Bad Blood: a Virgil Flowers novel by John Sandford

By John Sandford

The fourth exciting novel in number 1 New York Times bestselling writer John Sandford's Virgil flora series.

Two our bodies in days. One is homicide. the opposite is suicide. Virgil flora by no means imagined that learning the relationship may lead him into the perverse background of the Minnesota farm neighborhood, and virtually unbelievable darkness.

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Sample text

So you had him,” Virgil said. “Oh, yeah. He did it. Wouldn’t say why,” Coakley said. “He said he would talk, but only to one guy—a newspaper reporter. A gay newspaper reporter. I’m not sure if the gay part is important, but Bobby was a big jock, got a full ride over at Marshall starting next fall, could have slept with half the girls in town, but you didn’t hear about that. ” “Don’t know,” Coakley said. “But it was an odd request. His father said Bobby didn’t have any particular relationship with the reporter, except that he’d been interviewed for newspaper stories a few times.

He’d gone to a couple more funerals when he was a kid, but he could hardly remember them. But this guy was dead. ” He knew what it meant, but it didn’t apply to Flood. Tripp bent over, grabbed the farmer by the feet, and dragged him off the grate. Watched him for another moment, thought, Shit, if he’s not dead, he’s Lazarus. He called 911 from the old Western Electric dial phone in the office. He’d been frightened by the killing, by even the thought of the killing, and he’d known that he would be, and he’d known there’d be a use for his fear and anguish: he let it spill out when the cop answered.

That done, he drove on into town, to the sheriff’s office. Her office was in an eighties-era yellow brick building built behind an older, mid-century courthouse. The office included working space for the worn deputies, a comm center, and a jail. COAKLEY WAS WAITING, with two deputies, big men in their thirties, both weathered, square-jawed Germans, one in civilian clothes, the other in a sheriff’s uniform. “Agent Flowers,” Coakley said, “I’ve got your warrant. ” “Nobody ever does,” Virgil said.

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