THEY TELL ME I will die here. This place I do not know, this dark, dank, rancid dungeon, where nobody wishes me well and most speak languages I don’t understand—this is the place I will call home for the rest of my life. That’s what they tell me. It’s getting harder to disbelieve them.
There are people in here who want me dead, some for retribution but most to establish their own notoriety. It would be a sure path to celebrity to kill me or one of my friends, known collectively as the Monte Carlo Mistresses. That was the moniker that stuck in the international media. More imaginative than the earlier ones—the Gang of Four, the Bern Beauties, the Desperate Housewives. Less chilling, to me at least, than the one that ran on the front page of Le Monde the day after the verdict: Mamans Coupables. Guilty Moms.
So I wait. For a miracle. For newly discovered evidence. A confession from the real killer. A sympathetic ear to my appeal. Or simply for the morning when I wake up and discover this was all a dream. The last three hundred and ninety-eight mornings, I’ve opened my eyes and prayed that I was back in Bern, or, better yet, back in Georgetown, preparing to teach American literature to hungover underclassmen.
And I watch. I turn every corner widely and slowly. I sleep sitting up. I try to avoid any routine that would make my movements predictable, that would make me vulnerable. If they’re going to get to me in here, they’re going to have to earn it.
It started out as a day like any other. I walked down the narrow corridor of G wing. When I approached the block letters on the door’s glass window—INFIRMERIE—I stopped and made sure my toes lined up with the peeling red tape on the floor that served as a marker, a stop sign before entering.
“Bonjour,” I said to the guard at the station on the other side of the hydraulic door, a woman named Cecile. No last names. None of the prison staff was allowed to reveal anything more to the prisoners than their first names, and those were probably fake, too. The point was anonymity outside these walls: because of it, the inmates, once released, wouldn’t be able to hunt down the prison guards who hadn’t treated them so nicely.
“Hi, Abbie.” Always responding to me in her best English, which wasn’t bad. Better than my French. After a loud, echoing buzz, the door released with a hiss.
The prison infirmary was the length and width of an American gymnasium, but it had a lower ceiling, about eight feet high. It was mostly one open space filled with about two dozen beds. On one side was a long cage—the “reception” area—where inmates waited their turn to be treated. On another side, also closed off and secured, was a room containing medical supplies and pharmaceuticals.
Reprinted from the book GUILTY WIVES by James Patterson and David Ellis. Copyright © 2012 by James Patterson. Reprinted with permission of Little, Brown and Company, New York, N.Y. All rights reserved.
Only minutes after Abbie Elliot and her three best friends step off of a private helicopter, they enter the most luxurious, sumptuous, sensually pampering hotel they have ever been to. Their lavish presidential suite overlooks all of fabulous Monte Carlo, and it doesn’t take the women long to surrender: to the sun and pool, to the sashimi and sake, to the endless flow of Bruno Paillard champagne. For four days they are free to live a lifestyle reserved for the rich and famous. And as the weekend takes them into pulsating discos, opulent, high-stakes casinos and beyond, Abbie experiences the greatest pleasure and release she has ever known.
But in the morning’s harsh light, Abbie awakens on a magnificent private yacht, surrounded by police! Something awful has happened—something impossible, unthinkable. Abbie, Winnie, Serena and Bryah are arrested and accused of the foulest crime imaginable. And now the vacation of a lifetime becomes the fight of a lifetime—for survival. Guilty Wives is the ultimate indulgence, the kind of nonstop thrill ride of excess, friendship, betrayal and danger that could only come from #1 bestselling author James Patterson.
Hardcover Book : 416 pages
Publisher: Hachette Book Group, USA ( March 26, 2012 )
Item #: 13-492244
Product Dimensions: 5.5 x 8.25 x 0.94inches
Product Weight: 15.0 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
This book was sooooooooooo ecxiting...a real page turner!
I really liked this book!!
I really liked this book!! It would make an excellent movie.
Reviewer: Debbie R
for a first time with patterson i read a brief intro of the book and was looking so forward to read it.I was not disappointed i really did enjoy the book.What I really hate is people feel like they have to follow the review get over it if you dont like the book STOP READING HOW STUPID! I start a book give it a portion to prove itself if it doesnt i certainly wont make myself suffer thru it to finish it I mean really come on !
Reviewer: joni s
I love James Patterson's novels and have two full shelves of his books. However, this book was horrible! I like to be entertained when I read not horrified! I don't need to read about the pain and suffering these four women went through in a French prison. This book is terrible!
Reviewer: Beth H