Présentation de l'éditeur
The explosive new masterpiece of suspense from the #1 New York Times–bestselling author.
LAPD cop Scott James is not doing so well. Eight months ago, a shocking nighttime assault by unidentified men killed his partner Stephanie, nearly killed him, and left him enraged, ashamed, and ready to explode. He is unfit for duty—until he meets his new partner.
Maggie is not doing so well, either. A German shepherd who survived three tours in Iraq and Afghanistan sniffing explosives before losing her handler to an IED, her PTSD is as bad as Scott’s.
They are each other’s last chance. Shunned and shunted to the side, they set out to investigate the one case that no one wants them to touch: the identity of the men who murdered Stephanie. What they begin to find is nothing like what Scott has been told, and the journey will take them both through the darkest moments of their own personal hells. Whether they will make it out again, no one can say.
Extrait
They were on that particular street at that specific T intersection at that crazy hour because Scott James was hungry. Stephanie shut off their patrol car to please him. They could have been anywhere else, but he led her there, that night, to that silent intersection. It was so quiet that night, they spoke of it.
Unnaturally quiet. *
Stephanie frowned.
“You sure you know where you’re going?”
“I know where I’m going. Just hang on.”
Scott was trying to find an all-night noodle house that a Rampart burglary detective had raved about, one of those pop-up places that takes over an empty storefront for a couple months, hypes itself on Twitter, then disappears.
Scott was trying to figure out how he had screwed up the directions when he suddenly heard it.
“Listen.”
“What?”
“Shh, listen. Turn off the engine.”
“You have no idea where this place is, do you?”
“You have to hear this. Listen.”
Uniformed LAPD officer Stephanie Andress, a P-III with eleven years on the job, shifted into park, turned off their Adam car, and stared at him. She had a fine tan face, with lines at the corners of her eyes, and short sandy hair.
Scott James, a thirty-two-year-old P-II with six years on the job, grinned as he touched his ear, telling her to listen. Stephanie seemed lost for a moment, then blossomed with a wide smile.
“It’s quiet.”
“Crazy, huh? No radio calls. No chatter. I can’t even hear the freeway.”
Stephanie reached to start the car, but Scott stopped her.
“Let’s sit for a minute. How many times you hear silence like this?”
“Never. This is so cool, it’s creeping me out.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”
Stephanie laughed, and Scott loved how the streetlights gleamed in her eyes. He wanted to touch her hand, but didn’t. They had been partners for seven months, but now Scott was leaving, and there were things he wanted to say.
“You’ve been a good partner.”
“Are you going to get all gooey on me?”
“Yeah. Kinda.”
“Okay, well, I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss you more.”
Their little joke. Everything a competition, even to who would miss the other the most. He wanted to touch her hand again, but then she reached out and took his hand in hers, and gave him a squeeze.
“No, you’re not. You’re going to kick ass, take names, and have a blast. It’s what you want, man, and I couldn’t be happier. You’re a stud.”
Scott laughed. He had played football for two years at the University of Redlands before blowing his knee, then spent four years as an MP in the United States Marine Corps. He joined LAPD after the Marines, and took night classes for the next four years to finish his degree. Scott James had goals. He was young, determined, and competitive, and wanted to run with the big dogs. He had been accepted into LAPD’s Metro Division, the elite uniformed division that backed up area-based officers throughout the city. Scott’s transfer to Metro would come at the end of the week.
Stephanie was still holding his hand, and Scott was wondering what she meant by it when an enormous Bentley
