A Persian Gem by Jeff Isaacson

A Persian

A Persian Gem by Jeff Isaacson : A Sinister Span Mystery (Sinister Span Mysteries Book 2)
English | 2019 | Mystery/Thriller | ePUB |243 Kb

A Persian : A woman jumps from the bridge connecting Fort Myers and Sanibel, Florida. Stunned onlookers watch her plummet seemingly halfway to the rough Gulf waters below in a second. Then, remarkably, her body appears to snap back. A bright, yellow and orange explosion of fabric erupts into a parachute behind her. She glides out onto a passing Chinese ship below and hitches a ride out into the distance. Anjali, a woman fascinated with bridges and suicides, happens to be on vacation just a few miles away. She is immediately intrigued by this strange BASE jumper. With Sanibel’s rumored connection to old spooks from around the globe, everyone suspects that the jump was a part of some covert operation, including Anjali. So she decides to pretend to be a journalist again to indulge her morbid curiosity. Her investigation brings Anjali, and her best male friend, Thad, face to face with a racist victim, a drug smuggler, and a former state department employee with a secret. Eventually, Anjali and Thad are forced to confront the very real possibility that the villain in all of this international intrigue may be right under their nose in the very seaside mansion they are guests in.

“I have to say that I am totally jealous of Thad. He showed me a picture of Farhad, and the man was a total Iranian-American silver fox. Oh, and he also started his own billion dollar software company.

I hate to admit it, but I looked at Thad’s pale, short, round, hairless little body and wondered what Farhad had ever seen in Thad. And it was almost as if Thad could read my mind. Because he pulled the phone that he had been showing me Farhad’s picture on back toward himself and began to swipe on it over and over again.

“You’re probably looking at me and wondering how I ever landed a catch like that,” Thad said.

I said nothing.

“But here’s a picture of us together back when we were an item,” Thad showed me his phone again.

I looked. If Thad hadn’t told me that he was showing me a picture of himself, I never would’ve guessed. He was thin and muscular in the photo. (He’s still muscular today, but that just makes him look even rounder.) He had a full head of hair. He almost looked like Twin Cities weatherman Sven Sundgaard, a cute, little buff dude.

“You never know how time is going to treat you. Some of us end up looking like a fat adult baby. And some of us end up as ageless, Persian sex gods,” Thad declared.

And we were there because of that ageless, Persian sex god. He had hired Thad to put a new floor in the ballroom. (Yes, there’s a full ballroom here too.) That new floor will host the dance for the wedding of Farhad and his fellow Iranian American groom at the end of our vacation in about a week and a half.”




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