The youngest lawyer ever to grab the helm of Seattle's most prominent law firm, Gus Wheatley has found success–as well at money, power, and prestige. He thinks nothing can interfere with his meteoric rise to the top. Until his wife, Beth, vanishes.
Beth's disappearance coincides with a series of brutal murders the FBI dubs the "bookend killings." They think Beth isthe killer's latest victim... or his willing accomplice. But Gus knows his wife would never ally herself with a cold–blooded killer. The further he searches, however, the more he discovers that Beth isn't the woman he thought he knew.
Beth may be alive. She may or may not be innocent. She may have come up against evil far more reaching than a serial killer. And for Gus and his family, that evil is much too close to home.
The rain was a sign of good luck and happiness.
Andrea Henning had heard that old wives' tale at least thirty times today. She wondered. if Mr. Gallup had ever conducted a poll to find out -if couples who married on sunny days actually had higher divorce rates than those who waded through puddles on their way to the attar. Not that it really mattered. Rain on this wedding had been a virtual certainty. It was, after all, late winter in Seattle.
Andie -- no one called her "Andrea" -- wasn't bothered by the weather or any of the things a bride typically worried about. Maybe it was her training as an FBI agent, or maybe it was her innate common sense. Whenever something couldn't be controlled, Andie just dealt with it, and it usually worked out. Her crash diet had been a disaster, but the dress still fit perfectly. The best man was an idiot, yet he'd somehow remembered the marriage license. And the old candlelit church had never looked better. Bouquets of white roses with lace and pink ribbons adorned each pew. A long white runner stretched down the center aisle from the vestibule to the altar. The crowd was spread evenly, left side and right, soothed by a gentle harp as the last of four bridesmaids walked down the aisle. Rain or not, it was the wedding her mother had always told her to dream of.
Andie moved into the open double doorway in the rear of the church. The wedding consultant helped with the satin train behind her.
In front, the silver-haired minister waited at the altar, flanked on his right by bridesmaids dressed in red velvet dresses. To his left stood three young groomsmen and Andie's handsome husband-to-be. Rick looked nervous, even from a distance. His steely blue eyes glistened. They were almost glazed-probably from all the drinking his friends had inflicted on him last night. The rented tuxedo seemed a little tight for his chest and shoulders, but maybe he was just taking deep breaths. He would have been far more at ease in blue jeans. So would have Andie.
The sound of the harp faded away. The guests fell silent. All heads swiveled toward the back of the church.
Andie took her father's arm. Though a half foot shorter than her, he was a pillar of strength-normally. At the moment she could feel his hands trembling.
"Ready?" he asked.
She didn't reply. The time had come.
The pipe organ blared. Andie cringed. She had explicitly instructed the organist not to play the traditional "Here Comes the Bride." Her meddlesome mother had struck again.
Together, Andie and her father started down the aisle.
A camera flashed in her face, Then another. It was like staring into a strobe light. At this rate, she'd not only be filing a married couple's tax return this year, but she'd also have to mark yes in that little box that asks "Are you blind?" Andie focused on the burning candles on the altar as she continued down the aisle.
Friends and relatives beamed as she passed. They made her feel beautiful, though all of her life she'd been told she was beautiful. She resembled neither of her adoptive parents, of course. She had the prominent cheekbones and raven black hair of the American Indian mother she never knew. The deep green eyes were presumably from an Anglo father. The result was striking, an exotic ancestral mix. Halfway down the aisle, Andie slowed the pace. Her nervous father was walking way too fast. His hand was sweating in hers. She squeezed it, then released. Finally, they stopped before the minister, standing side by side. The loud organ ceased abruptly.
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. The minister raised his hands, then lowered them, instructing the crowd to sit. A quiet shuffle filled the church as two hundred guests lowered...
The first thing you need to know about James Grippando is that he is no longer clueless. This transformation occurred on June 14, 2005, when "A James Grippando Novel" was the clue to number 38 Across in the New York Times crossword puzzle. (The correct answer: Under Cover of Darkness.)Here are some other interesting things about James, most of which happened while, sadly, he was still clueless…James Grippando is the national bestselling author of sixteen novels that are enjoyed worldwide in twenty-six languages. His latest releases in the acclaimed series featuring Miami lawyer Jack Swyteck are Last Call (available now in paperback) and Born to Run (now in hardcover.) Intent to Kill, a stand-alone thriller, will be released in May 2009. James is also the author of Leapholes—a book written for young adults, which was a finalist for the Benjamin Franklin Award.James’s first job out of law school plunged him headlong into death penalty cases. That experience was an inspiration for his debut novel, The Pardon, a legal thriller that critics heralded as a “bona fide blockbuster.” Before The Pardon, James was a successful trial lawyer in Miami, and he is now Counsel to the law firm of Boies, Schiller & Flexner, LLP. As a lawyer, James was a frequent volunteer in the Miami-Dade County guardian ad litem program, where he represented neglected children in custody proceedings. As a writer, James lectures frequently to schoolchildren about his book Leapholes and about writing in general. He is an active participant in the “Kids Love a Mystery Program” sponsored by the Mystery Writers of America, and he was the 2005 recipient of the Distinguished Author Award from the University of Scranton. He serves on the Board of Trustees at St. Thomas Episcopal Parish Elementary School, where he takes aspiring young writers with him on research trips to fun places like crime labs. He is also coach of the soccer team. James lives in south Florida, where he writes beneath a big shade umbrella on his deck, right next to the hot tub and swimming pool. He is married to Tiffany, who holds a degree in English Literature major. They have three children and three cats, and they are looking for a dog.
