NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER
Troy Turner and Rand Duchay were barely teenagers when they murdered a younger child. While Troy died violently behind bars, the hulking, slow-witted Rand managed to survive his stretch. Now, at age twenty-one, he’s emerged a haunted, rootless man with a pressing need: to talk—once again—with psychologist Alex Delaware. But when Rand’s life comes to a brutal end, his words die with him.
LAPD homicide detective Milo Sturgis suspects that either karma or revenge caught up with Rand, but Delaware’s suspicions run darker. As Delaware and Sturgis retrace their steps through a grisly murder case that devastated a community, they discover madness, suicide, and even uglier truths waiting to be unearthed. And the nearer they come to understanding an unspeakable crime, the more harrowingly close they get to unmasking a monster hiding in plain sight.
BONUS: This edition contains an excerpt from Jonathan Kellerman's Guilt.
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|Title of Suspense & Thrillers eBook: Rage||Series: Alex Delaware, , #19|
|Release Date: 05-24-2005|
|Allowed Countries (hover)|
|Publisher: Random House Publishing Group|
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On a slow, chilly Saturday in December, shortly after the Lakers overcame a sixteen-point halftime deficit and beat New Jersey, I got a call from a murderer.
I hadn’t watched basketball since college, had returned to it because I was working at developing my leisure skills. The woman in my life was visiting her grandmother in Connecticut, the woman who used to be in my life was living in Seattle with her new guy—temporarily, she claimed, as if I had a right to care—and my caseload had just abated.
Three court cases in two months: two child-custody disputes, one relatively benign, the other nightmarish; and an injury consult on a fifteen-year-old girl who’d lost a hand in a car crash. Now all the papers were filed and I was ready for a week or two of nothing.
I’d downed a couple of beers during the game and was nearly dozing on my living room sofa. The distinctive squawk of the business phone roused me. Generally, I let my service pick up. Why I answered, I still can’t say.
I didn’t recognize his voice. Eight years had passed.
“Speaking. Who’s this?”
Now I remembered. The same slurred voice deepened to a man’s baritone. By now he’d be a man. Some kind of man.
“Where are you calling from, Rand?”
“Out of the C.Y.A.”
“I, uh . . . yeah, I finished.”
As if it had been a course of study. Maybe it had been. “When?”
What could I say? Congratulations? God help us?