Gregg Olsen - Closer Than Blood
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- Book:Closer Than Blood
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- Publisher:Pinnacle
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- Year:2011
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Closer Than Blood: summary, description and annotation
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Youll sleep with the lights on after reading Gregg Olsen. --Allison BrennanOlsen will have you on the edge of your seat. --Lee ChildThe first time was easy. No one ever suspected the victim had been murdered. The crime long buried, the dark passions guiding the killers hand are still alive. But the need for revenge cannot be denied. Only one person can stop the killing. Only one person can identify the killer. Only one person knows the face of death--is as close as the face in the mirror. . .Praise for Gregg Olsens novelsWickedly clever! Twisted.--Lisa GardnerOlsen writes rapid-fire page-turners. --Seattle Times Grabs you by the throat.--Kay Hooper
Gregg Olsen: author's other books
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Table of Contents
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The author wishes to thank the following for their help with Closer Than Blood : Annette Anderson, Tina Marie Brewer, Charles Turner, Bunny Kuhlman, and Debra Gelbach.
And special thanks go to Michaela Hamilton, who came up with a wonderful solution at the eleventh hour, proving once again why she is my forever editor.
And finally (really), to Jane Dettinger, who knows that seeing double is sometimes a very, very good thing.
ALSO BY GREGG OLSEN
Victim Six
Heart of Ice
A Cold Dark Place
A Wicked Snow
A Twisted Faith
The Deep Dark
If Loving You Is Wrong
Abandoned Prayers
Bitter Almonds
Mockingbird (Cruel Deception)
Starvation Heights
Confessions of an American Black Widow
EPILOGUE
Port Orchard
Sunday morning all over Puget Sound people did what they always did. Some woke up to brewing coffee, sizzling bacon, or the frenzy that comes with getting ready for church. Some hurried out the door to walk their dogs or take a run along a path. May in the Northwest is stunningly unpredictable.
The night before it had rained buckets, soaking the streets, filling swollen gutters from Bremerton to Seattle, but that morning the whole region was blessed with the blue skies and soft marine winds that make the region among the most beautiful places on Earth to live.
All across the Puget Sound region, people connected to Toris crimes stirred.
In their cozy Harper bungalow, Kendall snuggled next to Steven, relieved that there were no more secrets between them. Hed been so understanding and forgiving that she wondered how she could have doubted him at all. The fact that shed given birth so many years ago hadnt changed who she was to him or to Cody. That shed made the decision to give her son up for adoption hadnt changed who she was. It was not a mark against her.
Her oldest son. Hed be eighteen in a couple of years. She wondered if hed look for her. She hoped so. She wanted more than anything for Mary and Doug Reed to see their grandson.
As she drifted off toward much-needed sleep, Kendall made a list in her head. Vonnie, Jason, Zach, Ronnie, Alex, Mikey... Lainie would have been Toris seventh victim. Tori was only thirty-three. Shed had decades of killing to do. There was no telling how many people she might have killed during the ten years that shed vanished. The FBI was working the case along with the Kitsap County Sheriffs Office. Seattle, Tacoma, and Bremerton police were also scouring their records for any connection she might have had.
It was possible that the only murder shed do time for was Alexs.
Kendall didnt think it was fair, but murder and justice usually werent.
When Parker Connelly was being booked into the Kitsap County Jail, all of his personal effects were cataloged, bagged, and placed into bins for storage.
The booking officer looked quizzically at the ID retrieved from his duct-tape wallet.
This is you, but the names not right, the officer said.
Parker shrugged. I know. My girlfriend had it made for me.
You dont look like an Eddie Kaminski. Maybe a Teddy Kaczynski.
I guess she thought it was funny, Parker said. You know, naming me after the guy she was using until we got out of here.
The officer closed the lid to the plastic tote.
Look, kid, Ill tell you something about that woman. Forget about her. Forget you ever laid eyes on her. I married a gal like that. Maybe not that bad. But the type. You meant nothing to her.
Parker kept his mouth shut.
I dont care what you say, asshole, he thought. Shes my soul mate. I can forgive her.
It took two minutes for Darius Fulton to hear the news that a new guy had joined the ranks of those killing time at the Pierce County Jail. Edmund Kaminski was locked up in a segregation cell.
That piece-of-shit cop is going away big-time, a guard said. So is that woman. Youll be out of here by tomorrow. This things big.
Darius assumed he was talking about Tori, but he wasnt.
By the time police came knocking on her North Tacoma door, Maddie Crane had downed her fourth whiskey sour and retired for the night. She looked at her watch, satisfied that everything was over. The plane had taken off from SeaTac to Miami. She was free. She was grateful for the second chance that Edmund Kaminski had given her the night he found her car in a ditch by the railroad tracks along Ruston Way. Instead of arresting her and destroying her once-damaged reputation, hed offered her a deal. At the time, it didnt seem too much of a compromise. Being a lawyer had always been about give-and-take.
The knocking on her door woke her, and she put on a robe and went to answer. It was Tacoma Police Detective Daniel Davis and two uniformed officers. Blue lights showered her garden with an eerily pretty light.
Madeline Andrea Crane?
You know who I am, Dan, she said.
Youre under arrest for conspiracy and fraud.
In her cell at the Kitsap County Jail, Tori Connelly lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The woman next to her smelled of vomit and body odor, and Tori pulled the scratchy blanket up over her mouth and nose to filter out the stink. She thought of a million reasons why shed ended up there. Shed miscalculated. She blamed Jason, her sister, Kendall, Kaminski, Parker, even Maddie Crane.
She blamed everyone but herself.
Youre that bitch who killed her husband, arent you?
The smelly woman on the other bed had awakened, and she was coming toward her.
Excuse me? Tori asked, suddenly ramrod upright.
I saw you on TV. Youre something. Were going to be friends. Come over here and sit next to me.
Tori flinched a little at the invitation. Id rather die.
Youre too pretty to die.
A smile came to Toris face. She knew the woman was right.
Lainie ONeal didnt lie awake all night like she had night after night. After shed been treated at Harrison Hospital and released, Adam Canfield took her to her Seattle condo. Theyd arrived very, very late, and Adam curled up on the couch. Without Ambien, without counting games to numb her mind, she simply and sweetly fell asleep. When she finally opened her eyes she remembered nothing of her dreams. She could remember what happened the night before and the drama that came with it, but that was all a true memory. It wasnt one of those transplanted dreams that her sister seemed to send her.
Her eyes lingered over the photograph of her sister and her sitting on the top of her dresser. It showed the two of them in their ballet recital costumes.
Lainie shifted in her bed and grabbed the extra pillow. She flung it across the room, knocking the photo and its silver frame to the floor.
Adam Canfield scurried into the room and turned on the light.
You all right? he said. I thought I heard something.
She glanced in the direction of the broken photograph and Adam nodded at the splinters of glass and the black-and-white photo. No comment was needed.
My head hurts, Lainie said, pressing her palm against the spot that had been shaved and bandaged.
Thats because your twin bitch-ter smacked you with a crowbar or something.
Right, she said, though she hadnt forgotten anything. What time is it?
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