As a Private Detective, James “Don’t Call Me Corky” Corcoran
has a lot in common with his adoptive hometown of Detroit. The past is brighter
than the present; he’s going nowhere fast, and he’s running out of money. But
things change when he starts to investigate Jonathan Wade’s death. A childhood
friend and longtime rival, Wade was the black sheep son of one of the oldest
and wealthiest families who called the exclusive suburb of Grosse Pointe home.
Each clue in the case dredges up yet another memory Corcoran has spent the past
decade trying to drink into oblivion. It takes him back to Grosse Pointe, where
he hasn’t set foot for the past ten years, ever since Sara Jensen’s death sent
his career into a tailspin.
Grosse Pointe looks the same, its quiet streets still lined
with majestic homes, but behind those facades things aren’t as they seem. Some
of the best and the brightest families are hiding some secrets so dark, so
destructive, that they are willing to do anything to keep them hidden. They try
to buy him off, scare him off, and even try to kill him to keep Corcoran from
discovering the truth, but as time goes by he realizes he can’t quit because
this case has become his road to justice, redemption, and even love.
He’ll solve this case, or die trying.
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*****
Just have to say, I loved this one. Reminds of of the old fashioned noir thrillers.
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