Debra Johnson

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“When people talk about Roarke’s cop over their cocktails and canapés, they say she’s a little scary, a little mean, and very relentless. Would that be a fair description?” “Close enough.” “Good. Good.” Deann held out her hand, took Eve’s firmly. “Because you’re my cop now, too.”
Debra Johnson
Wow. Cool.
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Visions in Death (In Death, #19)
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