Leah Hunter is twenty-five and single by choice. Which is not to say that she doesn't like men. They're all right, in their place. But when a handsome stranger falls dead in her arms outside a Yorkshire art gallery, she feels the time has come to take more of an interest.
As a tax inspector, she has legitimate access to the dead man's file, and it soon becomes uncomfortably clear that somebody thinks she knows more than she should. In quick succession, someone breaks into her flat, her car is burnt out in its garage, and she is nearly run down by a black-helmeted motorcycle rider, making her hometown an extremely unpleasant place to be.
Unsatisfied with the dangerously slow progress of the official investigation, Leah begins an investigation of her own, and once she has the bit between her teeth, a flirtatiously uncommunicative police sergeant and a growing sense of urgency only add challenge to the case.
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