Claim of Innocence. Laura Caldwell

Claim of Innocence - Laura  Caldwell


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      Praise for Laura Caldwell’s IZZY MCNEIL novels

      Red, White & Dead

      “A sizzling roller coaster ride through the streets of Chicago, filled with murder, mystery, sex and heartbreak. These page-turners will have you breathless and panting for more.”

      —Shore Magazine

      “Chock full of suspense, Red, White & Dead is a riveting mystery of crime, love, and adventure at its best.”

      —New York Times bestselling author Gayle Lynds

      Red Blooded Murder

      “Smart dialogue, captivating images, realistic settings and sexy characters… The pieces of the puzzle come together to reveal the secrets between the sheets that lead Izzy to realize who the killer is.”

      —BookReporter.com

      “Red Blooded Murder aims for the sweet spot between tough and tender, between thrills and thought—and hits the bull’s-eye. A terrific novel.”

      —#1 New York Times bestselling author Lee Child

      “Izzy is the whole package: feminine and sexy, but also smart, tough and resourceful. She’s no damsel-in-distress from a tawdry bodice ripper; she’s more than a fitting match for any bad guys foolish enough to take her on.”

      —Chicago Sun-Times

      Red Hot Lies

      “Caldwell’s stylish, fast-paced writing grips you and won’t let you go.”

      —Edgar Award–winning author David Ellis

      “Told mainly from the heroine’s first-person point of view, this beautifully crafted and tightly written story is a fabulous read. It’s very difficult to put down—and the ending is terrific.”

      —RT Book Reviews

      “Former trial lawyer Caldwell launches a mystery series that weaves the emotional appeal of her chick-lit titles with the blinding speed of her thrillers… Readers will be left looking forward to another heart-pounding ride on Izzy’s silver Vespa.”

      —Publishers Weekly

      Claim Of Innocence

      Laura Caldwell

      

www.mirabooks.co.uk

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

      Chapter 23

      Chapter 24

      Chapter 25

      Chapter 26

      Chapter 27

      Chapter 28

      Chapter 29

      Chapter 30

      Chapter 31

      Chapter 32

      Chapter 33

      Chapter 34

      Chapter 35

      Chapter 36

      Chapter 37

      Chapter 38

      Chapter 39

      Chapter 40

      Chapter 41

      Chapter 42

      Chapter 43

      Chapter 44

      Chapter 45

      Chapter 46

      Chapter 47

      Chapter 48

      Chapter 49

      Chapter 50

      Chapter 51

      Chapter 52

      Chapter 53

      Chapter 54

      Chapter 55

      Chapter 56

      Chapter 57

      Chapter 58

      Chapter 59

      Chapter 60

      Chapter 61

      Chapter 62

      Chapter 63

      Chapter 64

      Chapter 65

      Chapter 66

      Chapter 67

      Chapter 68

      Chapter 69

      Chapter 70

      Chapter 71

      Chapter 72

      Chapter 73

      Chapter 74

      Chapter 75

      Chapter 76

      Chapter 77

      Chapter 78

      Chapter 79

      Chapter 80

      Chapter 81

      Chapter 82

      Chapter 83

      Acknowledgments

      1

       “I zzy,” my friend Maggie said, “I need you to try this murder case with me. Now.”

      “What?” I shifted my cell phone to my other ear, not sure I’d heard her right. I had never tried a criminal case before—not even a parking ticket, much less a murder trial.

      “Yeah,” she said. “Right now.”

      It was a hot August Thursday in Chicago, and I had just left the civil courthouse. I had taken three steps into the Daley Center Plaza, looked up at the massive Picasso sculpture—an odd copper thing that looked half bird, half dog—and I actually said to it, “I’m back.”

      I’d argued against a Motion to Dismiss for Maggie. She normally wouldn’t have filed a civil case, but she’d done so as a favor to a relative. I lost the motion, something that would have burned me in days of yore, but instead I was triumphant. Having been out of the law for nearly a year, I’d wondered if I had lost it—lost the ability to argue, to analyze information second-to-second, to change course and make it look like you’d planned it all along. I had worried that perhaps not going to court was like not having sex for a while. At first, you missed it deeply but then it became more difficult to remember what it was like with each passing day. Not that I was having that particular problem.

      But really, when I’d seen the burning sun glinting off the Picasso and I stated boldly that I was back in action, I meant it figuratively.


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