By Patricia Cornwell
The recent Kay Scarpetta novel from the world's number 1 bestselling crime author.
Determined to determine what occurred to her former deputy leader, Jack Fielding, murdered six months previous, Kay Scarpetta travels to the Georgia criminal for ladies, the place an inmate has details not just on Fielding, but additionally on a string of grisly killings. The homicide of an Atlanta relations years in the past, a tender lady on loss of life row, and the inexplicable deaths of homeless humans as distant as California look unrelated. yet Scarpetta discovers connections that compel her to finish that what she proposal ended with Fielding's dying and an try on her personal existence is simply the start of whatever way more damaging: a terrifying terrain of conspiracy and capability terrorism on a global scale. and she or he is the one one that can cease it.
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Extra resources for Red Mist (Kay Scarpetta, Book 19)
The scent of nachos teased me. My fingers itched to pick up a ball, to send it flying down the lane. I loved bowling. I just hadn’t done it in weeks…because of him. Of Aaron. This was where we had our first date. Where we were supposed to be having a date. Right now. A sharp pang stabbed my heart and each thud was like a hammer against my chest. How had things gotten so messed up? Before we started dating—and even during—I used to think of him as Heart Stopper; I’d see his smile and my heart would give one solid thump and then poof, stop.
Are you getting a divorce? Are we becoming a statistic? ” My father let out a startled laugh, erasing the seriousness from his face for at least two full seconds. ” He quickly waved his hands. ” I let out a deep breath and sat back down, eyeing them warily. I wasn’t ready to relax just yet. The ‘nothing like that’ left a lot of ground uncovered. For instance, they could tell me I had been adopted or something. ” I asked. I shouldn’t have. As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew it’d been a mistake.
And then I burst into hysterics, laughing and crying at the same time. It was a silver necklace with a pendent. The pendent was…I couldn’t fathom the words. It was a small silver heart. Shooting through the heart was a single arrow, the tip made of a black stone. Onyx. My heart leaped and I wasn’t sure my ribs could contain it long. “I’m sorry,” I sobbed, the word bubbling out of nowhere. ” It was beautiful and ironic. And I didn’t deserve it. ” The words, spoken so softly, hit me like a lead fist and went straight through my chest to my heart.