"The Key West locale was so real I felt my hair frizz."-The Los Angeles Times For friendly, easygoing furniture salesman Al Tuschman, frizzy hair is the least of his problems. Before he'd left New Jersey for a week's vacation in Key West, he hadn't an enemy in the world. But a series of puzzling assaults on his privacy, his sanity, and his life has turned his stay at the tasteful Paradise Hotel into a tropical hell. Maybe it's just the humidity. Maybe the Sambuca. Or maybe it's the nickname emblazoned on his license plate: ...
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"The Key West locale was so real I felt my hair frizz."-The Los Angeles Times For friendly, easygoing furniture salesman Al Tuschman, frizzy hair is the least of his problems. Before he'd left New Jersey for a week's vacation in Key West, he hadn't an enemy in the world. But a series of puzzling assaults on his privacy, his sanity, and his life has turned his stay at the tasteful Paradise Hotel into a tropical hell. Maybe it's just the humidity. Maybe the Sambuca. Or maybe it's the nickname emblazoned on his license plate: Big Al. For Big Al Marracotta, Mafia capo, a Florida getaway means outrunning a career in crime and rancid calamari. For Katy Sansone it's a bid for sunshine and self-respect--until a case of mistaken identity pits the confused woman against a bafflement of Als and more danger than any one of them had reason to pack for. Now, if Tuschman doesn't watch his back, somebody's going to be reporting the death of another salesman. . . .
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