By Iris Johansen
Eve Duncan has became down the activity two times already. Her ability and devotion in settling on homicide sufferers and assisting carry their killers to justice could be world-renowned. yet Eve works completely for legislation enforcement and the households of the blameless, and the fellow at the different finish of the telephone is many things—none of them law-abiding or innocent.
One of the world’s so much sought after males, little is basically identified approximately Luis Montalvo other than that he's terribly risky and that he by no means takes no for a solution. Now he wishes Eve’s assist in the worst method. For he believes they've got whatever in common—and he’s approximately to turn out it with a grisly warning.
Eve will depart every little thing and everybody at the back of, even the guy she trusts and loves the main, Atlanta detective Joe Quinn, to trip to Montalvo’s sumptuous armed compound within the Colombian jungle to spot the cranium he has recovered. She has agreed to this devil’s discount to avoid wasting an blameless family members, but in addition for a cause she can’t admit to Joe, to the CIA, to someone. For the guy within the jungle has promised so as to supply Eve what she wishes such a lot of all—the key to unlocking the darkest and so much painful secret of her past.
But Eve is in additional hazard than she will be able to think. As she will get toward selecting the cranium, she reveals herself stuck among ruthless killers with out manner out. Now, with every little thing at the line, Eve Duncan needs to take advantage of chilling selection of all. And if she’s wrong…she’s dead.
From the Hardcover edition.
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Extra info for Stalemate (Eve Duncan Series, Book 7)
My knowledge of the Civil War was sketchy, but I guessed it might have been Marston Moor. I added the latest waking dream to my notebook, still in a trance. The doctor was a dowsing rod, maybe, a channel for me to make contact with the boy. Alison’s curiosity about my trade was strong enough to provide an excuse for an excursion. I offered to take her out on a necessary but non-urgent trip to examine a couple of sites on behalf of the Bury St Edmunds amateur archaeology group. It was unpaid, so I’d been putting it off, and they were probably despairing of their chances of ever getting on Time Team.
I’d never got around to redecorating; I’d always felt I was camping out in that house. So I led Alison out to my shed, to give her an idea of my own taste. Alison’s eyes widened with pleasure when she saw my woodworking tools arrayed along one wall, and the chessboard hanging among them. “Joe, that’s marvellous,” she said. ” I nodded. The pieces were tucked away in a box, and I hesitated to bring them out. Instead I switched on the light boxes, to show off the bottles gleaming in their many hues around the other two walls.
What we probably have here is an older burial, could be Bronze Age, there may be pottery goods. ” “Ah, bones now, that’s a moot point. ” I considered this, looking at my hands. “It’s different. But there will be a dominant one, usually the metal if there’s any there; that’ll be the one I sense, and anything less definite like glass will be like a whiff of another scent that you can’t quite place. ” We moved on to another nearby site, on the same hilltop but in another field. I knew from the definite twitch of the rods that there was more than just disturbed earth below the flat surface.