Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2018
First published in the USA in 2018 by William Morrow, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
Copyright © Plot Line, Inc. 2018
Cover design by Dominic Forbes © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018
Cover photograph © Valentino Sani/Arcangel Images; Shutterstock.com (back)
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.
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Source ISBN: 9780008148898
Ebook Edition © August 2018 ISBN: 9780008148904
Version: 2018-08-09
To Jonathan
And to Lila, Oscar, Eva, Judah, Masha, and Zoe
—with love from Nana
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
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
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Keep Reading …
About the Author
Also by Faye Kellerman
About the Publisher
IT WAS A mob, but not yet a full-fledged riot. Over a dozen retirees, dressed in housecoats and robes, had taken to the streets, demanding action at eight in the morning. The call had come through twenty minutes earlier, just as Decker was knotting his blue tie, putting the finishing touches on his typical uniform: a dark suit over a white shirt. He skipped checking in at the station house, going immediately to the crime scene—seven smashed mailboxes, metal poles uprooted, letters and flyers strewn into the street.
White-haired Floyd Krasner led the charge. “It’s the third time in what … three months?”
“Less than that,” Annie Morris chimed in. She was in her seventies and wore a terry-cloth robe over floral pajamas. “Third time in two months. Not a good way to start the summer.”
“I’ll say,” Floyd added.
Janice Darwin tightened her own coral robe and added, “I didn’t give up my life in the city just to find crime here, you know.”
Decker wasn’t sure what city she was from. Not that it mattered. He smoothed his mustache—silver with hints to its once red color. It matched the hair on his head. “I know you’re frustrated—”
“Y’think?” Floyd blurted out.
Grumbling from the masses.
Decker looked at the old man—stoop shouldered with angry eyes. He and Floyd were around the same age. Decker had the advantage of a strong back and broad shoulders, although he suspected that gravity had shoved his spine down an inch or so. Still, he had plenty to spare, always the tallest kid in the crowd. People often asked if he had played basketball.
Nope. Too much weight and too slow.
He said, “Anyone hear anything last night? This much damage must have made noise.”
No response. That was expected, since half of them wore hearing aids that they took out at night. Decker’s eyes drifted upward to the roofline, then back at Floyd. “What happened to the CCTV camera that we installed on your property?”
Krasner bit his lip. “I took it down.”
“Why?” Decker asked.
A pause. “It was interfering with my gutter.”
“Floyd, I installed that myself.