Her name was Vera Mae, and she had been around these dusty tank towns too long—working the two-bit rodeos and cozying up to suckers, like this fat tourist in the bar.
Oh God, she thought, I can con him and ditch him by nine-thirty, but what then? Sit in a hotel room. Get drunk and pass out. I'll be an old bag before I'm thirty.
That was Vera Mae: fed up and ripe for trouble, when a lean ex-bronc rider named Lonnie drifted in from the desert...
Jealousy and suspicion leads to murder, when a private detective steers a husband to his wife's secr
They were desperate men, ready to kill for a handful of dust...gold dust!
Based on the classic TV series, Richard Deming's novel DRAGNET presents new cases for Lieutenant Fri
He never should have gotten into it in the first place. But when you need money, sometimes you do th
The last of the great pulp fiction writers still plies his trade -- from a table at a flea market!
