The Voodoo Murders
by Mike Avallone
Death danced beside her
Back cover: The hand was quicker than the eye. Steel gleamed in his fingers magically and a lightning bolt left his brown hands. It flashed across twenty feet and pinned my sleeve to the wall, knocking the gun out of my hand.
"Mon," he breathed in that Jamaican-English voice you hear on a Calypso record, "maybe I make you stone-cold dead." I said nothing. With death that close, what was there to say?
Gold Medal 703