Prayers for the Dead. Faye Kellerman. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Faye Kellerman
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Полицейские детективы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780008293550
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      Prayers for the Dead

      Faye Kellerman

Image Missing

       Copyright

      Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

      1 London Bridge Street

      London SE1 9GF

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      First published in the United States by William Morrow, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers, 1996

      This ebook edition published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2019

      Copyright © Faye Kellerman 1996

      Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018

      Cover photography © Shutterstock.com

      Faye Kellerman asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

      A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

      This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

      Ebook Edition © March 2019 ISBN: 9780008293550

      Version: 2018-12-08

       Dedication

       To Jonathan for a quarter century

       of love, laughter, and just plain fun

       To Jesse, Rachel, Ilana, and Aliza,

       the keys to my heart—

       thanks for putting it all in perspective

       To Mom, my lifelong friend—love ya, kid

       And to Rita—for all the inappropriate giggles

       Special thanks to

       Dr. Isaac Weiner

       Dr. Hillel Laks

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

      Copyright

      Dedication

      Prologue

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

       Chapter 9

       Chapter 10

       Chapter 11

       Chapter 12

       Chapter 13

       Chapter 14

       Chapter 15

       Chapter 16

       Chapter 17

       Chapter 18

       Chapter 19

       Chapter 20

       Chapter 21

       Chapter 22

       Chapter 23

       Chapter 24

       Chapter 25

       Chapter 26

       Chapter 27

       Chapter 28

       Chapter 29

       Chapter 30

       Chapter 31

       Chapter 32

       Chapter 33

       Keep Reading

       About the Author

       Faye Kellerman booklist

       About the Publisher

      Image Missing Prologue

      “This is a team effort, Grace. You know that.”

       Even through morphine-laden stupor, Grace knew that. From her hospital bed, she looked up at her doctor’s face—a study in strength. Good, solid features. A well-boned forehead, Roman nose and a pronounced chin, midnight blue eyes that burned fire, tar-black hair streaked with silver. His expression, though grave, was completely self-assured. Someone who knew what he wanted and expected to get it. Truth be told, the man looked downright arrogant.

      Which was exactly the kind of doctor Grace had wanted. What she hadn’t wanted was some young stud like Ben Casey or an old fart like Marcus Welby with the crinkly eyes and the patient, understanding smile. She had wanted someone bursting with ego. Someone whose superiority was touted, worn with pride like Tiffany jewelry. A self-possession that spoke: Of course the operation is going to be successful. Because I always succeed.

       Because getting a new heart was serious business.

      Grace Armstrong had to have the best and the brightest. Had the luxury to afford the best and the brightest. And in Dr. Azor Moses Sparks, she had gotten numero uno.

       Dope was winning the battle of wits with Grace’s brain. Sparks’s face had lost clarity, sat behind a curtain of haze, his features becoming blurry except for the eyes. They peered through the muck like high-beam headlights. She wanted to go to sleep. But Sparks’s presence told her she wasn’t permitted to do that … not just yet.

       He spoke in authoritative, stentorian tones. The sounds bounced around Grace’s brain, words reverberating as if uttered through a malfunctioning PA system. Doctor’s voice …

      “… what we have here, Grace. A team comprised of me: the primary surgeon; you: the patient; and my staff—the other fine surgeons and nurses who’ll assist me in this procedure.”

      Grace