Backfire (FBI Series #16)

Backfire (FBI Series #16)

4.0 185
by Catherine Coulter
     
 

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San Francisco Judge Ramsey Hunt, longtime friend to FBI agents Lacey Sherlock and Dillon Savich, is presiding over the trial of Clive and Cindy Cahill – accused in a string of murders – when the proceedings take a radical turn. Federal prosecutor Mickey O'Rourke, known for his relentless style, becomes suddenly tentative in his opening statement,

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Overview

San Francisco Judge Ramsey Hunt, longtime friend to FBI agents Lacey Sherlock and Dillon Savich, is presiding over the trial of Clive and Cindy Cahill – accused in a string of murders – when the proceedings take a radical turn. Federal prosecutor Mickey O'Rourke, known for his relentless style, becomes suddenly tentative in his opening statement, leading Hunt to suspect he’s been threatened – suspicions that are all but confirmed when Hunt is shot in the back.

Savich and Sherlock receive news of the attack as an ominous note is delivered to Savich at the Hoover Building: YOU DESERVE THIS FOR WHAT YOU DID.  Security tapes fail to reveal who delivered the tapes.  Who is behind the shooting of Judge Ramsey Hunt?  Who sent the note to Savich? And what does it all mean?  Savich and Sherlock race to San Francisco to find out…watching their backs all the while.

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
Bestseller Coulter’s overwrought 16th thriller featuring husband-and-wife FBI agents Dillon Savich and Lacey Sherlock (after 2011’s Split Second) pits the couple against a ruthless killer with an agenda that starts with the nonfatal shooting of Judge Ramsey Hunt outside his waterfront San Francisco house. A slew of lawmen seek the judge’s shooter, including SFPD Lt. Virginia Trolley, FBI agent Harry Christoff, and U.S. Federal Deputy Marshal Eve Barbieri, who comb for clues and link the shooting to the murder trial of Clive and Cindy Cahill, over which Hunt was presiding. Grilling the Cahills yields a slim lead regarding someone named “Sue.” Meanwhile, Hunt survives another attempt on his life while he’s recuperating in the hospital. Coulter mixes romance, strong family ties, narrow misses, and narrower escapes as well as some twists that strain credulity to the breaking point. Series fans will applaud the strong female leads and the nifty teamwork of Savich and Sherlock. Agent: Robert Gottlieb, Trident Media Group. (July)
Library Journal
Here's Coulter in FBI thriller mode, as tough federal prosecutor Mickey O'Rourke suddenly turns to jelly at the trial of putative serial killers Clive and Cindy Cahill, then gets shot in the back. FBI agents Lacey Sherlock and Dillon Savich receive the news at the same time that Savich gets a note saying, "You deserve this for what you did." Go, thriller fans.

Product Details

ISBN-13:
9780399157325
Publisher:
Penguin Group (USA)
Publication date:
07/10/2012
Series:
FBI Series, #16
Pages:
416
Sales rank:
623,300
Product dimensions:
6.20(w) x 9.00(h) x 1.80(d)
Age Range:
18 Years

Read an Excerpt


1

Sea Cliff, San Francisco

Late Thursday night One week before Thanksgiving

Judge Ramsey Hunt listened to the lapping water break against the rocks below, a sound that always brought him back into himself and centered him. He stood at this exact spot every night and listened to the waves, as unending and as infinite as he knew he wasn’t. Only the sound of the waves, he thought. Otherwise, it was dead silent, not even a distant foghorn blast from the huge cargo ship that was nearing the Golden Gate through a veil of low-lying fog.

A light breeze ruffled the tree leaves and put a light chop on the ocean below. It was chilly tonight. He was glad Molly had tossed him his leather jacket on his way out. A week before Thanksgiving, he thought, a week before he would preside over the turkey carving and feel so blessed he’d want to sing, which, thankfully, he wouldn’t.

Ramsey looked up at the low-hanging half-moon that seemed cold and alien tonight. His ever-curious son, Cal, had asked him if he could sink his fingers into the pitted surface. Would it be hard, like his wooden Ford truck, he wondered, or soft like ice cream?

At least his day had ended well. In the late afternoon, he’d met Molly and the twins at Davies Hall to hear Emma rehearse Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue with the San Francisco Symphony, smiling and nodding as they listened. Ramsey had long thought of her as his own daughter, and here she was, a prodigy, of all things. He had to be careful or he’d burst with pride, Molly always said. Remarkably, Cal and Gage hadn’t raised too much of a fuss at having to sit still during the rehearsal. Well, Cal did yell out once, “Emmy, I want you to play ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’!” which had brought warm laughter from the violin section.

They’d enjoyed enchiladas and tacos an hour later at La Barca, the family’s favorite Mexican restaurant on Lombard, always an adventure when the three-year-old twins were anywhere near chips and guacamole.

Ramsey rested his elbows on the solid stone fence built when his boys had reached the age of exploration a year and a half ago. Better than nightmares about them tumbling off the sixty-foot cliff into the mess of rocks and water below.

He looked out across the entrance to the bay at the Marin Headlands, as stark and barren as the half-moon above them. Soon the winter rains would begin to green things up, as green as Ireland in some years, his second favorite place on earth after San Francisco. It was a blessing that this incredible stretch was all a national recreational area so he would never have to look at some guy sipping a nice fruity Chardonnay across from him on a condo balcony. He noticed a Zodiac sitting anchored below him, nearly as still as a small island in the ocean. There were no other boats around it that he could see. Who would be out so late, anchored in open water? He saw no one aboard, and for a moment, he felt alarmed. Had someone fallen overboard? No, whoever motored over in the Zodiac could easily have swum or waded to the narrow beach. But why? Not to get a suntan, that’s for sure. He wondered if he should call 911 when he heard Molly open the family room door behind him. “Goodness, it’s cold out here. I’m glad you’re wearing your jacket. Is your favorite sea lion talking to you again?”

Ramsey smiled. Old Carl, that was the name he’d given this giant of a sea lion that liked to laze about in the water below. He hadn’t seen Old Carl in several days now. He called back, “He’s probably at Pier Thirty-nine, stretched out on the barges with his cousins. What’s up?”

“Gage had a nightmare. Can you come and tell him the spinach monster isn’t lurking in his closet? He doesn’t believe me.”

He turned to her, grinning. “Be right there—”

Molly heard a shot, cold and sharp as the moon, and saw her husband slammed violently forward by a bullet. Molly’s scream pierced the night.

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