Slaughter

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Authors: John Lutz

BOOK: Slaughter
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Highest Praise for
John Lutz
 
 
“John Lutz knows how to make you shiver.”
—Harlan Coben
 
“Lutz offers up a heart-pounding roller coaster
of a tale.”
—Jeffery Deaver
 
“John Lutz is one of the masters of the police novel.”
—Ridley Pearson
 
“John Lutz is a major talent.”
—John Lescroart
 
“I've been a fan for years.”
—T. Jefferson Parker
 
“John Lutz just keeps getting better and better.”
—Tony Hillerman
 
“Lutz ranks with such vintage masters
of big-city murder
as Lawrence Block and Ed McBain.”
—St. Louis Post-Dispatch
 
“Lutz is among the best.”
—San Diego Union
 
“Lutz knows how to seize and hold the
reader's imagination.”
—Cleveland Plain Dealer
 
“It's easy to see why he's won an Edgar
and two Shamuses.”
—Publishers Weekly
 
 
Frenzy
 
“The ninth entry in the Quinn series contains all the
elements fans have come to expect: a painstaking
procedural investigation, mordant humor, white-
knuckle suspense, and a three-dimensional villain.”
—Booklist
 
 
Twist
 
“One of the top ten mystery novels of 2013.”
—The Strand Magazine
 
 
Pulse
 
“Grisly murders seen through the eyes of killer
and victim; crime scenes from which clues slowly
accumulate; a determined killer . . . compelling.”
—Booklist
 
“One of the ten best books of the year.”
—The Strand Magazine
 
 
Serial
 
“Wow, oh wow, oh wow . . . that's as simple as I can
put it. You gotta read this one.”
—True Crime Book Reviews
 
 
Mister X
 
“A page-turner to the nail-biting end . . . twisty,
creepy whodunit.”
—Publishers Weekly
(starred review)
 
 
Night Kills
 
“Lutz's skill will keep you glued to this thick thriller.”
—St. Louis Post-Dispatch
 
 
Urge to Kill
 
“A solid and compelling winner . . . sharp
characterization, compelling dialogue, and graphic
depictions of evil.... Lutz knows how to keep
the pages turning.”
—BookReporter.com
 
 
In for the Kill
 
“Shamus and Edgar award–winner Lutz gives us
further proof of his enormous talent . . . an
enthralling page-turner.”
—Publishers Weekly
 
 
Chill of Night
 
“The ingenuity of the plot shows that Lutz
is in rare form.”
—The New York Times Book Review
 
“A dazzling tour de force . . . compelling, absorbing.”
—St. Louis Post-Dispatch
 
 
Fear the Night
 
“A tense, fast-moving novel, a plot-driven page-turner
of the first order . . . a great read!”
—Book Page
 
 
Darker Than Night
 
“Readers will believe that they just stepped off a Tilt-
A-Whirl after reading this action-packed police
procedural.”
—The Midwest Book Review
 
 
Night Victims
 
“John Lutz knows how to ratchet up the terror.... He
propels the story with effective twists and a fast pace.”
—Sun-Sentinel
 
 
The Night Watcher
 
“Compelling . . . a gritty psychological
thriller.... Lutz draws the reader deep into the
killer's troubled psyche.”
—Publishers Weekly
 
 
Final Seconds
 
“Lutz always delivers the goods, and this is
no exception.”
—Booklist
A
LSO
BY
J
OHN
L
UTZ
*Frenzy
*Carnage: The Prequel to “Frenzy”
(e-short)
*Twist
*Pulse
*Switch
(e-short)
*Serial
*Mister X
*Urge to Kill
*Night Kills
*In for the Kill
Chill of Night
Fear the Night
*Darker Than Night
Night Victims
The Night Watcher
The Night Caller
Final Seconds
(with David August)
The Ex
Single White Female
 
* featuring Frank Quinn
 
 
Available from Kensington Publishing Corp. and
Pinnacle Books
JOHN LUTZ
SLAUGHTER
PINNACLE BOOKS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
For The Aardvarkian, Mr. B, Mr. E,
Ms. El, The Em, Mr. J, Mr. Lucas,
The Soph, The journey.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The author wishes to acknowledge the invaluable aid of Michaela Hamilton, Dominick Abel, Marilyn Davis, and Barbara Lutz.
PART ONE
Still as they run they look behind,
They hear a voice in every wind,
And snatch a fearful joy.
—T
HOMAS
G
RAY
, “Ode on a Distant
Prospect of Eton College”
1
R
ose Darling knew she'd begun jogging too late. Unless she lengthened her stride, she'd be caught in Central Park after dark. Not that she hadn't been warned, but hadn't everybody at some time or other been warned not to be in Central Park after dark?
The trouble was, she had a date, and if she turned her daily jog into a track meet with the clock, her long dark hair would become a sweaty, unmanageable mass in the summer heat.
Rose was an attractive woman, tall and athletic, with shapely legs and a graceful way about her. Men would stare at her when she jogged.
Like the guy she was approaching on her left, who had a bicycle upside down so it rested on its seat and handlebars. Was he only pretending to work on his bike, so he could stop and watch her pass? Maybe he'd give her a few seconds, make up his mind, and start after her. He could catch her easily on his bike.
And he did straighten up and give her a direct, leering look from beneath a broad blue sweatband.
She averted her eyes and stared straight ahead as she jogged past. When she was well beyond him, she risked glancing over her shoulder, half expecting to see him pedaling hard and bearing down on her.
But he was bent over his upside-down bicycle again, busy trying to repair whatever was wrong with it.
Big wuss, I am!
She almost smiled.
Breathing more freely, she adjusted her pace so she did a minimum of bouncing, preserving her hairdo. She continued telling herself to calm down, she'd make it to the Central Park West and 81st Street exit before the sky became dark. She'd be out of the jungle then, into the bright lights and ceaseless motion of the city. Safe.
Safer, anyway. A different sort of jungle.
After about five minutes the trail bent and she looked directly ahead and saw the tall buildings along Central Park West. Their windows were beginning to show lights in uneven patterns, reminding her of a crossword puzzle that was all blanks. Behind the jagged skyline the blue sky had become an endless deepening purple.
Rose looked around her. There was no one in sight.
But she could hear the rushing whisper of the traffic now. Ahead of her.
Getting close. I'll make it out before dark.
That was when she heard the cry. It was sharp and distinct, and quickly over. The cry of a wounded or slain animal? A woman?
It had come from off to the right and slightly ahead of her. There were trees there, and thick foliage. She might have seen some movement, but she couldn't be sure. She kept her senses tuned for another cry.
Rose didn't know the source of the cry, but upon reflection she was sure it hadn't been a bird. There was too much . . . anguish in it.
My imagination again.
She could hear herself breathing hard and fast. Without thinking about it, she'd picked up her pace.
Another movement! Off the trail and near where she'd seen the first.
Someone might be over there hurt. Might need her help.
She'd heard the cry and seen the movement. She could veer off, run over there.
Don't be an idiot! If you really saw anything it was probably a dog or cat. Maybe a squirrel. There were about a thousand of them in the park.
Her legs felt suddenly heavier as she jogged past the spot where, if there was anything in the bushes, predator, human, or otherwise, it would have begun pursuing her.
She speeded up even more.
Tomorrow. I'll jog again in the morning and go over there, make sure I saw nothing important. Make sure nothing happened.
She thought she heard something behind her, and she stole a glance over her shoulder.
No one in sight. Almost dark now.
No one in sight.
But plenty of places for them to hide.
Her jog became a dash.

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