Red Emeralds-e

A Zack Taylor Adventure, Vol. 3 by Spencer Dane

If action has a name, it’s Spencer Dane! In Volume 3 of the Zach Taylor Adventure Series, Zach is drawn into the hunt for three paintings known as Red Emeralds. One contains a secret that can tip the balance of power between crime families in the United States and Europe -- but which one? Meanwhile, Erin McShane continues her quest to find her father, only this time it leads her down a path more deadly than before. Will Zach rescue her in time? Will they end up together? With a ruthless assassin on his trail and a new archenemy watching his every move, Zach must deal with his feelings for Erin as well as his renewed interest in former flame Jocelyn Haley, whose role in a controversial motion picture puts her in harm’s way. An absorbing tale for those who love adventures with a touch of romance!

Finalist in the 2010 Royal Palm Awards.

ISBN 978-1-59431-789-7 Thriller / Action-Adventure

Also available in RTF and HTML formats.

Chapter 1

Inside a dimly lit alleyway behind Triumph Palace, an exclusive apartment complex in the heart of Manhattan's upper west side, a moonless April night provided cover for a woman bent on committing robbery.

Antonia "Toni" Manzano cut the cable on the building's rear surveillance camera. After setting the countdown timer of her watch for fifteen minutes, she slipped inside through a service entrance.

Long before the Palace security team noticed the camera was off-line, Toni had made her way to the 40th floor. She moved outside, stepping over a barbwire-threaded railing onto a narrow ledge. Slowly working her way around the perimeter, she arrived on the balcony of the apartment where best-selling author and fine art collector Seymour Terhune Wilson resided.

The young woman snapped on a pair of rubber surgical gloves, drew a .38 special from her shoulder holster, and attached a silencer. She opened the sliding glass door leading to Wilson's bedroom. Inside, she found a frail old man sitting propped up in an easy chair next to his bed breathing oxygen from a bottle through tubes in his nose. He wore red plaid pajamas and a white velour bathrobe.

Toni had expected to find someone in much better health.

The author spotted her but didn't react. He was lost in thought. As he scribbled notes on a yellow legal pad, his throat wheezed with every breath. He continued writing for another thirty seconds. When he was done, he looked up at her, put down his pen, removed his reading glasses, and gently placed them on the night stand. He reached for a full glass of Napoleon brandy, took a long sip, and swallowed.

When he finished savoring the liquid, he raised his glass weakly and offered it to her.

Toni shook her head.

She pointed her pistol directly between his eyes.

Wilson placed the glass on the night stand, lifted a very thick book off it, and pointed to the title on the cover of the dust jacket.

The words Moonless Murderess stood out in letters the color of fresh blood.

Wilson's latest non-fiction best-seller revolved around the unsolved murder of Louie Zambesi, a Bronx drug dealer and member of the Baldacci crime family. The author's meticulous study of crime scene data combined with insider information enabled him to profile Zambesi's killer while also linking that individual to several unsolved murders, including three Miami gang members in Manhattan and a con artist in Connecticut.

His theory was that the killer was a free-lance professional assassin working for Zambesi's boss. Using evidence collected from the various crime scenes, he also determined that the killer was a woman. The only thing he didn't know was her name.

"Possessing an attractive and unmistakably female figure, the assassin silently slipped into the author's bedroom. She wore skin-tight black clothing with a ski mask over her face and hair."

Wilson's voice was gray and shallow, the years of cigarettes and alcohol having taken their toll.

He motioned toward the yellow legal pad.

"When I saw you standing there, that's what popped into my head and now I have captured it on paper. Pungent prose, don't you agree?"

Toni didn't respond.

Wilson pointed to the dust jacket again.

"Are you here for an autographed copy?"

Unfamiliar with Wilson's latest book, she failed to see the irony in his question. She continued to train her pistol on his forehead.

"I came for Red Emeralds."

Wilson's eyes flicked to a painting hanging above the fireplace mantle, a recent addition to his collection of fine artwork. For a split second, Toni looked toward the painting. Immediately, she looked back at Wilson.

Slowly, he arose, took off his bathrobe, folded it neatly, and placed it upon the chair. Then, he pulled back the comforter atop the bed and crawled under the sheets, propping up his head with two fluffy pillows.

"I always wanted to die in bed." There was an air of resignation in his voice. "I had hoped it would be with a lover."

Toni followed his movements with her pistol.

"I'm not here to kill you."