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I’m Sam Horowitz. My wife Brandy and I are private eyes – and belly-up broke. This is why we agreed to trace Martin Whitlock, a hotshot banker who’d skipped town over $2,000,000 in laundered drug money. Not our usual sort of case, but even filthy mob lucre pays bills.
The trail led from a posh mansion to a hick burg called McInerney, Oregon – and to G.O.D. Inc: the geeks who hawk overpriced garbage on late night TV. That’s where we found our man…too often. There were three Mary Whitlocks, same prints. But one was female. One was dead. We got busted. That wasn’t the worst.
The mob rip-off was only one move in a caper to take over crime – not the Mafia but something bigger. A hell of lot bigger. Because McInerney, Oregon wasn’t just off the map…It was off the edge of the Earth.
And Brandy and I were being taken for a ride – into The Labyrinth of Dreams.
The trail led from a posh mansion to a hick burg called McInerney, Oregon – and to G.O.D. Inc: the geeks who hawk overpriced garbage on late night TV. That’s where we found our man…too often. There were three Mary Whitlocks, same prints. But one was female. One was dead. We got busted. That wasn’t the worst.
The mob rip-off was only one move in a caper to take over crime – not the Mafia but something bigger. A hell of lot bigger. Because McInerney, Oregon wasn’t just off the map…It was off the edge of the Earth.
And Brandy and I were being taken for a ride – into The Labyrinth of Dreams.
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