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PROLOGUE

The Daily Post

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CHAPTER ONE

SAM COOPER’S STOMACH gru his favorite hot dog stand fro press conference, where the -awaited wrap-up of a string of apartital recorder in one pocket and cash in another

The aro “Hey, Dom How’s business today?” he asked the owner

“Can’t coain during the commute” The older man, tanned fro Coop’s belated lunch “The usual?”

Coop nodded “The works Actually make it two I haven’t eaten since breakfast”

He glanced at his watch Nearly 3:00 pet his story in before heading home for the day

While Do theust day like this one, few people wandered around outside The s for the ritzy Hamptons or the Jersey Shore Others holed up inside, with their AC blasting

Coop’s favorite hot dog stand was located on the corner of 47th Street and Park Avenue A people watcher by nature—part of what led him to become a reporter, he supposed—Coop always studied the stores and buildings in the vicinity, and the people entering and exiting each

As usual, the Vintage Jewelers caught his eye Unlike most of the upscale stores in the area, it was rather ordinary As if to coaudy, elaborate pieces almost daily Usually only wo surprise—but today aa sweatshirt, hood over his head, stood inside

“Strange,” Coopin his shirt and the stea off the sidewalk blistered the soles of his shoes

“Dogs are ready,” Do Coop’s attention

But not before Coop caught sight of what looked like a gun in the man’s hand Coop’s adrenaline kicked in and he focused on the store There were two feuy shooting someone

Inside the store, the man turned to leave

Coop glanced at Dorabbed the metal lid off the cart and swerved back to face the store