They were having the special, wings and tuna wontons, in a window booth at Lou the Greek’s, two guys in their early for¬ties, talking over the lunchtime noise.
The good-looking one, Wyatt Hunt, said, “Gina and me, we’re both reluctant to commit.”
“Reluctant,” Devin Juhle said. “I like that.” He was a San Francisco homicide cop, and relationship issues, even those in his own life, weren’t his main concern. He’d been with Connie for fourteen years and didn’t think about that stuff too often. They just worked, had their three kids, did their jobs. Loved each other. Committed.
Juhle picked up a wing, held it out between them. “What is on this thing?”
“No, Kemo Sabe. What spice?”
“Peanut butter, I think,” Hunt said. “And garlic and cayenne and probably soy sauce. Pretty good, huh?”
Juhle nodded. “For Lou’s.” He took a bite and chewed. “So you guys are done?”
“Pretty much, I’d say.”
“I can’t say it breaks my heart, you know.”
“Yeah, well, you and she had kind of a different thing.”
“She’s a ball-buster.”
“Not to me.”
Gina Roake, the woman in question, was a lawyer a few years older than Hunt who’d had occasion to fillet Juhle on the witness stand in a murder trial a while ago. It hadn’t been his finest moment.
“I don’t want to hear any trash talk about her, Dev. We had a good run and she and I are still going to be friends, okay?”
Juhle shrugged. “It’s your life.”
Hunt nodded. “Damn straight.”
But they weren’t there to talk about Hunt’s love life. This was a job interview.
And Juhle was holding up his hand. “Before you get too far, Wyatt. I appreciate the offer, I really do. I’m surprised and flattered, honest. But I don’t see how I could.”
“You reach your hand out over the table, we shake on it, the deal’s done.”
Juhle shook his head. “Connie would kill me.”
“Connie wouldn’t even maim you. She wouldn’t care if you changed jobs. You could push a hot dog cart and she’d dance ahead of it, hawking sales in her cheerleader outfit.”
Juhle nodded in acknowledgment. “Well, okay, so maybe not Connie. But there are other reasons. My retirement, for example. Health insurance. Being in homicide, which puts me at the top of the food chain. Besides which, I actually like what I do.”
“Yeah, but the bureaucracy, the union stuff, all the rules…”
“Hey, rules are my life. I love the rules. Why do you think I be¬came a cop? I’m a rule guy.”
“That’s what Ivan said, too.” This was Ivan Orloff, one of Hunt’s new hires. “And guess what? That whole rule-guy thing—it turns out, not so much. He loves the freedom of being on his own, plus he turns out to be an amazing investigator, which he didn’t even know until he stopped being a cop. Now he sees stuff even I miss on the first pass. Not to mention we get along great together, which I’m hoping might even happen with you. Although that’s a bit more of a long shot.”
“And getting longer every minute.”
Hunt leaned back and crossed his arms. “Twenty-five percent.”
Another head shake. “It’s not the money.
Copyright © 2012 by The Lescroart Corporation
Raised by loving adoptive parents, San Francisco private investigator Wyatt Hunt never had an interest in finding his birth family—until he got a chilling text message from an unknown number: “How did ur mother die?”
The answer is murder and, urged on by curiosity and the mysterious texter, Hunt takes on a case that has lain unsolved for decades. His family's dark past unfurls in dead ends. Child Protective Services, who suspected but could never prove that Hunt was being neglected, is uninformed; his birth father, twice tried but never convicted of the murder, is in hiding; Evie, his mother's drug-addicted religious fanatic of a friend, is untraceable. And who is the texter, and what is the connection to Hunt?
Time is running out. The texter, who insists the killer is out there, refuses to be identified. The cat-and-mouse game leads Hunt across the country and eventually to places far more exotic—and far more dangerous. As the chase escalates, so does the threat, for the killer has a secret best kept buried in a grave.
Thriller master John Lescroart weaves a shocking, suspenseful tale about the skeletons inside family closets and the mortal danger outside the front door.
Hardcover Book : 400 pages
Publisher: Dutton, Div. of Penguin Putnam ( January 03, 2012 )
Item #: 13-488483
Product Dimensions: 5.5 x 8.25 x 0.875inches
Product Weight: 14.0 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
I usually like Lescroart's novels, but this is a disappointment. I thought I would never finish it, and when I did I thought "who cares". I thought it was a real bore and I'm not rushing to buy his next book.
This is one of Mr. LesCroart's best novels yet. It grabs one's attention immediately and never lets go. It is very intricately plotted and deeply emotional. Everyone should read this book!
John Lescroart has never disappointed me. This was no exception. I liked the twists and turns. He's not afraid to kill off characters we're used to reading about. His novels are always on my must read list..
Reviewer: Janice B
Perhaps not as fast pacedas previous Hunt novels, but not bad - However, did/nt keep me up at nite to continue reading.
Reviewer: Harriette S
I have read all of John Lescroart's novels and enjoyed this one as much as the other. I thought that the pace was fine and agree that it was impossible to put down.