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The Affair (Jack Reacher Series #16)

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Overview

With Reacher, #1 New York Times bestselling author Lee Child has created “a series that stands in the front rank of modern thrillers” (The Washington Post).
 
Everything starts somewhere. . . .

For elite military cop Jack Reacher, that somewhere was Carter Crossing, Mississippi, way back in 1997. A lonely railroad track. A crime scene. ...

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The Affair (Jack Reacher Series #16)

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Overview

With Reacher, #1 New York Times bestselling author Lee Child has created “a series that stands in the front rank of modern thrillers” (The Washington Post).
 
Everything starts somewhere. . . .

For elite military cop Jack Reacher, that somewhere was Carter Crossing, Mississippi, way back in 1997. A lonely railroad track. A crime scene. A coverup.

A young woman is dead, and solid evidence points to a soldier at a nearby military base. But that soldier has powerful friends in Washington.

Reacher is ordered undercoverto find out everything he can, to control the local police, and then to vanish. Reacher is a good soldier. But when he gets to Carter Crossing, he finds layers no one saw coming, and the investigation spins out of control.

Local sheriff Elizabeth Deveraux has a thirst for justiceand an appetite for secrets. Uncertain they can trust one another, Reacher and Deveraux reluctantly join forces. Reacher works to uncover the truth, while others try to bury it forever. The conspiracy threatens to shatter his faith in his mission, and turn him into a man to be feared.

A novel of unrelenting suspense that could only come from the pen of #1 New York Times bestselling author Lee Child, The Affair is the start of the Reacher saga, a thriller that takes Reacher—and his readers—right to the edge . . . and beyond.

From the Hardcover edition.

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Editorial Reviews

From Barnes & Noble

With Jack Reacher, bestselling Lee Child has created "a series that stands in the front rank of modern thrillers" (Washington Post). This suspenseful episode fills in his backstory.

Sessalee Hensley

Publishers Weekly
Child’s compelling 16th thriller featuring incorruptible vigilante Jack Reacher (after Worth Dying For) rewinds the clock to 1997 when Reacher was still a military cop and working on the case that led to his eventual break with the Army. Reacher must figure out whether the shocking murder of 27-year-old Janice May Chapman in Carter Crossing, Miss., has any connection with nearby Fort Kelham, where Army Rangers are trained. Reacher soon learns that two other women had their throats slit in the same way as Chapman, and the leading suspect is a Fort Kelham captain, whose father is a U.S. senator and diehard Army supporter. Reacher knows all too well the case has political trouble written all over it—and he and his Army bosses quickly butt heads over how it should be handled. Readers expecting new insight or details into Reacher’s background will be disappointed, but they’ll find all the elements—solid action, wry humor, smart dialogue—that have made this series so popular. (Oct.)
Library Journal
What turned career army cop Jack Reacher into the wandering and deadly version of a knight in rusted armor? In this 16th novel in the highly successful Reacher franchise, Child goes back to small-town Mississippi in 1997. Women have been murdered near a secret Ranger base. The Rangers are suspected, and the official investigation is a mess. Reacher is sent to town disguised as a bum to keep one eye on what might be a flawed army investigation, the other on a series of similar killings in the town, and if he had a third eye, he would use it to cover his back. VERDICT Exciting and suspenseful, with deceit and cover-ups, violence, and sex, this is another great entry in Child's compelling series. Reacher's many fans can only hope there will be many more. Highly recommended for anyone who likes intelligent, well-written, tense thrillers. [Library marketing; see Prepub Alert, 4/4/11; to the dismay of series fans, the diminutive Tom Cruise is slated to play the six-foot-tall Reacher in a film adaptation of Child's One Shot.—Ed.]—Robert Conroy, Warren, MI
Library Journal
Who was Jack Reacher before he became a vigilante hero? That's the story Child answers in this 16th Reacher thriller. Having won Anthony, Barry, and Nero awards, sold rights in 50-plus territories, and sold film rights to all the books, Child achieved the pinnacle with two No. 1 New York Times best sellers last year. He's on top; buy multiples.
Janet Maslin
Mr. Child's 16th book, The Affair, shakes up the status quo by delivering the Reacher creation myth…it presents his most colorful appearance in a long time. It establishes Reacher's idealistic but vengeful personality and lays out the rules by which he lives.
—The New York Times
From the Publisher
“A veritable tour de force . . . brilliantly constructed, flawlessly executed and deliciously plotted.”—The Washington Times

“The [Reacher] novel fans have been waiting for.”—USA Today

“One of the best Reacher books yet . . . The tension builds early and continues nonstop.”—The Miami Herald
 
“Big, exciting . . . The Affair shakes up the status quo.”—The New York Times

“A series that stands in the front rank of modern thrillers.”—The Washington Post
 
“Jack Reacher is the coolest continuing series character now on offer.”—Stephen King
 
“Child makes what he does seem simple. If it is, though, it’s strange that nobody has managed it so well.”—Evening Standard

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780385344326
  • Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
  • Publication date: 9/27/2011
  • Series: Jack Reacher Series , #16
  • Pages: 416
  • Sales rank: 1,041,448
  • Product dimensions: 6.10 (w) x 9.10 (h) x 1.60 (d)

Meet the Author

Lee Child

LEE CHILD is the author of sixteen Jack Reacher thrillers, including the #1 New York Times bestsellers Worth Dying For, 61 Hours, Gone Tomorrow, Nothing to Lose, and Bad Luck and Trouble.  His debut, Killing Floor, won both the Anthony and the Barry awards for Best First Mystery, and The Enemy won both the Barry and the Nero awards for Best Novel.  Foreign rights in the Jack Reacher series have sold in more than fifty territories.  All titles have been optioned for major motion pictures.  Child, a native of England and a former television director, lives in New York City.

From the Hardcover edition.

Biography

Lee Child was born in 1954 in Coventry, England, but spent his formative years in the nearby city of Birmingham. By coincidence he won a scholarship to the same high school that JRR Tolkien had attended. He went to law school in Sheffield, England, and after part-time work in the theater he joined Granada Television in Manchester for what turned out to be an eighteen-year career as a presentation director during British TV's "golden age." During his tenure his company made Brideshead Revisited, The Jewel in the Crown, Prime Suspect, and Cracker. But he was fired in 1995 at the age of 40 as a result of corporate restructuring. Always a voracious reader, he decided to see an opportunity where others might have seen a crisis and bought six dollars' worth of paper and pencils and sat down to write a book, Killing Floor, the first in the Jack Reacher series.

Killing Floor was an immediate success and launched the series which has grown in sales and impact with every new installment.

Lee has three homes —an apartment in Manhattan, a country house in the south of France, and whatever airplane cabin he happens to be in while traveling between the two. In the US he drives a supercharged Jaguar, which was built in Jaguar's Browns Lane plant, thirty yards from the hospital in which he was born.

Lee spends his spare time reading, listening to music, and watching the Yankees, Aston Villa, or Marseilles soccer. He is married with a grown-up daughter. He is tall and slim, despite an appalling diet and a refusal to exercise.

Good To Know

Lee Child is the author of sixteen Jack Reacher thrillers, including the New York Times bestsellers Persuader, The Enemy, One Shot, The Hard Way, and #1 bestsellers Bad Luck and Trouble and Nothing to Lose. His debut, Killing Floor, won both the Anthony and the Barry awards for Best First Mystery, and The Enemy won both the Barry and Nero awards for Best Novel. Foreign rights in the Jack Reacher series have sold in forty territories. All titles have been optioned for major motion pictures.

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    1. Hometown:
      Birmingham, England
    1. Date of Birth:
      November 30, 1953
    2. Place of Birth:
      Coventry, England
    1. Education:
      Sheffield University
    2. Website:

Read an Excerpt

Chapter 1

The Pentagon is the world's largest office building, six and a half million square feet, thirty thousand people, more than seventeen miles of corridors, but it was built with just three street doors, each one of them opening into a guarded pedestrian lobby. I chose the southeast option, the main concourse entrance, the one nearest the Metro and the bus station, because it was the busiest and the most popular with civilian workers, and I wanted plenty of civilian workers around, preferably a whole long unending stream of them, for insurance purposes, mostly against getting shot on sight. Arrests go bad all the time, sometimes accidentally, sometimes on purpose, so I wanted witnesses. I wanted independent eyeballs on me, at least at the beginning. I remember the date, of course. It was Tuesday, the eleventh of March, 1997, and it was the last day I walked into that place as a legal employee of the people who built it.

A long time ago.

The eleventh of March 1997 was also by chance exactly four and a half years before the world changed, on that other future Tuesday, and so like a lot of things in the old days the security at the main concourse entrance was serious without being hysterical. Not that I invited hysteria. Not from a distance. I was wearing my Class A uniform, all of it clean, pressed, polished, and spit-shined, all of it covered with thirteen years' worth of medal ribbons, badges, insignia, and citations. I was thirty-six years old, standing tall and walking ramrod straight, a totally squared away U.S. Army Military Police major in every respect, except that my hair was too long and I hadn't shaved for five days.

Back then Pentagon security was run by the Defense Protective Service, and from forty yards I saw ten of their guys in the lobby, which I thought was far too many, which made me wonder whether they were all theirs or whether some of them were actually ours, working undercover, waiting for me. Most of our skilled work is done by Warrant Officers, and they do a lot of it by pretending to be someone else. They impersonate colonels and generals and enlisted men, and anyone else they need to, and they're good at it. All in a day's work for them to throw on DPS uniforms and wait for their target. From thirty yards I didn't recognize any of them, but then, the army is a very big institution, and they would have chosen men I had never met before.

I walked on, part of a broad wash of people heading across the concourse to the doors, some men and women in uniform, either Class As like my own or the old woodland-pattern BDUs we had back then, and some men and women obviously military but out of uniform, in suits or work clothes, and some obvious civilians, some of each category carrying bags or briefcases or packages, all of each category slowing and sidestepping and shuffling as the broad wash of people narrowed to a tight arrowhead and then narrowed further still to lonely single file or collegial two-by-two, as folks got ready to stream inside. I lined up with them, on my own, single file, behind a woman with pale unworn hands and ahead of a guy in a suit that had gone shiny at the elbows. Civilians, both of them, desk workers, probably analysts of some kind, which was exactly what I wanted. Independent eyeballs. It was close to noon. There was sun in the sky and the March air had a little warmth in it. Spring, in Virginia. Across the river the cherry trees were about to wake up. The famous blossom was about to break out. All over the innocent nation airline tickets and SLR cameras lay on hall tables, ready for sightseeing trips to the capital.

I waited in line. Way ahead of me the DPS guys were doing what security guys do. Four of them were occupied with specific tasks, two manning an inquiry counter and two checking official badge holders and then waving them through an open turnstile. Two were standing directly behind the glass inside the doors, looking out, heads high, eyes front, scanning the approaching crowd. Four were hanging back in the shadows behind the turnstiles, just clumped together, shooting the shit. All ten were armed.

It was the four behind the turnstiles that worried me. No question that back in 1997 the Department of Defense was seriously puffed up and overmanned in relation to the threats we faced then, but even so it was unusual to see four on-duty guys with absolutely nothing to do. Most commands at least made their surplus personnel look busy. But these four had no obvious role. I stretched up tall and peered ahead and tried to get a look at their shoes. You can learn a lot from shoes. Undercover disguises often don't get that far, especially in a uniformed environment. The DPS was basically a beat cop role, so to the extent that a choice was available, DPS guys would go for cop shoes, big comfortable things appropriate for walking and standing all day. Undercover MP Warrant Officers might use their own shoes, which would be subtly different.

But I couldn't see their shoes. It was too dark inside, and too far away.

The line shuffled along, at a decent pre-9/11 clip. No sullen impatience, no frustration, no fear. Just old-style routine. The woman in front of me was wearing perfume. I could smell it coming off the nape of her neck. I liked it. The two guys behind the glass noticed me about ten yards out. Their gaze moved off the woman and onto me. It rested on me a beat longer than it needed to, and then it moved on to the guy behind.

Then it came back. Both men looked me over quite openly, up and down, side to side, four or five seconds, and then I shuffled forward and their attention moved behind me again. They didn't say anything to each other. Didn't say anything to anyone else, either. No warnings, no alerts. Two possible interpretations. One, best case, I was just a guy they hadn't seen before. Or maybe I stood out because I was bigger and taller than anyone within a hundred yards. Or because I was wearing a major's gold oak leaves and ribbons for some heavy-duty medals, including a Silver Star, like a real poster boy, but because of the hair and the beard I also looked like a real caveman, which visual dissonance might have been enough reason for the long second glance, just purely out of interest. Sentry duty can be boring, and unusual sights are always welcome.

Or two, worst case, they were merely confirming to themselves that some expected event had indeed happened, and that all was going according to plan. Like they had prepared and studied photographs and were saying to themselves: OK, he's here, right on time, so now we just wait two more minutes until he steps inside, and then we take him down.

Because I was expected, and I was right on time. I had a twelve o'clock appointment and matters to discuss with a particular colonel in a third-floor office in the C ring, and I was certain I would never get there. To walk head-on into a hard arrest was a pretty blunt tactic, but sometimes if you want to know for sure whether the stove is hot, the only way to find out is to touch it.

The guy ahead of the woman ahead of me stepped inside the doors and held up a badge that was attached to his neck by a lanyard. He was waved onward. The woman in front of me moved and then stopped short, because right at that moment the two DPS watchers chose to come out from behind the glass. The woman paused in place and let them squeeze out in front of her, against the pressing flow. Then she resumed her progress and stepped inside, and the two guys stopped and stood exactly where she had been, three feet in front of me, but facing in the opposite direction, toward me, not away from me.

They were blocking the door. They were looking right at me. I was pretty sure they were genuine DPS personnel. They were wearing cop shoes, and their uniforms had eased and stretched and molded themselves to their individual physiques over a long period of time. These were not disguises, snatched from a locker and put on for the first time that morning. I looked beyond the two guys, inside, at their four partners who were doing nothing, and I tried to judge the fit of their clothes, by way of comparison. It was hard to tell.

In front of me the guy on my right said, "Sir, may we help you?"

I asked, "With what?"

"Where are you headed today?"

"Do I need to tell you that?"

"No sir, absolutely not," the guy said. "But we could speed you along a little, if you like."

Probably via an inconspicuous door into a small locked room, I thought. I figured they had civilian witnesses on their mind too, the same way I did. I said, "I'm happy to wait my turn. I'm almost there, anyway."

The two guys said nothing in reply to that. Stalemate. Amateur hour. To try to start the arrest outside was dumb. I could push and shove and turn and run and be lost in the crowd in the blink of an eye. And they wouldn't shoot. Not outside. There were too many people on the concourse. Too much collateral damage. This was 1997, remember. March eleventh. Four and a half years before the new rules. Much better to wait until I was inside the lobby. The two stooges could close the doors behind me and form up shoulder to shoulder in front of them while I was getting the bad news at the desk. At that point theoretically I could turn back and fight my way past them again, but it would take me a second or two, and in that second or two the four guys with nothing to do could shoot me in the back about a thousand times.

And if I charged forward they could shoot me in the front. And where would I go anyway? To escape into the Pentagon was no kind of a good idea. The world's largest office building. Thirty thousand people. Five floors. Two basements. Seventeen miles of corridors. There are ten radial hallways between the rings, and they say a person can make it between any two random points inside a maximum seven minutes, which was presumably calculated with reference to the army's official quick- march pace of four miles an hour, which meant if I was running hard I could be anywhere within about three minutes. But where? I could find a broom closet and steal bag lunches and hold out a day or two, but that would be all. Or I could take hostages and try to argue my case, but I had never seen that kind of thing succeed.

So I waited.

The DPS guy in front of me on my right said, "Sir, you be sure and have a nice day now," and then he moved past me, and his partner moved past me on my other side, both of them just strolling slow, two guys happy to be out in the air, patrolling, varying their viewpoint. Maybe not so dumb after all. They were doing their jobs and following their plan. They had tried to decoy me into a small locked room, but they had failed, no harm, no foul, so now they were turning the page straight to plan B. They would wait until I was inside and the doors were closed, and then they would jump into crowd control mode, dispersing the incoming people, keeping them safe in case shots had to be fired inside. I assumed the lobby glass was supposed to be bulletproof, but the smart money never bets on the DoD having gotten exactly what it paid for.

The door was right in front of me. It was open. I took a breath and stepped into the lobby. Sometimes if you want to know for sure whether the stove is hot, the only way to find out is to touch it.

Chapter 2

The woman with the perfume and the pale hands was already deep into the corridor beyond the open turnstile. She had been waved through. Straight ahead of me was the two-man inquiry desk. To my left were the two guys checking badges. The open turnstile was between their hips. The four spare guys were still doing nothing beyond it. They were still clustered together, quiet and watchful, like an independent team. I still couldn't see their shoes.

I took another breath and stepped up to the counter.

Like a lamb to the slaughter.

The desk guy on the left looked at me and said, "Yes, sir." Fatigue and resignation in his voice. A response, not a question, as if I had already spoken. He looked young and reasonably smart. Genuine DPS, presumably. MP Warrant Officers are quick studies, but they wouldn't be running a Pentagon inquiry desk, however deeply under they were supposed to be.

The desk guy looked at me again, expectantly, and I said, "I have a twelve o'clock appointment."

"Who with?"

"Colonel Frazer," I said.

The guy made out like he didn't recognize the name. The world's largest office building. Thirty thousand people. He leafed through a book the size of a telephone directory and asked, "Would that be Colonel John James Frazer? Senate Liaison?"

I said, "Yes."

Or: Guilty as charged.

Way to my left the four spare guys were watching me. But not moving. Yet.

The guy at the desk didn't ask my name. Partly because he had been briefed, presumably, and shown photographs, and partly because my Class A uniform included my name on a nameplate, worn as per regulations on my right breast pocket flap, exactly centered, its upper edge exactly a quarter of an inch below the top seam.

Seven letters: REACHER.

Or, eleven letters: Arrest me now.

The guy at the inquiry desk said, "Colonel John James Frazer is in 3C315. You know how to get there?"

I said, "Yes." Third floor, C ring, nearest to radial corridor number three, bay number fifteen. The Pentagon's version of map coordinates, which it needed, given that it covered twenty-nine whole acres of floor space.

The guy said, "Sir, you have a great day," and his guileless gaze moved past my shoulder to the next in line. I stood still for a moment. They were tying it up with a bow. They were making it perfect. The general common law test for criminal culpability is expressed by the Latin actus non facit reum nisi mens sit rea, which means, roughly, doing things won't necessarily get you in trouble unless you actually mean to do them. Action plus intention is the standard. They were waiting for me to prove my intention. They were waiting for me to step through the turnstile and into the labyrinth. Which explained why the four spare guys were on their side of the gate, not mine. Crossing the line would make it real. Maybe there were jurisdiction issues. Maybe lawyers had been consulted. Frazer wanted my ass gone for sure, but he wanted his own ass covered just as much.

I took another breath and crossed the line and made it real. I walked between the two badge checkers and squeezed between the cold alloy flanks of the turnstile. The bar was retracted. There was nothing to hit with my thighs. I stepped out on the far side and paused. The four spare guys were on my right. I looked at their shoes. Army regulations are surprisingly vague about shoes. Plain black lace-up oxfords or close equivalents, conservative, no designs on them, minimum of three pairs of eyelets, closed toe, maximum two-inch heel. That's all the fine print says. The four guys on my right were all in compliance, but they weren't wearing cop shoes. Not like the two guys outside. They were sporting four variations on the same classic theme. High shines, tight laces, a little creasing and wear here and there. Maybe they were genuine DPS. Maybe they weren't. No way of telling. Not right then.

I was looking at them, and they were looking at me, but no one spoke. I looped around them and headed deeper into the building. I used the E ring counterclockwise and turned left at the first radial hallway.

From the Hardcover edition.

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Interviews & Essays

The Fan Letter by Lee Child

They say the past is another country, and in my case it really was: provincial England at the end of the fifties and the start of the sixties, the last gasp of the post-war era, before it surrendered to the tectonic shift sparked by the Beatles. My family was neither rich nor poor, not that either condition had much meaning in a society with not much to buy and not much to lack. We accumulated toys at the rate of two a year: one on our birthdays, and one at Christmas. We had a big table radio (which we called "the wireless") in the dining room, and in the living room we had a black and white fishbowl television, full of glowing tubes, but there were only two channels, and they went off the air at ten in the evening, after playing the National Anthem, for which some families stood up, and sometimes we saw a double bill at the pictures on a Saturday morning, but apart from that we had no entertainment.

So we read books. As it happens I just saw some old research from that era which broke down reading habits by class (as so much was categorized in England at that time) and which showed that fully fifty percent of the middle class regarded reading as their main leisure activity. The figure for skilled workers was twenty-five percent, and even among laborers ten percent turned to books as a primary choice.

Not that we bought them. We used the library. Ours was housed in a leftover WW2 Nissen hut (the British version of a Quonset hut) which sat on a bombed-out lot behind a church. It had a low door and a unique warm, musty, dusty smell, which I think came partly from the worn floorboards and partly from the books themselves, of which there were not very many. I finished with the children's picture books by the time I was four, and had read all the chapter books by the time I was eight, and had read all the grown-up books by the time I was ten.

Not that I was unique - or even very bookish. I was one of the rough kids. We fought and stole and broke windows and walked miles to soccer games, where we fought some more. We were covered in scabs and scars. We had knives in our pockets - but we had books in our pockets too. Even the kids who couldn't read tried very hard to, because we all sensed there was more to life than the gray, pinched, post-war horizons seemed to offer. Traveling farther than we could walk in half a day was out of the question - but we could travel in our heads ... to Australia, Africa, America ... by sea, by air, on horseback, in helicopters, in submarines. Meeting people unlike ourselves was very rare ... but we could meet them on the page. For most of us, reading - and imagining, and dreaming - was as useful as breathing.

My parents were decent, dutiful people, and when my mother realized I had read everything the Nissen hut had to offer - most of it twice - she got me a library card for a bigger place the other side of the canal. I would head over there on a Friday afternoon after school and load up with the maximum allowed - six titles - which would make life bearable and get me through the week. Just. Which sounds ungrateful - my parents were doing their best, no question, but lively, energetic kids needed more than that time and place could offer. Once a year we went and spent a week in a trailer near the sea - no better or worse a vacation than anyone else got, for sure, but usually accompanied by lashing rain and biting cold and absolutely nothing to do.

The only thing that got me through one such week was Von Ryan's Express by David Westheimer. I loved that book. It was a WW2 prisoner-of-war story full of tension and suspense and twists and turns, but its biggest "reveal" was moral rather than physical - what at first looked like collaboration with the enemy turned out to be resistance and escape. I read it over and over that week and never forgot it.

Then almost forty years later, when my own writing career was picking up a head of steam, I got a fan letter signed by a David Westheimer. The handwriting was shaky, as if the guy was old. I wondered, could it be? I wrote back and asked, are you the David Westheimer? Turned out yes, it was. We started a correspondence that lasted until he died. I met him in person at a book signing I did in California, near his home, which gave me a chance to tell him how he had kept me sane in a rain-lashed trailer all those years ago. He said he had had the same kind of experience forty years before that. Now I look forward to writing a fan letter to a new author years from now ... and maybe hearing my books had once meant something special to him or her. Because that's what books do - they dig deeper, they mean more, they stick around forever.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4
( 627 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(301)

4 Star

(133)

3 Star

(101)

2 Star

(47)

1 Star

(45)

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 632 Customer Reviews
  • Posted September 18, 2011

    I Also Recommend:

    the affair

    As others have said, Lee Child is a superb craftsman of suspense. Can't wait to read more.

    20 out of 26 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted August 24, 2011

    more from this reviewer

    an exciting throwback tale to when the heroic vigilante was still in the Army

    In 1997 in Carter Crossing, Mississippi someone slashes the throat of twentyish Janice May Chapman by an isolated railroad track. The Pentagon is concerned that evidence points to a Ranger training in nearby Fort Kelham committed the homicide as Captain Reed Riley has connections as his father Carleton is chair of the Senate Armed Services Committee.

    Colonel Garber assigns military police officer Major Jack Reacher to go undercover to learn the truth and keep the local sheriff Elizabeth Deveraux under control without her knowing it. Each distrusts the other but soon need to protect each other's back from a dangerous cover-up as the military are uninterested in the facts; their preference is for a local hillbilly to take the rap. However, Reacher becomes incompliant when he learns Janice is the third female to have been killed by this slasher.

    The latest Reacher thriller (see Worth Dying For) is an exciting throwback tale to when the heroic vigilante was still in the Army. Ironically though going back to the case that led to his leaving the military, there is not much new added to the Reacher mythos. Still the story line is fast-paced and filled with action as Reacher learns what happens to officers doing their duty with personal courage vs. those with DC connections.

    Harriet Klausner

    13 out of 18 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted October 1, 2011

    Weak is all I can think of.

    I have read the entire Reacher series including this latest, and can't understand the 4 and 5 star ratings from anyone who has read any of his previous books.Weak character development,lame dialogue and terrible ending. No explanation as to why the culprit did what he did. If Reacher is that good an MP, he's the last soldier the Army would involuntarily discharge. Just a lazy effort on the author's part and extremely disappointing to say the least. Where has Mr. Child gone?

    9 out of 18 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted August 4, 2011

    more from this reviewer

    Jack Reacher/Lee Child fan

    I have always been a fan of this series. My favorite was The Enemy, the prequel to the series which was actually the 8th book that came out. I am looking forward to reading The Affair since I have always wanted to see Jack Reacher fall in love, really fall in love. And my long standing question for Lee Child is - when will Jack fall in love true enough to settle down? The five star rating is for all the books in the series.

    9 out of 16 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted October 30, 2011

    more from this reviewer

    It was ok

    As a fan of the Jack Reacher Series, THE AFFAIR was ok; not good, but not bad. Lee Child takes the reader back to 1997 when our intrepid loner was still an Army MP on an undercover assignment to Carter Crossing, Mississippi. His assignment is to make nice with local law enforcement and relay what they know to his superiors. A young beautiful woman has been murdered. Her throat slit. Her bloodless body left in an alley. Her suspected killer, a solder stationed at the nearby base. A soldier who has powerful friends in Washington, D.C. Reacher has no trouble making nice to Elizabeth Devereaux. She is the county Sheriff and a former Marine MP and has linked Janice Mae Chapman's killing to two other dead beauties that the soldier dated. Ever loyal to the Army, Jack Reacher knows that this case will be his last. He will not participate in a cover up to protect one soldier.

    While the story is good, the telling gets tedious. Child repeats the 1997 references too often. Normally the reader gets up close to the serial killer and sees his or her psychology.
    We don't get that here with the exception of the destroyed car. We do see, but not fully understand the puppet-master of the cover-up. The Washington ties to the soldier are strong, but would Pentagon Officers really go the extremes as Child wrote to protect one soldier? I think not. And some of Reacher's actions didn't ring true to his character, but the beginning and ending are very strong as well as the character development: finally a strong female that mirrors Jack. The midnight train and tracks become characters as well as strong suspense devices. But true Jack Reacher fans will ignore the flaws of the novel because of the good story THE AFFAIR is.

    7 out of 7 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted October 5, 2011

    Too pricey.

    Will wait for paperback.

    6 out of 21 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted October 19, 2011

    I Also Recommend:

    Intriguing!

    "The Affair" is an intriguing story of Reacher's last mission in the Army and a peek backwards remembering the past, the reluctant hero. There is action but not quite as rough as past experiences as he lands in a small town in Mississippi at an army post where he meets the stunning chief of police. This was an enjoyable and exciting ride. I recommend!

    5 out of 5 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted October 9, 2011

    more from this reviewer

    Dull and Disappointing

    A run of the mill novel which will disappoint legions of Jack Reacher fans who are used to much more. The first half of the book is tedious. The second half has the action, but credibility is so strained that the reader has a hard time buying it. I didn't get a free advance copy, nor did I need to sully the review pages because I didn't like the NOOK price.
    The Barnes & Noble review is quickly becoming a thing of little value because B&N refuses to police its review pages. Right now we'd need a Reacher for that.

    5 out of 7 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 22, 2012

    Excellent

    Worth every penny. Had me thinking at every turn. Jack reacher is a one og a kind man. Wish more like him truly existed. The plot is excellent and insights into the military complications that exist. Deveraux is a top notch addition. Hate to see her fade away.

    4 out of 5 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted September 28, 2011

    Reacher at his best

    This is a typical fast paced Reacher thriller. The story is interesting and moves along quickly and I highly recommend it to anyone who loves a good mystery.

    I've been a huge fan since I read The Killing Floor when it was first released and haven't been disappointed by any of the subsequent books.

    Give it a try and become hooked on Jack Reacher!!

    4 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 25, 2012

    Great fun read

    Loved how easy it was to read & I really liked the characters

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 25, 2011

    A Reacher Creacher's Delight

    Going into this "pre" Reacher novel, i was quite nervous and worried i would fail to enjoy a trip down Jack's memory lane i worried for nothing In fact i enjoyed The Affair more than many recent Reacher novels.

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted October 8, 2011

    What happened Mr Child?

    I was in my usual can't wait to read this next Reacher in the series, but felt the beginning of the story was looking for an interesting plot. It finally arrived and then the extensive sexual descriptions seemed over the top. Not being a prude and enjoying romantic sexual interludes in mystery stories as well as the next reader, Mr. Child left out the romance. The remainder of the story hip-hopped around and tho I finished the book, I'll not be in such a hurry for the next Reacher - especially since we pay a premium for Child's books.

    3 out of 6 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted October 3, 2011

    NOT FOR THAT PRICE!!

    I can get the hard cover book for $15, or wait for the paperback and get it for $5.59

    3 out of 14 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 6, 2011

    Reachers back

    Having read all of the Jack Reacher series it was good to see Jack back in form with his fists and the ladies. This read was exactly what 61 hours should have had more of. Although a little short on characters (Munro could have had a bigger role) Childs brought back a few names from the past. Nice job!

    2 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted July 13, 2012

    Not his best book

    This book was ok, but not Lee Child's best by any means. The shallow plot, weak motive, and inaccuracies of basic military knowledge -a major does not wear silver oak leaves, for example- suggest that he needs a more critical editor.
    I enjoyed most of the books in the Reacher series, but Lee Child's latest books have been getting progressively weaker. I will continue to read his books as long as he writes them, but he needs to get back to the substance of his first few books.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 10, 2012

    Child and Reacher - Always rhe best

    Lee Child's hero Jack Reacher is still the best out there...bar none!

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 22, 2012

    Loved it!

    You can't go wrong with Jack Reacher and this one doesn't disappoint.

    1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted February 16, 2012

    Lee Child is Back

    After a few comic-bookish, silly and pondering novels, this one by Mr Childs reconnects with all that is good with Jack Reacher. A very entertaining read.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 29, 2012

    The Affair

    Child's Jack Reacher novels are the best!

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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