A riddling tale of deceit and murder...

  On a dreary fall night in the polite and peaceful city of Portland, Oregon a prominent married   woman is   found strangled after ending a torrid affair with a mystery writer, Jonathan Timmers. Unable to prove otherwise, her forsaken lover is swiftly convicted of the sensational riverpark murder.     Writing from within his harsh prison cell, the tormented author seeks the support of a grizzled homicide detective, Brian Kierzek,   and an upstart attorney, Lacey Rosetto as he attempts to unravel the tangled web of deceit   by penning the story of the scandalous crime.  

                    Excerpt from "Deception ..."
  Police Lieutenant, Brian Kierzek made his way to the core of the riverpark where he saw the heavy activity taking place inside a large rectangular area cordoned off by bright yellow police-line barrier tape. The atmosphere was hushed as everyone moved around warily, speaking in lowered voices, strange, but typical behavior whenever a corpse lay in their midst. The death scene, he thought. Slowly approaching the site, he inhaled deeply when he saw the still bulge lying near the edge of the riverwalk, covered with a black body tarp.

Officer Ed Cuyler kept his distance as Kierzek ducked his gangly body underneath the tape. He knew not to crowd the vigilant detective at this moment. He'd learned to leave his boss alone while he adjusted to the realism of the grim discovery. All the activity in the immediate area slowly ceased. Everyone who didn't already know Kierzek's style in treating death had been briefed before he'd arrived. The casual veil of   just another stiff   had to be lifted. Moreover, any gallows humor, a prevalent undercurrent at all crime scenes, would be dealt with harshly if Kierzek got wind of it.

Kierzek steadily pulled the body tarp back, gently laying it on the woman's waist. He turned back and looked into her face, seeing her motionless but distinct features projecting through the gray-white pallor of death. Even now, in the primary stages of rigor mortis, she appeared beautiful and cultured, although void of any essence. He instinctively ran his index finger down her stiffening cheek and onto her neck, noticing that she still had some warmth in her body. He looked at his watch, shaking his head as he thought how violently she must have fought for the body to cool this gradually.

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