Blood Wine

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John Moss. Blood Wine

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Acknowledgements

More Quin and Morgan Mysteries

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Morning Light

When Miranda Quin woke up after sleeping alone, her mind often swarmed with languorous images. She would lie very still, hoping they’d gather into coherent memories, which they seldom did. On the rare occasions when she was not by herself, residual images would dissolve into gnawing sensations of dread or confusion, or, more infrequently, into feelings of comfort and warmth. But on this particular morning, there was nothing. It was still dark. She was drenched in sweat and lying close to the edge of the bed, with an arm draped over the side to counter being drawn into the centre. She stretched carefully and tried to differentiate one part of her body from another. She suspected she had had a bad night, but there was no rush of anxiety, there were no symptoms of excess. Just clammy flesh and a void deep inside.

.....

“Him,” he said, nodding in the direction of a gaunt young man Morgan had never seen before.

Spivak’s last partner was killed in a car accident; a woman, a rookie, a high-speed chase. A lot of bad publicity, no liability. She was driving.

.....