Blood Orchid (Holly Barker Series #3)

( 32 )

Overview

Chief of Police Holly Barker returns in her third suspenseful adventure-along with her father Ham and Daisy the Doberman. This time, they get introduced to the cutthroat world of Florida real estate...and uncover a scam as dangerous as it is lucrative.

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Overview

Chief of Police Holly Barker returns in her third suspenseful adventure-along with her father Ham and Daisy the Doberman. This time, they get introduced to the cutthroat world of Florida real estate...and uncover a scam as dangerous as it is lucrative.

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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
In Woods's 24th novel-his third in the Holly Barker series (after Orchid Blues)-the prolific bestselling novelist revisits savvy, sexy ex-MP officer (and her dog, Daisy), now police chief of the small Florida east coast town of Orchid Beach. As the fast-paced but fluffy and rather predictable thriller begins, two out of three Miami bidders for a glitzy, gated residential complex with golf course are shot and killed. The third bidder, orchid fancier Ed Shine, a former New York real estate mogul and new resident of Orchid Beach, narrowly escapes the same fate. Shine renames his newly acquired property Blood Orchid, after an exotic hybrid blossom he has developed-a name that seems gruesomely prophetic when it turns out that the Miami mob may be involved with the property. Meanwhile, Barker, investigating the case and trying to discover who is bugging her beach house, spots the intruder's van from the plane of her flying instructor, Ginny (who is also her dad Ham's new bedmate). The two women make an emergency landing on the beach and scare the perp away, but his body is soon found floating in the Indian River. The trail leads to a shifty Cuban locksmith in Fort Lauderdale and the late intruder's fiance . Enter a Miami restaurateur with mob ties, and corpses pile up as the plot thickens. Woods writes strong action scenes, but his usual flair for tight, creative plotting is sadly missed here. Author tour. (Oct.) Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information.
Library Journal
Woods's third novel featuring Orchid Beach, FL, Chief of Police Holly Barker is a suspenseful thriller. This intriguing case begins when she and her father, Ham, visit a new friend, Ed Shine, a property developer from New York who is bidding on prime real estate that the government is selling. During the visit, Ed is shot at, and, shortly after, a body is found floating in the Intercoastal Waterway. The FBI, it turns out, is as interested as Holly, especially after she connects the two crimes. She and an agent join forces but find themselves at odds when the agent, with whom she becomes romantically involved, refuses to share information. Very persistent, Holly proceeds on her own, dealing with a mob operation in Miami and shady activities within her own jurisdiction. Woods's detailed character and plot development are quite apparent in the unabridged version, well read by Dick Hill and Susie Breck. In the abridged program, Alison Fraser captures the essence of the book and still provides a high level of suspense and entertainment. Libraries opting for the abridged set may have to repackage for circulation. Recommended for public libraries.-Steven J. Mayover, formerly with Free Lib. of Philadelphia Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780451208811
  • Publisher: Penguin Group (USA) Incorporated
  • Publication date: 5/27/2003
  • Series: Holly Barker Series , #3
  • Format: Mass Market Paperback
  • Edition description: Reissue
  • Pages: 416
  • Sales rank: 179,708
  • Product dimensions: 6.74 (w) x 4.06 (h) x 0.99 (d)

Meet the Author

Stuart Woods
Stuart Woods is the author of twenty-seven novels. He lives in Maine, Florida, and New York City.

Biography

Stuart Woods was born in 1938 in Manchester, Georgia. After graduating from college and enlisting in the Air National Guard, he moved to New York, where he worked in advertising for the better part of the 1960s. He spent three years in London working for various ad agencies, then moved to Ireland in 1973 to begin his writing career in earnest.

However, despite his best intentions, Woods got sidetracked in Ireland. He was nearly 100 pages into a novel when he discovered the seductive pleasures of sailing. "Everything went to hell," he quips on his web site "All I did was sail." He bought a boat, learned everything he could about celestial navigation, and competed in the Observer Singlehanded Transatlantic Race (OSTAR) in 1976, finishing respectably in the middle of the fleet. (Later, he took part in the infamous Fastnet Race of 1979, a yachting competition that ended tragically when a huge storm claimed the lives of 15 sailors and 4 observers. Woods and his crew emerged unharmed.)

Returning to the U.S., Woods wrote two nonfiction books: an account of his transatlantic sailing adventures (Blue Water, Green Skipper) and a travel guide he claims to have written on a whim. But the book that jump-started his career was the opus interruptus begun in Ireland. An absorbing multigenerational mystery set in a small southern town, Chiefs was published in 1981, went on to win an Edgar Award, and was subsequently turned into a television miniseries starring Charlton Heston.

An amazingly prolific author, Woods has gone on to pen dozens of compelling thrillers, juggling stand-alone novels with installments in four successful series. (His most popular protagonists are New York cop-turned-attorney Stone Barrington, introduced in 1991's New York Dead, and plucky Florida police chief Holly Barker, who debuted in 1998's Orchid Beach.) His pleasing mix of high-octane action, likable characters, and sly, subversive humor has made him a hit with readers -- who have returned the favor by propelling his books to the top of the bestseller lists.

Good To Know

Some fascinating facts about Stuart Woods:

His first job was in advertising at BBDO in New York, and his first assignment was to write ads for CBS-TV shows. He recalls: "They consisted of a drawing of the star and one line of exactly 127 characters, including spaces, and I had to write to that length. It taught me to be concise."

He flies his own airplane, a single-engine turboprop called a Jetprop, and tours the country every year in it, including book tours.

He's a partner in a 1929 motor yacht called Belle and spends two or three weeks a year aboard her.

In 1961-62, Woods spent 10 months in Germany with the National Guard at the height of the Berlin Wall Crisis.

In October and November of 1979, he skippered a friend's yacht back across the Atlantic, with a crew of six, calling at the Azores, Madeira, and the Canary Islands and finishing at Antigua in the Caribbean.

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    1. Hometown:
      Key West, Florida; Mt. Desert, Maine; New York, New York
    1. Date of Birth:
      January 9, 1938
    2. Place of Birth:
      Manchester, Georgia
    1. Education:
      B.A., University of Georgia, 1959
    2. Website:

Read an Excerpt

1

Sara Tennant arrived at her office building in downtown Miami promptly at seven forty-five a.m., as was her habit. She needed only to park her car and use the private elevator to the penthouse suite of Jimenez Properties; she would be at her desk in the little office next to that of her boss, Manuel Jimenez, when he arrived, promptly at eight o'clock, as was his habit.

As she parked her new Toyota Avalon in the reserved space, next to that of her boss, she was surprised and not a little annoyed to see that his Mercedes was already in its spot. She was going to have to start coming in earlier, she thought; she couldn't have Manny getting there before she did.

There was something odd about the Mercedes, she realized, through the fog of her recent sleep. Until she had her morning coffee, a double espresso, she would not think quickly. She sat in the Toyota with the motor still running while she tried to figure it out.

The lights, she decided. The interior lights of the Mercedes were on, and unless she turned them off, Manny would soon have a dead battery. She gathered her small briefcase, purse, coffee thermos, and the Miami Herald and struggled out of her car. She set her things down on the driver's seat and smoothed her skirt before continuing. She was looking forward to reading Carl Hiassen's column in the paper before doing any real work. She loved Hiassen, read all his novels, too, and never missed his column.

She gathered her things once again, closed the car door, and pressed the button on the remote control to lock all the doors and the trunk. Some cars had been broken into in this garage, in spite of the security cameras. She wished Manny had sprung for a garage with a manned entrance, instead of the electronic surveillance; a guard on duty made her feel safer. Embracing her belongings, she walked around Manny's car and saw immediately why the interior lights were on: the driver's door was open. She took another step or two, reaching out for the door, then she peered over the things in her arms and saw what they had concealed until now.

Manny Jimenez was lying on the garage floor in an oddly contorted position.

Heart attack! Sara thought immediately. She had taken a CPR course at her church, and she knew exactly what to do. She put her things on the garage floor, reached out to Manny, and turned him over. Manny had not had a heart attack. A heart attack did not put a hole in his head, and particularly, did not spray his blood and brains across the inside of the Mercedes door. Sara did not pause to take Manny's pulse or put her ear to his chest. He was stiff as a board, and she knew what that meant. She picked up her things and ran for the elevator. As soon as she had opened the door with her key, she was digging in her briefcase for her cellphone.

Steven Steinberg stood on the eighteenth tee of the Doral Country Club's famous course, the Blue Monster, and gazed down the fairway, utterly relaxed and confident. He had played this schmuck from New York like a violin, and now he was going to take his money. Even though Steinberg had an official handicap of six, and even though he should have carried a card that said three, he had allowed his guest to play him neck and neck for seventeen holes. They were now tied at eleven over par, and it was time to crank the handle on the cash register.

Steinberg took his stance, his right foot back a couple of extra inches, and without a practice swing, hit the ball. It started to the right, then turned over and dropped into the middle of the fairway, two hundred and seventy yards down the course.

Fleischman stared after the ball with an expression of disbelief on his face.

"Something wrong?" Steinberg asked.

"Nothing at all," Fleischman replied, teeing up. He swung mightily at the ball and sliced it into a fairway bunker, two hundred and twenty yards down the fairway. He picked up his tee. "So how come, all of a sudden, after seventeen holes, you're outdriving me?"

Steinberg shrugged. "Every now and then I really connect. Don't you, sometimes?"

"Sometimes," Fleischman said. "But not usually on the eighteenth, and not for that kind of length."

They got into Steinberg's customized golf cart. "You know what I'd do if I were you?" he said to his guest.

"No, Steven, what would you do?"

"I'd take a seven wood and go for it."

"Out of a bunker?"

"Why not? It's a shallow bunker; there's enough loft on a seven wood to carry the edge, and you'd find yourself a nice little wedge from the flag. You got a seven wood? You want to borrow mine?" At this stage, he could afford to appear to be generous.

"I've got a seven wood," Fleischman said as the cart drew to a halt next to the bunker. He looked down the fairway toward the flag, checked the depth of the bunker, and pulled his seven wood from his bag.

"Come on," Steinberg said, "you can do it."

Fleischman lined up his shot. "Keep it smooth," he muttered to himself. "Nice easy shot." He swung the club and connected beautifully with the ball. It faded a little but dropped in the fairway, maybe eighty yards from the pin.

"Great shot!" Steinberg said.

"Thanks for the tip," Fleischman replied, getting into the cart.

They stopped next to Steinberg's ball. He didn't even glance down the fairway, just went to his bag and came back with a fairway wood.

"What are you doing with that club?" Fleischman asked. "It's only a hundred and sixty yards to the flag; you'll knock it into the next county."

"This is an eleven wood," Steinberg replied, lining up on the ball. He relaxed, took a breath and let it out, and took a slow-looking, liquid swing at the ball. It rose high into the air, sailed down the fairway, past the guarding bunkers, and dropped onto the green with only a single bounce, stopping four feet from the pin.

"I'm getting one of those," Fleischman muttered.

"You should," Steinberg replied, still holding his finish.

Then Steinberg's head exploded.

For a tiny second before he screamed, Fleischman wondered if cheating at golf could make your head explode.

—Reprinted from Blood Orchid: A Holly Barker Novel by Stuart Woods by permission of G.P. Putnam's Sons, a member of Penguin Putnam Inc. Copyright © 2002, Stuart Woods. All rights reserved. This excerpt, or any parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

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Table of Contents

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First Chapter

1

Sara Tennant arrived at her office building in downtown Miami promptly at seven forty-five a.m., as was her habit. She needed only to park her car and use the private elevator to the penthouse suite of Jimenez Properties; she would be at her desk in the little office next to that of her boss, Manuel Jimenez, when he arrived, promptly at eight o'clock, as was his habit.

As she parked her new Toyota Avalon in the reserved space, next to that of her boss, she was surprised and not a little annoyed to see that his Mercedes was already in its spot. She was going to have to start coming in earlier, she thought; she couldn't have Manny getting there before she did.

There was something odd about the Mercedes, she realized, through the fog of her recent sleep. Until she had her morning coffee, a double espresso, she would not think quickly. She sat in the Toyota with the motor still running while she tried to figure it out.

The lights, she decided. The interior lights of the Mercedes were on, and unless she turned them off, Manny would soon have a dead battery. She gathered her small briefcase, purse, coffee thermos, and the Miami Herald and struggled out of her car. She set her things down on the driver's seat and smoothed her skirt before continuing. She was looking forward to reading Carl Hiassen's column in the paper before doing any real work. She loved Hiassen, read all his novels, too, and never missed his column.

She gathered her things once again, closed the car door, and pressed the button on the remote control to lock all the doors and the trunk. Some cars had been broken into in this garage, in spite of the security cameras. She wished Manny had sprung for a garage with a manned entrance, instead of the electronic surveillance; a guard on duty made her feel safer. Embracing her belongings, she walked around Manny's car and saw immediately why the interior lights were on: the driver's door was open. She took another step or two, reaching out for the door, then she peered over the things in her arms and saw what they had concealed until now.

Manny Jimenez was lying on the garage floor in an oddly contorted position.

Heart attack! Sara thought immediately. She had taken a CPR course at her church, and she knew exactly what to do. She put her things on the garage floor, reached out to Manny, and turned him over. Manny had not had a heart attack. A heart attack did not put a hole in his head, and particularly, did not spray his blood and brains across the inside of the Mercedes door. Sara did not pause to take Manny's pulse or put her ear to his chest. He was stiff as a board, and she knew what that meant. She picked up her things and ran for the elevator. As soon as she had opened the door with her key, she was digging in her briefcase for her cellphone.

Steven Steinberg stood on the eighteenth tee of the Doral Country Club's famous course, the Blue Monster, and gazed down the fairway, utterly relaxed and confident. He had played this schmuck from New York like a violin, and now he was going to take his money. Even though Steinberg had an official handicap of six, and even though he should have carried a card that said three, he had allowed his guest to play him neck and neck for seventeen holes. They were now tied at eleven over par, and it was time to crank the handle on the cash register.

Steinberg took his stance, his right foot back a couple of extra inches, and without a practice swing, hit the ball. It started to the right, then turned over and dropped into the middle of the fairway, two hundred and seventy yards down the course.

Fleischman stared after the ball with an expression of disbelief on his face.

"Something wrong?" Steinberg asked.

"Nothing at all," Fleischman replied, teeing up. He swung mightily at the ball and sliced it into a fairway bunker, two hundred and twenty yards down the fairway. He picked up his tee. "So how come, all of a sudden, after seventeen holes, you're outdriving me?"

Steinberg shrugged. "Every now and then I really connect. Don't you, sometimes?"

"Sometimes," Fleischman said. "But not usually on the eighteenth, and not for that kind of length."

They got into Steinberg's customized golf cart. "You know what I'd do if I were you?" he said to his guest.

"No, Steven, what would you do?"

"I'd take a seven wood and go for it."

"Out of a bunker?"

"Why not? It's a shallow bunker; there's enough loft on a seven wood to carry the edge, and you'd find yourself a nice little wedge from the flag. You got a seven wood? You want to borrow mine?" At this stage, he could afford to appear to be generous.

"I've got a seven wood," Fleischman said as the cart drew to a halt next to the bunker. He looked down the fairway toward the flag, checked the depth of the bunker, and pulled his seven wood from his bag.

"Come on," Steinberg said, "you can do it."

Fleischman lined up his shot. "Keep it smooth," he muttered to himself. "Nice easy shot." He swung the club and connected beautifully with the ball. It faded a little but dropped in the fairway, maybe eighty yards from the pin.

"Great shot!" Steinberg said.

"Thanks for the tip," Fleischman replied, getting into the cart.

They stopped next to Steinberg's ball. He didn't even glance down the fairway, just went to his bag and came back with a fairway wood.

"What are you doing with that club?" Fleischman asked. "It's only a hundred and sixty yards to the flag; you'll knock it into the next county."

"This is an eleven wood," Steinberg replied, lining up on the ball. He relaxed, took a breath and let it out, and took a slow-looking, liquid swing at the ball. It rose high into the air, sailed down the fairway, past the guarding bunkers, and dropped onto the green with only a single bounce, stopping four feet from the pin.

"I'm getting one of those," Fleischman muttered.

"You should," Steinberg replied, still holding his finish.

Then Steinberg's head exploded.

For a tiny second before he screamed, Fleischman wondered if cheating at golf could make your head explode.

—from Blood Orchid: A Holly Barker Novel by Stuart Woods, Copyright © October 2002, G.P. Putnam's Sons, a member of Penguin Putnam, Inc., used by permission.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4.5
( 32 )
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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 32 Customer Reviews
  • Posted December 9, 2008

    more from this reviewer

    engaging police procedural

    It has been almost a year since Jackson died and Holly has buried herself in work trying to block out the pain. The Chief of Police of Orchid Beach, a coastal town on the East Coast of Florida, is usually very quiet. However, when Holly and her father visit a new friend Ed Shine, a sniper fires a shot that almost kills him. Ed is a property developer who bid on a piece of land in Orchid Beach that the federal government is selling and the two other bidders on the property are also assassinated. <P>Holly immediately connects the dots and sees a link since the property in question was used in drug smuggling. She contacts the FBI and an agent tells her that he is sending an undercover operative into the area on a completely separate assignment. The agent and Holly hit it off but Holly is too busy dodging bullets to give their relationship a chance to grow. <P>Stuart Woods famous for his Stone Barrington private eye novels has created a whole new series with it¿s own unique voice. The Holly Barker police procedurals are fun to read because the author imbues a subtle sense of humor in many of the characters. The heroine really doesn¿t know why she keeps getting shot at yet she still manages to produce a credible investigation. Mr. Woods just keeps getting better with each book he writes. <P>Harriet Klausner

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 21, 2012

    First rate

    I love love love this entire series. I was hooked from the first book. Great detective work with engaging charaters....They are must reads

    1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted January 27, 2014

    more from this reviewer

    Blood Orchid - Holly Barker is a riveting series I must say tha

    Blood Orchid - Holly Barker is a riveting series

    I must say that I normally take to female authors, but I can certainly tell the difference between a male's writing and a female's writing, especially with this series! The subject of each book has been a more &quot;manly&quot; subject, per say, than many female authored mystery books! Which is actually a great thing for me, because it throws something new into the mix!




    I have quickly come to love the Holly Barker series, and am upset that I am halfway through it now! Typically I will wait a good while between reading books in a series, however, I have managed to read the first three books in the Holly Barker in a month's time, and I don't intend to stop until I'm finished with the last book!




    The narrators, Dick Hill and Susie Breck, really do an awesome job partnering up to read the books in this series! I appreciate having the same narrator throughout the series thus far, and especially appreciate one narrator of each gender to help distinguish between the characters! I have really come to know and love their voices and think that they do a wonderful job of reading the story! I also appreciate the music at the opening and closing of each disc! Nice extra added!
    I have really grown to like the writing of Stuart Woods, and the more I read of this series, the more I like the characters and want to know what happens with Holly Barker, the main character of this series! I appreciate that as a man, Woods was able to create one of the best female fictional characters out there! She is everything that I would want to be...strong, beautiful, independent Chief of Police who isn't afraid of what's out there or to tell anybody what she thinks or how she is going to run her town! I appreciate her bluntness and humor! I also really enjoy Ham, which I was disappointed to hear from a lot less in Blood Orchid! Instead, we meet his secret girlfriend, Jenny, which seems to be a great fit with Ham! I love the relationship between Holly and Ham!




    The plot, of a real estate scheme brings us back to Palmetta Gardens and the purchase of it by a retired New Yorker! It is definitely not a plot that you're going to read anywhere else, so I enjoyed the creativeness of the book!




    Overall, I loved Blood Orchid just as much as I have the past two books in the series, and I am going right out to get the next book in the series, Reckless Abandon. I see that it is a series combo, with Stone Barrington, so I am hoping that the fact that it is book #10 of the Stone Barrington series isn't going to damper my reading since I've not yet read any books from that series (although we briefly met him in Orchid Blues!) Until next time...

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted February 4, 2013

    I enjoy all of Stuart Woods books, they are always can't put dow

    I enjoy all of Stuart Woods books, they are always can't put down stories.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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