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Jesus Christ Is Dead [An Astounding Adventure of Crip and Henrietta] [MultiFormat]
eBook by Tim Wohlforth
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eBook Category: Mystery/Crime Best American Mysteries Distinguished Award Winner
eBook Description: "Jesus Christ is dead!" green-haired Henrietta screams into the phone. Paraplegic PI Tom Bateman wheels over to her apartment to find his dysfunctional sometime partner standing on her porch, dripping in blood, surrounded by cops, with the body of a street preacher at her feet. Henrietta is capable of almost anything, but murder is a bit over the top. He seeks the real killer following a trail that leads him to the Blood of the Lamb Tabernacle and then back to his early days as an antiwar Vietnam vet.
eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: Plots With Guns, 2004
Fictionwise Release Date: March 2005
This eBook is part of the following series:
Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [246 KB], eReader (PDB) [35 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [22 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [21 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [80 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [92 KB], hiebook (KML) [61 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [50 KB], iSilo (PDB) [18 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [23 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [51 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [33 KB]
Words: 6407 Reading time: 18-25 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

"Jesus Christ is dead!" It was the voice of Henrietta on the phone. There is not much I can say in defense of Henrietta. She is thoughtless, sometimes to the point of being cruel, never pays the least attention to the truth, breaks every rule of healthy living from smoking through junk food and drugs, enjoys insulting me, has no sense of humor, and dresses like a freak preparing for a drug overdose. But I have never known her to be a religious zealot. "He's been dead for almost 2,000 years. Next you will tell me that the Jews killed him!" "I mean he's really dead, Crip." She always calls me Crip. Part of her tact. "My friend, Jesus Christ. On my front porch! His blood's all over me. The cops think I did it." "Did you?" I'd never put anything past Henrietta, but murder was a bit outside her league.
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