By Don Winslow
Sometime pupil and ever-reluctant detective Neal Carey might otherwise be completing a lifeless doctoral thesis than staring down the nostril of a loaded gun-- yet his new task does not sound risky. All he is received to do is pull off the final word makeover: flip Polly Paget-- a gum-chewing, foul-mouthed, big-haried broad-- right into a ideal girl in time to testify in a rape case opposed to Jack Landis, head of the kinfolk Cable community and America's such a lot cherished family members guy. yet Polly isn't really cooperating, and everyone-- together with a former FBI agent, and an obsessive-compulsive hitman, the Mafia, a porn prince, and a slew of tabloid reporters-- is on her path turning Neal's "simple" task right into a lethal online game of duck-duck-goose.
In a hellish and hilarious escapade that takes him from the deserts of Nevada to the brilliant lighting fixtures of Las Vegas, and eventually to a hair-raising climax in a shoddily outfitted amusment park, Neal attempts to flee the mob's gigantic weapons whereas taking a slippery stroll up the world's greatest water slide.
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Extra resources for A Long Walk Up the Waterslide: A Neal Carey Mystery
Jack is no great shakes in the sack anyway, to tell you the truth,” Polly continued, “but who would be married to ‘Canned-Ice’—that’s what he used to call his wife. I mean, where would he get the practice, right? So he needed somebody, okay, and he was, like, nice to me? So every time he came to New York, we’d go back to my place and do it … and do it and do it and do it … but I got feeling bad about myself. I mean, this thing was going nowhere and there was his wife on the TV talking about how they had tried to have kids but couldn’t and I’m in bed with the guy watching this.
And the worn denim shirt hanging over faded blue jeans? The kid needed a decade check. “Sort of a disguise,” Neal mumbled. He was embarrassed. At first, the beard and hair were just that, a gesture toward disguising his identity, but then he came to like the look. Not even the look so much, he thought, but the feel: more laid-back, loosely wrapped, a nice change after he’d spent the first 27 years on his toes and wrapped tighter than the insides of a baseball. “I like it,” Karen said. She ran her fingers through his hair where it met his collar.
Don’t bet on it,” Sammy mumbled. “The wife walked out on me again, Sammy,” Arthur said. Sammy Black just stared out the door. ” answered Chick. ” Joey Foglio asked as he stood at the urinal. “Candice is the least of my worries,” Jack Landis called out from his stall. They were in the men’s room of Big Bob’s, one of Joey’s restaurants. Big Bob’s was a barbecue joint so basic, they didn’t even have plates. They just dumped slabs of meat on sheets of butcher paper and sent you out to the long picnic tables to gorge yourself.