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486 pages, Hardcover
First published August 20, 2013

"First you buy me a mocha. Then you let me help you hide a body. Now you take me to a biker clubhouse. Best. Day. Ever."

"I sat there, feeling sick and shocked and angry, most of all furious with myself for being such a fool, such a damned fool.
This wasn't a game. It was serious and ugly and I wanted nothing to do with it. And yet, in wanting nothing to do with it, I was a hypocrite."


"You're not shooting the cat. It would leave a mess."
"True. Also, the killing of small animals is the entrance ramp onto the serial killer highway." I paused. "Damn. I bet the cat knows that. He picked me because I can't hurt him, or I'd be fulfilling my biological destiny. So I'm screwed. The cat stays. Unless you'll kill him..." I glanced at him. "How does fifty bucks sound?"
"My nephew is a manipulative, scheming, unscrupulous son of a bitch. And those are his good qualities."

"He had nothing to feel guilty about. If he knew one thing about life, it was this : look out for yourself. No one else would do it for you."

I live with my mother in a house bigger than the entire shelter. I have a master’s degree from Yale. I work as a volunteer, and I don’t even need to do that. Do I appreciate it? No. On good days, it chafes, like a dress with a scratchy tag. On bad ones, I feel like a bobcat caught in a trap, ready to gnaw my foot off to escape. Then I look at someone like Cathy, and a wave of guilt and shame stifles the restlessness.Out of nowhere, Olivia is slammed with the news that she is not who she thinks she is. The media, the paparazzi, have a field day. Her face is plastered all over the news: it's big news, a socialite turns out to be the child of serial killers? That's the stuff that makes the media cream their pants. Her family and her fiancée...pretty much all the people she knows, really, prove themselves to be more or less fair-weather people, and Olivia does a pretty reasonable thing in my opinion. She runs away, she disguises herself; she wants to escape from it all, just for the moment.
"Prove us innocent of this crime and the other evidence will be called into question. A house of cards. Pull out one and the rest topples.” She leaned forward. “Can you do that for me, Olivia?"The rest of the book comprises Olivia and Gabriel working together in the course of their quest to prove her parents' supposed innocense. I enjoyed the way Olivia went through her investigation. She never acts so foolish as to make me cringe, she never deliberately places herself in the line of danger needlessly, and I feel that her behavior was rational, and within the limits of reason.
“I wouldn’t call Gabriel Walsh if I was on fire.” She pursed her lips. “No, I might. To sue everyone responsible---from the person who lit the match to those who made my clothes. But I’d wait until the fire was out. Otherwise, he’d just stand there until I was burned enough for a sizable settlement.”It is a good book...for a mystery. Because an investigative mystery is all that it is. The investigation is well-portrayed but it feels like the paranormal hype surrounding this book is just hype. There was almost nothing of the paranormal about it. If this book was a mystery, I would have liked it just fine. It promised to be what is was not, and that's ultimately what upsets me most.


When I hung up, Gabriel said, “Now you’re going out that—”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Don’t be stupid. I have a gun.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the .45.
“Which will knock you on your ass if you try firing with a bad leg. Sit down before you fall.”
“I’m—”
“Sit down.”
I walked to the door and peered out. If I strained, I could hear footsteps above. Anderson would
search the other rooms first. Then he’d come down here.
When I returned, Gabriel was still standing, leaning against the washing machine. Stubborn bastard.
“So you’re staying with me?” he said.
“Yep.”
“You may not want to do that.”
“Too bad.”
“I wouldn’t stay for you.”
“Probably not.”
His mouth opened, as if he’d been prepared for me to disagree. He paused and then said, “I wouldn’t. You know I wouldn’t.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re my partner. I watch your back.”
