By Amanda Cross
Whilst appealing Janet Harrison asks English professor Kate Fansler to suggest a big apple psychoanalyst, Kate instantly sends the lady to her pricey good friend and previous lover, Dr. Emanuel Bauer. Seven weeks later, the lady is stabbed to demise on Emanuel's couch--with incriminating fingerprints at the homicide weapon. To Kate, the assumption of her fantastic buddy killing someone is preposterous, yet proving it kind of feels an most unlikely activity. For Janet had no pals, no lover, no relations. Why, then, may still a person think pressured to kill her? Kate's analytic options go away no stone unturned--not even the single below which a venomous killer once more lies coiled and able to strike. . . .
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Extra info for In the Last Analysis (Kate Fansler, Book 1)
Detective Rea was a tall, good-looking guy with reddish blond hair and ears just a little too big for his head. He reminded me of Joey Ross, a kid I went to elementary school with. Joey was a world-class wiseass, always challenging the teachers and acting like he knew all the answers. And the irritating thing about Joey was that he really did know all the answers. He was a smart guy, and he never let you forget it. Detective Rea looked just like Joey during a pop quiz. “Have a seat, Ms. ” He gestured to a chair that had clearly been around since Los Angeles belonged to the Spaniards.
A handsome guy in a black turtleneck sweater and wire-rimmed glasses waved from his table. Unfortunately, he wasn’t waving at me, but at the stunning redhead behind me. I headed over to where Kandi was sitting, waiting for me. Kandi Tobolowski is an ex-New Yorker with enviably straight hair and a great sense of humor (which comes in handy when you’re saddled with a name like Kandi Tobolowsky). I guess you could say Kandi is my best friend. We met five years ago at a UCLA screenwriting class. ) and was looking for a way to stretch my creative muscles.
That’s okay,” I said, ushering him inside. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. ” No, I’m not a prostitute. I’m a writer, which in Los Angeles is often the same thing. My name is Jaine Austen (my mother is an Anglophile, and a bad speller), and I run a writing service out of my apartment called This Pen for Hire. Catchy, isn’t it? ” I write resumes. Letters. Brochures. And Personals ads. Lots of Personals ads. Maybe you’ve read my latest? ” I don’t usually greet clients in a kimono, but Howard Murdoch was a full hour early for his appointment.