Scar Tissue(32)

"Have it your way." Evan lashed out with his boot. The door shivered in its frame, but held. As he stepped back to wind up again, a sharp roar tore a chunk of wood out of the door, spraying splinters in all directions. As the second bullet punched through, Danny remembered the gun in the open drawer.

For a hesitant second nothing happened.

Then Evan exploded. Whatever demons shooting the pawnshop owner had freed took control of him again. He raised his pistol and pulled the trigger, aiming in a triangle of quick blasts. Not pointing at the lock but trying to hit her, trying to kill. At Danny's feet, the man groaned. Evan frothed and raged, kicking the door again. The frame was cracking, and Danny thought he could hear a whimper behind it. Everything had gone crazy, he was standing beside a pool of blood, Evan making enough noise to pull people for blocks, the lights on for Christ's sake, the fucking lights on.

Danny had taken two falls, one county and one state, done the time like a man, but for this they'd get years. No. No more.

He opened the front door and slipped out into the night. His body screamed to run, just go, but he made himself walk. Not draw attention. Just a guy headed for the El, nothing noteworthy about that.

When he was two blocks away, he heard the sirens.





AT THE CITY'S EDGE




Jason Palmer loved being a soldier. But returned from Iraq with an "other than honorable" discharge, he's finding rebuilding his life the toughest battle yet.

Elena Cruz is a talented cop, the first woman to make Chicago's prestigious Gang Intelligence Unit. She's ready for anything the job can throw at her.

Until Jason's brother, a prominent community activist, is murdered in front of his own son.

Now, stalked by brutal men with a shadowy agenda, Jason and Elena must unravel a conspiracy stretching from the darkest alleys of the ghetto to the manicured lawns of the city's powerbrokers. In a world where corruption and violence are simply the cost of doing business, two damaged people are all that stand between an innocent child—and the killers who will stop at nothing to find him.





"Nothing short of brilliant...as much a work of literary fiction as crime fiction...

Sakey's latest solidifies his position as the new reigning prince of crime fiction."

The Chicago Tribune





"Fans of The Wire will recognise the themes of race and class explored here, with the book,

like the show, unwilling to provide any easy answers...a cracking crime thriller with genuine depth."

News UK





"High-tension action, intricate plotting and a Chicago setting that thrums and pulses with the feel of the city...

Sakey, who draws disturbing and thought-provoking parallels between Baghdad and Chicago, provides enough narrow escapes,

traps and obstacles to satisfy a Die Hard fan, but enough meat to please readers who demand more than pyrotechnics."

Publisher's Weekly





Excerpt from At The City's Edge, Copyright 2008, St. Martin's Minotaur


Available as an e-book or wherever books are sold





When the man pointed a gun at him, Jason Palmer was cooling down after his daily five and picturing the first beer of the day, a sweating Corona-and-lime that he figured he'd drink in the shower. Happy hour had been coming early lately, but he'd decided not to worry about it. To pretend this was summer vacation. Spend it running along the lake, scoping the bikini-girls that hit North Avenue Beach every afternoon like rent was a concept they weren't familiar with. He pushed sweat-damp bangs out of his eyes, laced his fingers overhead, and turned into the pedestrian tunnel beneath Lake Shore Drive. The change from blast-furnace sun to cement-cool shadows left him blinking, but when his eyes adjusted there the guy was, standing like he'd been waiting.

Maybe twenty, with dark skin and predator's eyes. A sharp-edged soul patch cropped the same length as his hair. A chromed-up Beretta with the safety off. He held the weapon wrong, elbow cocked out and wrist twisted sideways, but his hand was dead steady.

"Yo, I wanna talk to you." A diamond-studded Cadillac crest hung on a rope chain around his neck. Adrenaline tingled up the back of Jason's legs. His heart, still racing from the run, thudded louder as he stared at the black hole pointed at his chest. He tried to remember everything he'd heard about getting mugged, how you weren't supposed to look at the guy, that it could make him nervous. "Easy." Jason slowly unwound his hands from his head. "It's no problem. Take the money."

Soul Patch tilted his head slightly, the smile wider. "I say anything about money?"

Jason froze. He'd never seen the man before, and didn't suspect they had much to talk about. He stood at the mouth of the tunnel, the sun roasting his back; behind him he could hear the sound of gulls calling to one another, fighting over garbage. There were always people on the beach.