The Fixer

The Fixer

Joseph Finder

Language: English

Pages: 480

ISBN: 0451472578

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


New York Times bestselling author Joseph Finder's breakneck stand-alone thriller about the secrets families can keep—and the danger of their discovery.

When former investigative reporter Rick Hoffman loses his job, fiancée, and apartment, his only option is to move back into--and renovate--the home of his miserable youth, now empty and in decay since the stroke that put his father in a nursing home.

As Rick starts to pull apart the old house, he makes an electrifying discovery—millions of dollars hidden in the walls. It's enough money to completely transform Rick's life—and everything he thought he knew about his father. Yet the more of his father's hidden past that Rick brings to light, the more dangerous his present becomes. Soon, he finds himself on the run from deadly enemies desperate to keep the past buried, and only solving the mystery of his father—a man who has been unable to communicate, comprehend, or care for himself for almost 20 years—will save Rick...if he can survive long enough to do it.

Prometheus Bound

Les Corps conducteurs

Glengarry Glen Ross

Prometheus Bound

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Hey, you only live once.” “That’s like . . . four thousand dollars!” He shrugged. Like it was nothing. A pittance, a bagatelle. He felt more than a little uncomfortable about it. She gave him a sidelong glance. “Did you just rob a bank? Or does journalism pay better than I thought?” “And they say print is dead,” Rick said, smiling. “I hope this is on Back Bay magazine’s expense account. Oh, wait, you said you moved on. Who are you working for now?” “I’ve got a number

technology, like Len and Joan. Maybe, just maybe, these files would solve the mystery of where all that money had come from. 16 The city of Boston kept all of its old records in a large, bunkerlike building in a remote part of the city called West Roxbury. Back in the day, when Rick had been an investigative reporter for The Boston Globe, he’d had occasion to drive out to the City Archives. It was a giant warehouse that wasn’t open to the public. You didn’t just show up; you had to

pair of shears. “Bilateral symmetrical breath sounds.” Her voice was low and husky. A new voice now. Male. “On the monitor—BP 108 over 64, pulse 118, sats 92 percent.” “Good peripheral pulses all around,” said another voice. “Show me a thumbs-up,” said the woman. “Give me a squeeze. . . .” Rick tried to squeeze her finger, which she’d put in his left hand, but just moving it was ungodly painful. “He’s not following commands. Sir, can you wiggle your toes?” Rick obediently

give me a hand?” He reached out his left hand, then remembered and put out his right. She pulled, and he groaned as he got to his feet, his broken clavicle shimmering with pain. He sat on the edge of the bed next to her. “How’d it go with the big funder?” “Could not have gone better. I think they’re going to come through big-time. It’s going to let us hire a bunch of new tutors and get iPads for all the kids, and . . . Hey, thanks for being so sweet to Evan.” “No problem. Seems like a

had won the Battle of Gettysburg, you think we’d be celebrating Lincoln’s birthday? Every event can be made to mean a dozen different things. But the ultimate reality is determined by the victor. Call it the reality principle. Your father—he had a healthy goddamned sense of reality. Shame you never learned anything from him.” Rick closed his notebook. “Thanks for your time.” He got to his feet and went to the door. “You know what your trouble is?” Pappas called out. “You never learned

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