Patterson, James - Alex Cross 03 - Jack and Jill. Home · Patterson, James - Alex Cross James Patterson - Alex Cross 01 - Along Came a Spider · Read more. Cross the Line by James Patterson. When a prominent Washington D. police official is murdered, Alex Cross steps in to investigate but his efforts are impeded by. I, Alex Cross DOWNLOAD PDF/ePUB [James Patterson] pdf download.
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Books by James Patterson. FEATURING ALEX CROSS. I, Alex Cross. Alex Cross's Trial (with Richard DiLallo). Cross Country. Double Cross. PDF Drive is your search engine for PDF files. Patterson, James - [Alex Cross 12] - Cross James Patterson - Alex Cross 01 - Along Came a Spider. Detective Alex Cross is one of the first on the scene of the biggest case he's ever Alex Cross is the most gripping Alex Cross novel James Patterson has ever.
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Holding a beat-up old pair of binoculars his granddad had given him, Deuce thought: Hot and sticky. Mosquitoes whined. He slapped at one that bit his ear, hearing the building thrum of cicadas in the trees and smelling smoke from a distant fire.
He lit it, took a drag, and blew smoke at the mosquitoes. That helped. Still smoking, Deuce crossed the creek and kept on the logging trail, which paralleled the waterway for almost a mile before splitting off. He went left, then started uphill, pausing every few moments to listen.
It was late Friday afternoon. Prime time. Late summer. Primer time. When Deuce neared the top of the rise, he put on a camouflage head net that almost matched the T- shirt and shorts. He eased slowly up onto the crest of the hill, peering through the tangle of vines and leaves in the last golden rays of day. He took a step. Another step. Deuce smiled, hunched over, and snuck forward and downhill toward a clearing at the end of a rutted dirt road.
There were beer cans and wrappers strewn about, a brush pile, and, on the far side of the clearing, a lone blue Toyota Camry. The engine was off. The windows were down. No music was on. Deuce was sure he knew why the car was there.
Deuce saw the naked back of one of them. The girl! And blond! More perfect. She sat up suddenly; she was seventeen, eighteen —beautiful! Then another topless blonde, younger, very pretty, rose up beside the first one. They began to kiss and caress. He found the camera icon and pressed it. This is going to be epic, Deuce thought. No one will ever forget this one.
He took a soft step, and then another, which brought him right up to the clearing. He focused a moment on the passionate girls in the backseat of the car but did not raise his binoculars for a closer look. He was on a mission now. Deuce thumbed the camera mode to video and pressed Record.
He stayed just inside the trees, in the shadows, and circled the clearing, going past the brush pile toward the Camry and coming up on it from behind and to its right. He imagined himself a panther and moved slow and careful until the car and the girls were down a bank and slightly below him, not twenty yards away. From that angle, he could see the girls were both completely naked. He was flustered, fascinated; part of him wanted to go even closer, right in the backseat if he could.
He had them framed perfectly. He was sure this would be his best effort yet.
Two blondes? It sounded like a vehicle was coming fast and heading toward the clearing. The girls heard it too and scrambled for their clothes. Are you kidding me?
Deuce groaned. He heard a shriek. He looked back at their car. One of the girls was staring out the window at him. The price of the product can be seen on PriceCheck.
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All of our shops use the South African Post Office or reputable couriers to deliver goods. She had the most gorgeous green eyes, full red lips, and the cutest little plaid bow planted in her hair.
Sullivan had decided one thing about her right away — Marianne was a little cock tease, and that was all right with him. He liked to play games too. And Mr.
Keats, Mr. Blake, Mr. Byron, weren't they before your time? Then he took Marianne's hand, and he lightly kissed it. He pulled her away from her barstool and did a tight Lindy twirl to the Stones song playing on the jukebox. No worries. Trust me. Besides, she was safe inside the bar on M Street. What could go wrong in here? What could anybody try to pull?
Play a New Kids on the Block tune on the jukebox? Does that big smile of yours always work? Get you what you want? She was smiling too, though, daring him to bring his best moves. Sometimes it works okay, I guess. Definitely more on the romantic side than she'd expected. He didn't try to cop a feel along with the kiss, which might have been all right with her, but this was better. It was a joke, only not totally a joke.
This isn't even a date. Never crossed my mind. You're too much of a gentleman. Marianne liked that he didn't give up too easily. It didn't matter, though — she wasn't going anywhere with him.
Sullivan pushed his weight against a door — and suddenly they were stumbling inside the men's room. Then Jimmy Hats stepped up to watch the door from the outside.
He always had the Butcher's back. The men's room? This was pretty funny. Crazy funny — but funny. The kind of stuff college kids did. I pretty much do what 1 want, Marianne. Now don't say a word, Marianne, or it will be your last on this earth, I swear on my mother's eyes.
Disfigure your pretty face for life. I'm not kidding around, college girl. He lifted up her skirt, then pulled aside her blue panties. You can tell that, can't you?
He knew he shouldn't spend a lot of time here, but he didn't want to give up her tight insides. Hell, I'll never see Marianne, Marianne after tonight. At least she was smart enough not to scream or try to fight him with her knees or nails.
When he was finished with his business he showed her a couple of photographs he carried around. Just to be sure she understood her situation, understood it perfectly. Look at the pictures, Marianne. Now, you must never speak of tonight. Not to anyone, but especially not to the police. You understand?
I need you to look at me, painful as that might be. He saw fear and hatred, and it was something he enjoyed. It was a long story why, a growing-up-in-Brooklyn story, a father-and-son tale that he preferred to keep to himself. Strange to say — I like you. What I mean is, I have affection for you. Good- bye, Marianne, Marianne. Marianne Riley let herself collapse to the bathroom floor, shaking all over.
She would never forget what had just happened — especially those horrifying photographs. Well, my goodness, look who it is. Do I see Damon Cross? Do I spy Janelle Cross?
When she burst through the kitchen door, I was spoon-feeding oatmeal to Damon, while Maria burped Jannie. Jannie was crying again, poor little sick girl. It looked as if she had brought hot biscuits and — could it possibly be? Plus her usual assortment of books for the day. You holding out on me? And, of course, he did.
Nobody goes up against Nana Mama. Praise the Lord, a hot biscuit!