Wealthy San Francisco widow Irene Wilson convinces drunken writer Morgan O’Keefe to help clear her of the lingering suspicion that she murdered her husband, whom she mistook for a prowler and shot. She was his sole beneficiary…and gained not only his wealth, but a controlling interest in his business…so, naturally, everyone suspected it was no accident, even if it couldn’t be proven. It doesn’t help that she still lives in the same house… and has kept a scrapbook of newspaper clippings about the horrific incident. Is she a cold-hearted killer or another victim of tragic circumstances? Nothing can prepare Morgan for the shocking answer.
“Dixon can be compared to Jim Thompson.” Pornokitsch
H. Vernor Dixon /
Crime Fiction
