By Leah Giarratano
Detective Jackson is engaged in a deadly sting operation in a taut, suspenseful learn from one among Australia's new breed of crime writers Working undercover in Sydney's murky drug international, residing in a run-down condominium, and making not going pals, Detective Sergeant Jill Jackson sees firsthand what devastation unlawful medicinal drugs can yield. Jill's sister Cassie has a brand new boyfriend, and prefer her, he's one of many appealing humans of Sydney—rich, goodlooking, nice task, nice automobile, and noticeable in all of the correct places. A high-flying legal professional who's doing seasoned bono paintings to maintain a drug broker out of penal complex, he's additionally retaining Cassie provided with cocaine and crystal meth. whilst Cassie overdoses and is dumped on the health center, her existence starts to spiral uncontrolled. Seren Templeton is simply out of jail—kept clear of her son for 2 years for anything she did not do. And now she is able to get her revenge at the guy liable. issues begin to move awry whilst those worlds collide and Jill and Cassie meet on contrary facets of the legislations.
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Extra resources for Black Ice (Detective Jill Jackson Mysteries)
She asked. 'Actually,' said Jill, 'Last asked me to do it. ' Helen gave a short laugh. 'You thought you might as well? ' Jill shrugged. 'You'd been working on that home invasion case last year. What did they call the killer – Cutter? ' 'Not really. Blowback. My partner shot the offender. ' 'Your partner,' Levine glanced down at her notes, 'Gabriel Delahunt. A federal agent. ' 'I don't have much contact with anyone at the moment,' said Jill. 'Oh, of course. Obviously,' said Levine. She read a little more.
I'm in private practice,' said Helen, 'but I should tell you straight up that this isn't your regular counselling session. ' Jill curled her feet up onto the chair and wrapped her arms around her knees. She was under constant scrutiny out on the streets, and in here, where she was supposed to be safe, she felt under siege again. 'Whatever . . You're going to report everything I say anyway,' she said, resigned. 'Let's get going, then,' said Levine. She fussed briefly with a voice recorder on the desk and then came back to her chair.
The driver looked pretty young, too. With the driver's face angled down slightly, his hair hid his eyes a little. His lips moved, like maybe he was speaking on a hands-free. Heterosexual, privileged and intelligent, even Jeremiah Dylan was not spared the adolescent drive to admire and desire the more attractive members of the species. The man in the Audi brushed his hair from his eyes and Jeremiah gave a low whistle. 'Hey, Mum,' he said. 'Isn't that Christian Worthington? ' Judita Dylan glanced to her left and smiled; she fluttered her fingers at the man at the wheel of the car next to them.