Look Closely
Authors: Laura Caldwell
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Murder, #Psychological, #Suspense, #Suspense fiction, #New York (N.Y.), #Women lawyers
| Look Closely | |
| Laura Caldwell | |
| MIRA (2005) | |
| Rating: | ★★★★☆ |
| Tags: | Fiction, General, Murder, Psychological, Suspense, Suspense fiction, New York (N.Y.), Women lawyers |
Chick-lit author Caldwell (_The Year of Living Famously_) switches gears to draw from her former career as a trial lawyer for her first suspense novel. Manhattan attorney Hailey Sutter is headed to Chicago to represent the McKnight Corporation, whose Internet company has been accused of Web technology theft, when she receives a note saying, "There is no statute of limitations on murder. Look closely." The ominous statement catapults Hailey back to Woodland Dunes (a small seaside town on Lake Michigan), where her mother died from a head injury when Hailey was seven. Shortly afterward, her older brother and sister disappeared, and she was left in the care of her father, who refuses to discuss the incident. Between the McKnight arbitrations, Hailey flies from Manhattan to Chicago to Portland in search of her estranged siblings and answers that she hopes will shed some light on her mother's mysterious death. The smooth first-person narrative builds suspense and paints a fine picture of time and place. Unfortunately, the book loses steam in the final chapter, and the ending falls as flat as a day-old soufflé.
Agent, Maureen Walters at Curtis Brown Ltd. (June)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
"This fast read has a thought-provoking theme and an interesting medical angle." --
Romantic Times on A Clean Slate
Praise
Title Page
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Copyright Page
Praise for the novels of
“Riveting. Laura Caldwel has weaved a
haunting story of suspense and family secrets. If you
pick up
Look Closely,
you won’t want to put it down.”
—Mary Jane Clark,
New York Times
bestsel ing author of
Nobody Knows
and
Hide Yourself Away
“A sensational suspense debut for Laura Caldwel !
Look Closely
is an action-packed thril er of
surprising emotional depth. Caldwel mixes
the ingredients—an unexplained death,
family secrets and foggy memories—
into a compel ing story you won’t want to end.”
—David El is, Edgar Award-winning author of
Line of Vision
and
Jury of One
“Caldwel ’s snazzy, gripping third novel gives readers
an exciting taste of life in the fast lane,
exposing the truth behind the fairy tale.”
—
Booklist
on
The Year of Living Famously
“
A Clean Slate
is Laura Caldwel ’s page-turner about a
woman with a chance to reinvent herself, something
most of us have imagined from time to time.”
—
Chicago Tribune
“This debut novel from Laura Caldwel won us over
with its exotic locales, strong portrayal of the bonds
between girlfriends, cast of sexy foreign guys, and,
most of al , its touching story of a young woman
at a crossroads in her life.”
—
Barnes & Noble.com
on
Burning the Map,
selected as one of “The Best of 2002”
Watch for a brand-new novel from
LAURA CALDWELL
®
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My heartfelt thanks to the fol owing people:
Margaret O’Neil Marbury, Maureen Walters,
everyone at MIRA Books (especial y Dianne Moggy,
Donna Hayes, Laura Morris, Craig Swinwood,
Sarah Rundle, Margie Mil er and Tara Kel y),
Mark Bragg, Pam Carrol , Jim Lupo,
Ginger Heyman, Trisha Woodson,
Ted McNabola and Joan Posch.
Thanks mostly to Jason Bil ups, purveyor of dreams.
Prologue
Seated at a table near the back, Caroline Ramsey lifted her champagne flute an inch off the table.
“Cheers,”shemurmuredhalfheartedly,toastingthe bride and groom for what seemed the fiftieth time. Almost immediately, she set the glass back down.
Her husband, Matt, leaned toward her. “Anything wrong?” he said. Through his glasses, his brown eyes looked only mildly concerned.
The groom was a distant relative of Matt’s, and in order to compensate for knowing so few people, he’d gone into his social mode, dancing to every sil y wedding song and striking up conversations around the room. He always became vivacious and outgoing in these situations, something Caroline loved about him, since she was more reserved. Yet now she almost wished that he were more of a watcher, like her, someone who hung on the fringes. If that were true, maybe he would wonder now, maybe he would look deeper.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she lied, because she didn’t want him to wonder. She might not be strong enough. She might tel him what she’d planned. And if she told him, he would talk her out of it. This was something she had to do, though, just one more time. Hopeful y, she would get the chance one day to explain.
Matt ruffled her hair, a gesture that usual y annoyed her. Tonight, it somehow brought relief.
The wedding was being held in an eight-point tent on the lawn of a Charleston mansion, and the beleaguered jazz band struck up another number as the latest toastmaster final y gave up the microphone. Caroline and Matt both turned to watch the newlyweds take the dance floor, a surge of guests fol owing and engulfing them. Caroline remembered her own wedding, just four years ago, at an inn on Mount Hood. It had been much smal er, with cheap ivory votive candles and wilted wildflowers instead of silver candelabras and elaborate white lily arrangements, but she’d been fil ed with promise just like the bride tonight. She’d stupidly assumed that her troubles were behind her, that her new life with Matt would obliterate the old.
“Should we join them?” Matt cocked his head at the dance floor.
She looked at those warm brown eyes, his soft curly hair, which was always a little too long, and the dimple he got in one cheek when he smiled, and she kissed him. He kissed her back, cupping her face. It reminded her of their wedding, except that it was beaming bright that day, the sun relentlessly striking their faces as they stood on the cliff. Matt’s parents had been there, along with his brother and a few friends, but of course her family had been absent. Or maybe “absent” wasn’t the right word, since she hadn’t exactly invited anyone from her past.
“You want to go back to the hotel?” Matt murmured.
She shook her head, finding it hard to talk. “I have to use the restroom,” she said at last.
“I’l be here.” He stroked her cheek one more time.
She stood and turned away before she could change her mind, making her way across the flagstone path to the Trembly Mansion where the rest-rooms were located. According to the history printed on the back of the wedding program, the mansion had been built in 1856 by Arthur Trembly and his second wife, Meredith, who was only seventeen at the time of their marriage. Caroline glanced up at the mansion with its brick front, soaring white columns, wide veranda and leaded-glass windows, and she could almost imagine young Meredith stepping out onto that veranda, resplendent in a tightly bodiced gown of crimson taffeta, greeting the guests of their latest gala.
It was how Caroline had coped al those years— making up stories and images in her head, fil ing her mind with fascinating people and intriguing families to compensate for her own lack of friends and family. But she couldn’t let herself go too far down the paths of those tales any longer. Instead of shielding her from reality as they used to, they now reminded her of the memories she’d worked so hard to bury. She quickened her pace and trotted up the side stairway, past a sign with an arrow reading Powder Room. The information about the Trembly Mansion also said that this side of the house had been temporarily converted into a catering kitchen and guest-bathroom facilities, while the remainder of the home was being renovated by a local historical society.
