By G.M. Ford
Underneath the rotting floorboards of an deserted shed are human bones -- plenty of them -- the final issues a runaway rogue true-crime author and his photojournalist ex-lover anticipated to discover once they took shield from a vicious Wisconsin snowstorm. The grisly nightmare Frank Corso and Meg Dougherty have exposed is not anything they could flip a blind eye to. The hideous slaughter of a relations, undetected for fifteen years, has to be avenged, because the hunt for a killer consists of Corso midway around the state, and during a chilling heritage of violence, terror, and bloodshed. yet turning into an software of justice has made him a goal of a rage-driven maniac -- and it is resulting in ashocking fact hidden in an remoted position the place loss of life lives ... and the place no legislations protects the blameless.
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Additional resources for A Blind Eye: A Novel
He finished writing a sentence and then looked up again. “Let’s start with the bad. ” “You’ve drawn quite a crowd, Mr. Corso. We got every damn news agency in the world down in the lobby, wanting to talk to you”—she waved a disgusted hand—“. . or me, or anybody else they can get to say anything at all. ” She gestured toward the TV. “Don’t matter what channel. Turn it on and there’s some old picture of you and they’re running on about your troubles with the New York Times and all that. If it isn’t you, it’s me or the state boys tellin’ ’em we got no comment.
No matter what tree you stopped under, she was there. If you went to the library, she was sitting over in the corner reading a book. If you—” She read Corso’s expression. “Okay, so maybe I’m exaggerating a little . ” She got serious. “It’s like it was. I didn’t realize how much she’d affected me until I looked into that barn Friday morning. How I’d practically forgotten about Eldred and Tommie and James. But how Sissy”—she waved a finger—“how Sissy Warwick had never been far from my thoughts. ” She thought it over.
Front windows boarded over. He recalled Dougherty kicking in the door. Recalled her half dragging, half carrying him inside. And then lying there on the frozen floor and the candle in the darkness. The single flick- A B L I N D E Y E 31 ering flame and the empty room. And then closing his eyes to make the hammering in his head go away. And then . . The third time he opened his eyes, he sat straight up and winced as a brain-tumor headache nearly threw him back to the floor. The fallen snow reflected halogenbright through the side windows, and then he remembered it all.