asians—something about making them potent.

Men—regardless of race, creed, or color—thought only about sex. And here she was, trying to earn an honest buck while they popped squiggly things into their mouths, washing the tidbits down with sake as they licked their lips suggestively.

What’s a poor working girl to do?

Inwardly, Wendy acknowledged that Brenda, her boss, had been generous in arranging the dinner at Estelle’s. The restaurant was exquisite—all silver and crystal and candlelight. Antique mahogany buffets and chests rested against walls lined with elegant sky-blue Oriental silk screens. Exotic flower arrangements adorned every table—giant lilies, imported orchids, and twotone roses. A hint of perfume, but never overwhelming. The chairs were not only upholstered in silky fabric but comfortable as well. Even the bar area was posh—plush stools, smoked mirrors, and rich walnut panels, all tastefully illuminated with Tivoli lights.

She felt as if she were dining in a palace, wondered why the rich ever had any problems. So what if they came with baggage—their scheming mistresses and lovers, their tawdry secrets and perverted kinks, their whining children and mooching relatives. Wendy could have withstood the pain, just so long as those big bucks kept rolling in.

Transfixed by the splendid surroundings, so intent on doing her job—getting a fat and much-needed commission—Wendy didn’t blink an eye when the young man with the green sport coat walked through the door, eyeing the room with coldness and calculation.