And now... an exclusive, sneak-peak excerpt from Goldman's hottest thriller!"Dunston."
"What now, Wellings?"
Dunston lazed his hand to scratch two days' beard growth, eyes like the Frisco bay at 6am. Anyone would be so stunned given a day like his. Harper long-since packed his office wares and left. Too much pressure. Now here's Wellings, the new partner, undaunted, naïve as a playground crush.
Wellings craned his neck with highschool bravado: "We're not done here yet. You got that? You've been on this force too long to unravel right now."
It was a quiet concession, but Ill at ease, Dunston knew it was so. He just needed some time. And maybe even new love in his life. He leaned and thought about it. He never looked or felt so slovenly.
"Maybe my calculator's broken," he said. "Because nothing's adding up."
Some cases are cracked like a nutshell: After some steady pressure you finally make the big break. The case is split wide open, and you find just the nut you were looking for. Still, other cases are cracked like an eggshell: From the outside it seems a clean and easy break, but just a millimeter's journey passed that simple white surface, and the yoke's on you.
"Or in this case—me," thought Detective Dunston Durdle: "The yoke's on me."
Some cases are cracked like a nutshell: After some steady pressure you finally make the big break. The case is split wide open, and you find just the nut you were looking for. Still, other cases are cracked like an eggshell: From the outside it seems a clean and easy break, but just a millimeter's journey passed that simple white surface, and the yoke's on you.
"Or in this case—me," thought Detective Dunston Durdle: "The yoke's on me."
—p. 18 of Dunston Durdle: A Detective Story
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