Pamela Shropshire

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the rattrap she was currently stuck with driving vibrated like gelatin in the wake of the speeding wagon. “I want you to call Requisitions the minute we get back to Central. Beg, bribe, threaten, offer sexual favors of any nature, but get us a decent ride by the end of shift.” Peabody had her teeth clenched and did her best to speak through them. “Who’s going to perform the sexual favors, should it come to that?” “You, Detective. I outrank you.”
Visions in Death (In Death, #19)
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