By Lisa Gardner
From New York Times bestseller Lisa Gardner, writer of Alone and The Killing Hour, comes a mystery that is going from heartbreaking to heartstopping within the blink of an eye.…
When an individual you like vanishes with no hint, how some distance might you visit get them back?
For ex-FBI profiler Pierce Quincy, it’s the start of his worst nightmare: a vehicle deserted on a desolate stretch of Oregon road, engine working, handbag at the driver’s seat. And his estranged spouse, Rainie Conner, long gone, leaving no clue to her fate.
Did one of many ghosts from Rainie’s afflicted prior ultimately meet up with her? Or may her disappearance be the results of one of many instances they’d been working–a really vicious double murder or the potential abuse of a deeply disturbed baby Rainie took too just about center? along with his daughter, FBI agent Kimberly Quincy, Pierce is combating the neighborhood professionals, racing opposed to time, and frantically looking for solutions to the entire questions he’s been afraid to ask.
One guy understands what occurred that evening. Adopting the alias of a killer stuck 80 years earlier than, he has already contacted the click. His phrases are transparent: he desires cash, he wishes strength, he desires superstar. And if he doesn’t get what he desires, Rainie could be long past for good.
Sometimes, irrespective of how a lot you're keen on somebody, it’s nonetheless no longer enough.
As the clock winds down on a terrifying time limit, Pierce plunges headlong into the main determined hunt of his existence, into the shattering look for a killer, a deadly fact, and for the affection of his lifestyles, who may perhaps endlessly be…gone.
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Epub ISBN: 978-0-553-90523-6
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Additional info for Gone (Quincy & Rainie, Book 5)
He had been a good cop once. There was a small hole in the center of a splotch of blood on the bed, at about shoulder level if the victim’s head had been on the pillow. “Rusty was first, I guess,” Hardy said. “He was sleeping, maybe. Lying down. ” Glitsky jammed his hands further into his pockets. “What the hell are you talking about? ” Hardy let out a breath. “Ingraham. Rusty Ingraham. He lives, lived here. ” Glitsky was looking somewhere over Hardy’s shoulder, not focusing, putting it together.
Drysdale’s answer, now famous in the lore of the city, was “If they could do the job, I’d hire chimpanzees. ” Of course, the media played this to mean that Drysdale thought women, gays, and other minorities of all stripes were worthless. He had followed his aphorism with the more balanced statement that some jobs-airline pilot, brain surgeon, prosecuting attorney-ought to be filled by qualified candidates, not by quota, but San Francisco reporters know news when they hear it, and calling chimpanzees smarter than minorities was good copy, even if that wasn’t what he said, much less meant.
Had been forced to drop charges on him twice for murder and four times for rape. He was good at not leaving evidence, or at making witnesses reluctant to testify. The one time Baker went to trial for attempted murder and mayhem on a man who had talked too long to his girlfriend in a 7-Eleven, the man had finally refused to identify him when the crunch came. He got all the way to the stand, then looked at Baker at the defendant’s table and evidently decided that if he pointed the finger at him, he would not live to see his grandchildren.