Dead Even

( 59 )

Overview

When faced with the choice of saving your own life or the life of the person you love the most, how do you choose?

Sara Tote, a Manhattan assistant D.A. is very much in love with her defense attorney husband, Jared, but is on the verge of losing her job. So her colleagues coerce her into taking a case marked for the star prosecutor in hopes of securing her future at the D.A's office. But the case is far more complicated--and deadly--than it first appears. Sara receives a threat:...

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Overview

When faced with the choice of saving your own life or the life of the person you love the most, how do you choose?

Sara Tote, a Manhattan assistant D.A. is very much in love with her defense attorney husband, Jared, but is on the verge of losing her job. So her colleagues coerce her into taking a case marked for the star prosecutor in hopes of securing her future at the D.A's office. But the case is far more complicated--and deadly--than it first appears. Sara receives a threat: Win the case, or Jared will be killed. And it gets worse. Jared is strong-armed into defending the prime suspect, and he too is instructed to win at all costs or risk Sara's death. In court and at home, husband and wife go head-to-head while harboring the terrible secret of their motives. In a battle of rollercoaster emotions and painful betrayals, Jared and Sara must face the unthinkable truth: No matter who wins, the other dies.

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Editorial Reviews

From Barnes & Noble
When a young and inexperienced Manhattan prosecutor named Sara Tate takes on a more-than-it-seems burglary case, she comes face-to-face with her husband, Jared, who works for a powerful New York law firm. The trial turns into a deadly affair when Sara is warned that if she fails to win, Jared will be killed. Trouble is, Jared's been given a similar ultimatum
Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly
Just when you thought there were no more changes to be rung on the legal thriller, Meltzer follows up his bestselling inside look at the Supreme Court ("The Tenth Justice") with this sleek, suspenseful, only slightly unbelievable story about two young New York lawyers in love and in danger. Sara Tate and Jared Lynch are married to each other and to their legal careers: he's a rising star for the defense in a big firm; she's just starting as an assistant district attorney after six months of job seeking. On her first day, Sara hears that a budget cut could put her back on the unemployment lines, so she swipes a burglary case earmarked for a top man in the pecking order. But this is more than a routine burglary, and a powerful villain named Oscar Rafferty wants it to go away. He hires Jared to defend the accused, a sadistic monster called Tony Kozlow, telling him that unless Kozlow walks, Sara dies. While Jared grapples with the moral issues involved, and avoids telling Sara about the threat for hundreds of pages, another nasty type (whose fingerprints match several dead criminals) pushes Sara's grandfather down a flight of subway stairs and says he'll do worse to Jared unless Kozlow is convicted. Fearing for each other's safety, their marriage cracking under the strain, Sara and Jared joust in front of a grand jury and then get ready for trial, with Sara helped over some serious speed bumps by a nicely sketched young assistant and a tough prosecutor with a romantic interest. Several murders and a subway shoot-out eventually resolve this somewhat overlong but definitely compelling tale of legal and extralegal adventure.
Library Journal
After months of searching, Sara Tate has finally found a job as an assistant district attorney in New York City. But on her first day, she gets notified that, owing to budget cuts, she is going to be terminated--unless she can land and win a big case. Through some sleight-of-hand, Sara manages to grab the perfect case, but there's a catch: her husband, Jared, is the defense attorney. Dark humor (provided chiefly by Sara's trial preparatory assistant, Guff), legal action like Grisham, and nail-biting suspense make this a thriller in the true sense of the word. Meltzer (The Tenth Justice, LJ 2/15/97) gives the reader well-rounded characters; demonizing neither prosecution nor defense, he shows both as human beings doing a job.--Alicia Graybill, Lincoln City Libs., NE
Kirkus Reviews
A very aptly titled gripper (received too late for a full review) that will have Grisham slapping his wife's wrist in pique over the breakfast toast when he discovers Meltzer's plot for his second novel ("The Tenth Justice", 1997). Attorney Jared Lynch's Manhattan firm takes on the defense of a psychopath and hands the case over to Jared, who soon finds that he'll die if he loses this case. Meanwhile, in the assistant district attorney's office, Jared's wife Sara has the same case passed down to her and a similar stricture applies: She'll also die if she loses. And further, although prosecutor and defense attorney sleep together, the law forbids any trading of information between them, despite the lethal warnings that neither can tell the other about. To top all this off, author Meltzer is an attorney himself, which lends the novel's dialogue a sparkling undercurrent of real-life chitchat, not to mention the mutual saber-sharpening that readers will quickly pick up on and enjoy as a bonus.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780446607339
  • Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
  • Publication date: 3/28/1999
  • Format: Mass Market Paperback
  • Pages: 560
  • Product dimensions: 4.25 (w) x 6.75 (h) x 1.25 (d)

Meet the Author

Brad Meltzer
BRAD MELTZER

Brad Meltzer is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Book of Fate, as well as the bestsellers The Tenth Justice, Dead Even, The First Counsel, The Millionaires, The Zero Game, and The Book of Lies.

He is also one of the co-creators of the TV Show, "Jack & Bobby" – and is the Eisner Award-winning author of the critically acclaimed comic book, Justice League of America.

His first non-fiction book, Heroes for My Son, is a collection of heroes – from Jim Henson to Rosa Parks – that he'd been working on since the day his son was born. This December, he'll be launching "Brad Meltzer's Decoded" on the History Channel. And his newest thriller, The Inner Circle, will be released on January 11, 2011.

Raised in Brooklyn and Miami, Brad is a graduate of the University of Michigan and Columbia Law School. The Tenth Justice was his first published work and became an instant New York Times bestseller. Dead Even followed a year later and also hit the New York Times bestseller list, as have all six of his novels. The First Counsel came next, which is about a White House lawyer dating the President's daughter; then The Millionaires, which is about two brothers who steal money and go on the run. The Zero Game is about two Congressional staffers who are – literally – gambling on Congress. The Book of Fate is about a young Presidential aide, a crazed assassin, and the 200-year-old code created by Thomas Jefferson that times them together. For authenticity, The Book of Fate was researched with the help of two former Presidents, Clinton and Bush. His last book, The Book of Lies, is about the missing murder weapon that Cain used to kill Abel, as well as the unsolved murder of Superman creator Jerry Siegel's father. Brad is one of the only people to interview Jerry Siegel's family about the murder and, with his charitable site, OrdinaryPeopleChangeTheWorld.com, has been the driving force behind the movement to repair the house where Superman was created.

His books have spent over ten months on the bestseller lists, and have been translated into over 25 languages, from Hebrew to Bulgarian. In The Tenth Justice, the opening lines are: "Ben Addison was sweating. Like a pig." In the Hebrew translation, it became: "Ben Addison was sweating. Like a horse." We're not sure if it's a Kosher thing or what!

Brad has played himself as an extra in Woody Allen's "Celebrity," co-wrote the swearing-in oath for AmeriCorps, the national service program, and earned credit from Columbia Law School for writing his first book, which became The Tenth Justice. Before all of that, he got 24 rejection letters for his true first novel, which still sits on his shelf, published by Kinko's.

Brad currently lives in Florida with his wife, who's also an attorney.

Biography

Brad Meltzer didn't hope all his life to become a novelist. He came to it by chance, after a job at Games magazine didn't pan out. "I had no idea what to do," he says. "So I did what all of us would do in that situation. I said, 'I'm gonna write a novel.'" After one false start, a book called Fraternity that 24 publishers rejected, Meltzer hit his stride. In 1997, The Tenth Justice (which earned him extra credit as a student at Columbia Law School) was picked up by Morrow and hit The New York Times bestseller list. A year later, he repeated the performance with Dead Even. He's been writing bestselling legal thrillers ever since.

Critics like Meltzer's fast pace and nifty plots (Kirkus called The Tenth Justice "a mean, paranoid fantasy that'll have you turning pages in a frenzy," and USA Today said it "reads fast, rings true, and refreshingly breaks the mold of legal thrillers"), but it's the details that distinguish his novels from most legal fiction. The key, he says, is "Research, research, research," a task that can consume two to six months of his year-long writing schedule.

In addition to his thrillers, Meltzer is a bestselling author of critically acclaimed comic book series like Identity Crisis, Green Arrow, and Justice League. He has also written short stories, television scripts and nonfiction articles, including reviews of The Sopranos, the multiple Emmy Award-winning TV show.

Good To Know

Meltzer played himself as an extra in Woody Allen's Celebrity.

He lives in Florida with his wife, a high-school sweetheart to whom he devotes a lengthy essay on his web site.

With his friend Steve Cohen, Meltzer conceived Jack and Bobby, a critically acclaimed television program about two young brothers (not the Kennedys), one of whom grows up to be President of the United States. Cohen and Meltzer wrote all 22 episodes of the show, which was cancelled after one season. Widely considered a premier example of intelligent, high-quality TV, the series has since become a cult favorite.

Meltzer spoke with former presidents Bill Clinton and George H.W. Bush in order to accrue authentic details for his 2006 novel The Book of Fate, a thriller set in the world of White House politics.

A major plot element in The Book of Lies (2008) is the unsolved murder in 1932 of Mitchell Siegel, whose son Jerry created the iconic comic book hero Superman. Meltzer, himself a rabid comics fan, interviewed the Siegel family to research the murder.

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    1. Hometown:
      Florida
    1. Date of Birth:
      1970
    2. Place of Birth:
      New York, New York
    1. Education:
      B.A., University of Michigan; J.D., Columbia University
    2. Website:

Read an Excerpt

"What if it's a disaster?" Sara asked as she got into bed.

"It's not going to be a disaster," Jared said. "You're going to be great."

"But what if I'm not? What if I'm just average? Maybe that's what they were trying to tell me. Maybe that's the lesson."

"There's no lesson, and you've never been average," Jared said, joining his wife under the covers. "It's just your first day of work. All you have to do is show up and be yourself." He shut off the lamp on his nightstand and reached for the nearby alarm clock. "What time do you want to wake up?"

"How about six-thirty?" Sara paused. "Actually, make it six-fifteen." She paused again. "Five forty-five. Just in case the train's running late."

"Shhhh, take a deep breath," Jared said. He propped himself up on his elbow. "It's okay to be nervous, but there's no reason to get nuts."

"I'm sorry. I just —"

"I know," he said, taking her hand. "I know what's riding on this one — I remember what happened last time. I promise you, though, you're going to be great."

"You think so?"

"Absolutely."

"You really think so?"

"Sara, from this moment on, I'm choosing to ignore you."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

Jared pulled one of the pillows from behind his head and held it over Sara's face. "I refuse to acknowledge that question."

"Does that mean we're done talking about work?" Sara asked, her laughs muffled by the pillow.

"Yes, we're done talking about work." Jared straddled his wife, keeping the pillow on her face.

"Uh-oh, someone's getting kinky." Sara tried to pull the pillow away, but she felt Jared press down even harder. "C'mon, that's not funny," she said. "It's starting to hurt."

"Stop whining."

"What?"she asked.

He didn't respond.

"I'm serious, Jared. I can't breathe."

She felt him moving forward on her chest. Her left shoulder was suddenly pinned back by his knee. Then her right.

"Jared, what're you doing?" She grabbed his wrists and dug her nails into his arm.

He only pressed down harder.

"Jared, get off me! Get off me!" Her body was convulsing now, violently trying to knock him from his perch. As her nails tore at his arms and legs, her lungs lurched for air. But all he did was hold tight. She wanted to stop fighting, but she couldn't. Choking on her own tears, she called out his name. "Jaaared!" she sobbed. "Jaaared!"

Jolted awake, Sara shot up in bed. Her face was covered in sweat and the room was silent. Jared was asleep next to her. Just a dream, she told herself, trying to stop her heart from racing. It's okay. But as she put her head back on the pillow, she couldn't let it go. Even more than the others, this one felt real. Her fears, his response, even his touch. All so real. It wasn't about Jared, though, she told herself. It was about work. To prove it to herself, she pressed her body up against her husband and wrapped an arm around his chest. He felt warm under the covers. Clearly, it was about work. She took a deep breath and squinted at the clock on Jared's nightstand. Two more hours, she realized. Only two more hours.

"Here's what I want," Jared said to the redheaded man behind the counter at Mike's Deli. "A sesame bagel with most, but not all, of the seeds scraped off, a light schmear of cream cheese, and a coffee — very light, with one spoon of sugar."

"That's nice, dear," Sara said. "While you're at it, why don't you just ask him to suck the nougat out of the Snickers?"

"Don't give him any ideas." The man behind the counter started on Jared's order. "In my whole life, I've never seen a man who gave more instructions for a stinking bagel and coffee. You'd think it was a work of art or something."

"Mikey, by the time you're done with it, it will be," Jared said with a wink.

"Don't suck up to me," Mikey said. He turned to Sara. "Now what does the normal half of the family want?"

"Whatever you want to get rid of. Just make it exciting-nothing plain."

"See, now that's why you're my favorite," Mikey sang. "No headache, no pain-in-the-ass demands, just normal, considerate —"

"Are you the manager?" a gray-haired woman with large glasses interrupted.

"That I am," Mikey said. "Can I help you?"

"I doubt it. I just want to register a complaint." She pulled a coupon from the pocket of her LOVE IS A PIANO TEACHER book bag and thrust it across the counter. "This coupon says that I get one dollar off a box of original flavor Cheerios. But when I checked the shelves, I saw that you're out of this item and that the coupon expires tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we're a very small store with limited space. If you want, you're welcome to use the coupon on the other flavors of Cheerios. We have multigrain, and honey-nut, and —"

"I don't want any other Cheerios. I want these Cheerios!" the woman shouted, causing everyone in the small grocery store to turn and look. "And don't think I don't know what you're doing. When you print up these flyers with the coupons, you hide all the items in the back room. That way we can never redeem them."

"Actually, ma'am, we just don't have the space to —"

"I don't want to hear your excuses. What you're doing is false advertising! And that means it's illegal."

"No, it's not," Sara and Jared said simultaneously.

Surprised, the woman looked over at the couple, who were still waiting for their bagels. "Yes, it is," she insisted. "When he sends out those coupons he's making an offer for his products."

"Hate to break it to you, but an advertisement isn't an offer," Sara said.

"Unless it specifies an exact quantity or indicates exactly who can accept it," Jared added.

"Uh-oh," a man in line behind Sara and Jared said. "I smell lawyers."

"Why don't you both mind your own business?" the woman snapped

."Then why don't you leave our friend alone?" Sara said.

"I didn't ask for your opinion."

"And our friend didn't ask to be talked down to like he was a piece of garbage," Sara shot back. "Now, as a Cheerios lover myself, I can appreciate your frustration, but we don't go for that kind of unpleasantness here. Instead, we've taken a new approach: It's called acting civilly to each other. I can understand if you don't want to participate, but that's the way we play it. So if you don't like it, why don't you make like a coupon and disappear."

As Jared fought to contain his laughter, the woman sneered at Mikey. "You'll never see me in this establishment again," she seethed.

"I'll live," Mikey said.

With a sniff, the woman turned and stormed out of the store. Mikey looked over at his two favorite customers. "Make like a coupon and disappear?"

"What can I say? I was under pressure."

"It did get her to leave," Jared pointed out.

"You're right about that," Mikey agreed. "Which means breakfast's on me."

Fifteen minutes later, Sara and Jared were crammed in the middle of a packed-to-capacity subway car. Sara was dressed in her best navy-blue pantsuit, while Jared wore a frayed Columbia Law sweatshirt and a pair of jogging shorts. A long-distance runner since his early years in high school, Jared still had his athletic build, although a small bald spot on the back of his head made him feel far older than he looked. With his suit packed neatly in a trifolding backpack, he began every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday with a half-hour run. "That's not a bad way to start the day," Jared said, pressed tightly against his wife. "Your first day on the job and you already have a victory."

"I don't know," Sara said as the train pulled away from the Fifty-ninth Street stop. "There's a big difference between cranky piano teachers and actual criminals. And if past performance is any indication, this job is going to be an even bigger loser than the last one."

"One stupid incident at one hotshot law firm means nothing about your value in the job market."

"But six months of looking — c'mon, Jared."

"I don't care, you're going to be great." Sara rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that look," Jared added. "I know what you're thinking and it's not true."

"Oh, so now you think you can read my mind?"

"I don't think I can read your mind — I know I can read your mind."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay, then, lover boy, take your best shot. What's going through my panicky little brain?"

Jared closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "I see great unrest. Great neurosis. No, wait — I see a handsome, brilliant, casually dressed husband. My, my, my, is he a good-looking one. . . ."

"Jared. . . ."

"That's his name — Jared! My God, we're sharing the same vision."

"I'm serious. What if this job doesn't work out? The article in the Times. . . ."

"Forget about the Times. All it said was that the mayor was announcing budget cuts. Even if it leads to layoffs, that doesn't mean you're going to be fired. If you want to be safe, though, you can call Judge Flynn and — "

"I told you last night, I'm not calling him," Sara interrupted. "If I'm going to stay here, I want it to be because I deserve it, not because someone called in a favor."

Jared didn't argue the point further. Since they had first met, Sara never wanted special treatment — no professional favors, no help. Her independent streak ran deep: When Jared's uncle had offered to put in a good word so she could get an interview at his law firm, Sara had refused. To Jared, her logic was irrational and counterproductive. But Jared thrived on connections; Sara despised them. "I'm sorry I even brought it up," he finally said. "Besides, if this job doesn't work out, you can always find another."

Copyright ) 1998 by Brad Meltzer

Read More Show Less

First Chapter

"What if it's a disaster?" Sara asked as she got into bed.

"It's not going to be a disaster," Jared said. "You're going to be great."

"But what if I'm not? What if I'm just average? Maybe that's what they were trying to tell me. Maybe that's the lesson."

"There's no lesson, and you've never been average," Jared said, joining his wife under the covers. "It's just your first day of work. All you have to do is show up and be yourself." He shut off the lamp on his nightstand and reached for the nearby alarm clock. "What time do you want to wake up?"

"How about six-thirty?" Sara paused. "Actually, make it six-fifteen." She paused again. "Five forty-five. Just in case the train's running late."

"Shhhh, take a deep breath," Jared said. He propped himself up on his elbow. "It's okay to be nervous, but there's no reason to get nuts."

"I'm sorry. I just --"

"I know," he said, taking her hand. "I know what's riding on this one -- I remember what happened last time. I promise you, though, you're going to be great."

"You think so?"

"Absolutely."

"You really think so?"

"Sara, from this moment on, I'm choosing to ignore you."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

Jared pulled one of the pillows from behind his head and held it over Sara's face. "I refuse to acknowledge that question."

"Does that mean we're done talking about work?" Sara asked, her laughs muffled by the pillow.

"Yes, we're done talking about work." Jared straddled his wife, keeping the pillow on her face.

"Uh-oh, someone's getting kinky." Sara tried to pull the pillow away, but she felt Jared press down even harder. "C'mon, that's not funny," she said. "It's starting to hurt."

"Stop whining."

"What?" she asked.

He didn't respond.

"I'm serious, Jared. I can't breathe."

She felt him moving forward on her chest. Her left shoulder was suddenly pinned back by his knee. Then her right.

"Jared, what're you doing?" She grabbed his wrists and dug her nails into his arm.

He only pressed down harder.

"Jared, get off me! Get off me!" Her body was convulsing now, violently trying to knock him from his perch. As her nails tore at his arms and legs, her lungs lurched for air. But all he did was hold tight. She wanted to stop fighting, but she couldn't. Choking on her own tears, she called out his name. "Jaaared!" she sobbed. "Jaaared!"

Jolted awake, Sara shot up in bed. Her face was covered in sweat and the room was silent. Jared was asleep next to her. Just a dream, she told herself, trying to stop her heart from racing. It's okay. But as she put her head back on the pillow, she couldn't let it go. Even more than the others, this one felt real. Her fears, his response, even his touch. All so real. It wasn't about Jared, though, she told herself. It was about work. To prove it to herself, she pressed her body up against her husband and wrapped an arm around his chest. He felt warm under the covers. Clearly, it was about work. She took a deep breath and squinted at the clock on Jared's nightstand. Two more hours, she realized. Only two more hours.

"Here's what I want," Jared said to the redheaded man behind the counter at Mike's Deli. "A sesame bagel with most, but not all, of the seeds scraped off, a light schmear of cream cheese, and a coffee -- very light, with one spoon of sugar."

"That's nice, dear," Sara said. "While you're at it, why don't you just ask him to suck the nougat out of the Snickers?"

"Don't give him any ideas." The man behind the counter started on Jared's order. "In my whole life, I've never seen a man who gave more instructions for a stinking bagel and coffee. You'd think it was a work of art or something."

"Mikey, by the time you're done with it, it will be," Jared said with a wink.

"Don't suck up to me," Mikey said. He turned to Sara. "Now what does the normal half of the family want?"

"Whatever you want to get rid of. Just make it exciting -- nothing plain."

"See, now that's why you're my favorite," Mikey sang. "No headache, no pain-in-the-ass demands, just normal, considerate --"

"Are you the manager?" a gray-haired woman with large glasses interrupted.

"That I am," Mikey said. "Can I help you?"

"I doubt it. I just want to register a complaint." She pulled a coupon from the pocket of her LOVE IS A PIANO TEACHER book bag and thrust it across the counter. "This coupon says that I get one dollar off a box of original flavor Cheerios. But when I checked the shelves, I saw that you're out of this item and that the coupon expires tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we're a very small store with limited space. If you want, you're welcome to use the coupon on the other flavors of Cheerios. We have multigrain, and honey-nut, and -- "

"I don't want any other Cheerios. I want these Cheerios!" the woman shouted, causing everyone in the small grocery store to turn and look. "And don't think I don't know what you're doing. When you print up these flyers with the coupons, you hide all the items in the back room. That way we can never redeem them."

"Actually, ma'am, we just don't have the space to --"

"I don't want to hear your excuses. What you're doing is false advertising! And that means it's illegal."

"No, it's not," Sara and Jared said simultaneously.

Surprised, the woman looked over at the couple, who were still waiting for their bagels. "Yes, it is," she insisted. "When he sends out those coupons he's making an offer for his products."

"Hate to break it to you, but an advertisement isn't an offer," Sara said.

"Unless it specifies an exact quantity or indicates exactly who can accept it," Jared added.

"Uh-oh," a man in line behind Sara and Jared said. "I smell lawyers."

"Why don't you both mind your own business?" the woman snapped.

"Then why don't you leave our friend alone?" Sara said.

"I didn't ask for your opinion."

"And our friend didn't ask to be talked down to like he was a piece of garbage," Sara shot back. "Now, as a Cheerios lover myself, I can appreciate your frustration, but we don't go for that kind of unpleasantness here. Instead, we've taken a new approach: It's called acting civilly to each other. I can understand if you don't want to participate, but that's the way we play it. So if you don't like it, why don't you make like a coupon and disappear."

As Jared fought to contain his laughter, the woman sneered at Mikey. "You'll never see me in this establishment again," she seethed.

"I'll live," Mikey said.

With a sniff, the woman turned and stormed out of the store. Mikey looked over at his two favorite customers. "Make like a coupon and disappear?"

"What can I say? I was under pressure."

"It did get her to leave," Jared pointed out.

"You're right about that," Mikey agreed. "Which means breakfast's on me."

Fifteen minutes later, Sara and Jared were crammed in the middle of a packed-to-capacity subway car. Sara was dressed in her best navy-blue pantsuit, while Jared wore a frayed Columbia Law sweatshirt and a pair of jogging shorts. A long-distance runner since his early years in high school, Jared still had his athletic build, although a small bald spot on the back of his head made him feel far older than he looked. With his suit packed neatly in a trifolding backpack, he began every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday with a half-hour run. "That's not a bad way to start the day," Jared said, pressed tightly against his wife. "Your first day on the job and you already have a victory."

"I don't know," Sara said as the train pulled away from the Fifty-ninth Street stop. "There's a big difference between cranky piano teachers and actual criminals. And if past performance is any indication, this job is going to be an even bigger loser than the last one."

"One stupid incident at one hotshot law firm means nothing about your value in the job market."

"But six months of looking -- c'mon, Jared."

"I don't care, you're going to be great." Sara rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that look," Jared added. "I know what you're thinking and it's not true."

"Oh, so now you think you can read my mind?"

"I don't think I can read your mind -- I know I can read your mind."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay, then, lover boy, take your best shot. What's going through my panicky little brain?"

Jared closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "I see great unrest. Great neurosis. No, wait -- I see a handsome, brilliant, casually dressed husband. My, my, my, is he a good-looking one...."

"Jared...."

"That's his name -- Jared! My God, we're sharing the same vision."

"I'm serious. What if this job doesn't work out? The article in the Times...."

"Forget about the Times. All it said was that the mayor was announcing budget cuts. Even if it leads to layoffs, that doesn't mean you're going to be fired. If you want to be safe, though, you can call Judge Flynn and --"

"I told you last night, I'm not calling him," Sara interrupted. "If I'm going to stay here, I want it to be because I deserve it, not because someone called in a favor."

Jared didn't argue the point further. Since they had first met, Sara never wanted special treatment -- no professional favors, no help. Her independent streak ran deep: When Jared's uncle had offered to put in a good word so she could get an interview at his law firm, Sara had refused. To Jared, her logic was irrational and counterproductive. But Jared thrived on connections; Sara despised them. "I'm sorry I even brought it up," he finally said. "Besides, if this job doesn't work out, you can always find another."

"No. No way," she insisted. "My psyche's taken enough of a beating."

"That's exactly what I was about to say," Jared backpedaled. "No more psyche-beating for you. They're going to love you here, and they're going to realize you're a genius, and unlike Winick and Trudeau, they're never going to fire you. Starting today, they're going to fan you with giant feathers and baby-fresh-scent perfumes. You're not going to have to worry about the budget cuts and the butterflies will never swarm in your stomach."

"Let me ask you something," Sara said with an affectionate smile. "Do you really believe all the noise that comes out of your mouth?"

"I'm a defense attorney. That's my job."

"Yeah, well you're making the rest of us lawyers look bad."

"You're not a lawyer anymore -- starting today, you're a DA."

"And that means I'm not a lawyer?"

"Once you go to the district attorney's office, you become a vampire. All you'll care about is arresting and convicting innocent people."

"Says the man who helps guilty criminals go free."

"Says the self-righteous DA."

"Says the man who will never again have sex with his wife."

Jared laughed as the train pulled into the Fiftieth Street stop. "Says the woman who is always right and never wrong and should never again be doubted."

"Thank you," Sara said.

He kissed her then -- a lingering kiss. "You're going to miss your stop," she said, pulling away. The doors of the train closed.

"Don't worry," Jared said. "Today I'm taking it downtown."

"You have some work in court?"

"No," he said with a grin. "I just want to check out a new jogging path. I figure I'll start at the courthouse and work my way back to the office."

"Wait a minute. You're going to run an extra thirty blocks just so you can walk me to work?"

"It's your first day, isn't it?"

She couldn't help but smile. "You don't have to do that."

"I know," Jared said.

When the number nine train arrived at Franklin Street, Sara and Jared got off and joined the throngs of commuters who filled New York's overcrowded streets. The September morning was warm and bright and as close to sunny as the Manhattan skyline allowed. "All set?" Jared asked.

"All set," Sara said. "They have no idea what they're in for."

"There we go -- that's what I like to hear."

"In fact, if I get any more excited, I may get in another fight just for fun."

"Okay, hon, but no more than two a day."

"I promise," she said. "That's my limit."

Jared gave his wife a quick kiss, then took one last look at the woman he loved. When they first met, he was captivated by her deep green eyes and expressive eyebrows -- he thought they made her attractive in an understated way. He also loved the fact that she wore no makeup except for a stroke of blush. Remembering the moment, Jared turned away and started his jog to work. "Good luck!" he called out over his shoulder as he headed up West Broadway. "And don't forget: You're smarter than everyone!"

Watching her husband wave good-bye, Sara laughed at how goofy he was. And within a minute of leaving him, she also realized how wrong he was. Now Sara was alone. And the butterflies were swarming.

Tucking a stray curl behind her ear, Sara tried to get her bearings. She was the only still point in a flood of people, all in dark suits, all with briefcases, all in a hurry. All lawyers, she thought. Steeling herself with a tightened jaw, she headed forcefully toward Centre Street. "Kill the butterflies. Kill the butterflies. Kill the butterflies," she whispered to herself.

* * * * * * *

At 80 Centre Street, the drab brick building that was home to the Manhattan District Attorney's Office, Sara followed her mental map toward the elevators at the back of the building. As she headed down the dark marble hallway, what seemed like an army of men and women in navy-blue suits pushed past her at a frantic pace. A man carrying an armful of files bumped into her and continued on his way. A woman in a pin-striped suit chased him. "Don't forget -- we have the Schopf hearing at two!" she yelled. Another man, pushing a small cart full of files, wove his way through the morning crowd shouting, "Late for court! Late for court!" Frenzied and bleary-eyed, some of them looked like they hadn't slept in days. But if there was any doubt that being an assistant DA was one of the most sought-after jobs in the city, one needed only to look at the six-month waiting list to interview for the position.

Watching each of the tiny operas that played out around her, Sara felt her panic give way to excitement. After six long months, the law was once again animated and alive. This was why she wanted to work in the DA's office -- her old law firm, with its rafts of blasé young associates in Italian suits, never had anything like this vitality. To some, it was chaos. But to Sara, it was the biggest lure of the job.

On the seventh floor, Sara passed through a metal detector and walked down a wide hallway with faded blue industrial carpet that reminded her of her old junior high school. Following the room numbers as she searched for her office, Sara couldn't help but notice that plastic dry-cleaning bags hung from every available hook and decorated almost every single coatrack in the twisting hallway. Not a good sign for free time, she thought as she reached room 727. The room number was painted on the translucent glass window of the heavy oak door, and no one was sitting at the desk outside the office. Feeling no need to wait, Sara opened the door and stepped inside.

Her office was exactly what she expected: a large metal desk; a Formica credenza that held an outdated computer; a Leatherette desk chair; two metal folding chairs; two large metal filing cabinets; a bookcase filled with New York statutes, sentencing guidelines, and other legal books; and a coatrack, with dry cleaning hanging on one of the hooks. Typical government office.

"Sara Tate, right?" A stocky young man entered the office.

"That's me," she said. "And you are...."

"I'm Alexander Guff -- your TPA." Noticing the blank look on Sara's face, he added, "Trial prep assistant."

"Which means?"

"Which means I do whatever you need me to do. At the very least, I'm your secretary. But if you want to take me under your wing, I'm your assistant, your right-hand man, your boy Friday, the Jimmy Olsen to your Superman, the Watson to your Holmes...."

"The Captain to my Tennille?"

"Yeah, something like that," Guff said with a laugh. Guff was short and stocky, with bushy black hair that reminded Sara of a Brillo pad. His round face and pug nose were accentuated by his slouched posture, which made him look like he had a slight humpback. "I know what you're thinking," Guff said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "No, I don't have a hump -- this is just the way I stand. I'm a nervous kid and this is an outward symptom of my internal anxieties. And just so you know, I also like to stuff my hands in my pockets. It helps me think."

"Whatever makes you happy," Sara said with a shrug.

"See, I can already tell I like you," Guff said. "You see it, you say it, you let it rest. That's a good sign. We'll get along."

"Are you always this blunt?" Sara asked.

"This is just the way I am. Sometimes people like it, sometimes I creep people out."

"So that's the nutshell, huh?" Sara asked, taking a seat at her desk. "I'm the new boss and you're the witty assistant?"

"Do I look that obvious to you?" Guff asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down opposite her.

"I haven't decided yet. Keep talking." She wanted to ask him about the budget cuts, but she still wasn't sure if she could trust him. And she wasn't about to open up quite so fast. "How long have you lived in the city?" she added, trying to get more information.

"Only since I graduated from college, which makes a little over two years. Personally, I'd prefer living at home and saving some money, but I'm in the process of revolting against my suburban upbringing."

"Oh, you are?" Sara asked doubtfully. "And you're doing this how? By working in the DA's office?"

"Of course not. I'm doing it by just existing. I mean, look at me. With this posture and this messy clump of hair, would you know that my father is a doctor? That my mom drives carpool?"

"Give me a break," Sara said. "You sound just like my husband."

"So the ring's for real, huh?" Guff asked.

"Real for six years." She tapped her platinum-and-gold wedding band against her desk.

"See, that's just my luck," Guff said. "All the good ones are taken. I can never meet someone who's on her own, who isn't a psycho, who doesn't want to set fire to my futon, who --"

"Who digs suburban anarchists who think they're much more rebellious than they are?"

Leaning back in his seat, Guff laughed.

"No offense, Guff, but the entire female population is not plotting against you."

"Tell that to my Beatles collection and my missing stereo. I mean, my life is proof to the contrary."

"Uh-oh, chronic paranoia. Does that mean you're also a conspiracy nut?"

"Depends how you define nut. I'm not a fan of the overused conspiracies that Hollywood keeps recycling, but I do believe there are some unexplained phenomena we can't answer. For example, take your typical deck of cards. If you add up the number of letters in the words ace, two, three, four, all the way up to jack, queen, and king, you get the number fifty-two -- the same as the number of cards in every deck."

Sara paused a moment. "So?"

"Secret code, baby. Believe the hype." Sara shook her head, amused. "Don't blame me -- it's all in the upbringing."

"With that, I actually agree."

"Of course you do -- we're all the product of our families. That's why you have to tell me about yours. Do you have any brothers or sisters? Are your parents crazy-insane like mine -- "

"My parents were both killed during my first year of law school," Sara interrupted, stopping Guff in midsentence. "They were on their way back from a day trip to Connecticut when they hit a patch of ice," Sara explained. "Their car slid across the road and plowed into an oncoming van. They died instantly."

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to --"

"It's okay," Sara said, forcing confidence into her voice. "You couldn't have known."

"But I --"

"Guff, please don't worry about it. Everyone on this planet has a memory they'd rather not recall. We just happened to hit mine early. Now let's move on -- we were having a good time."

Noticing the embarrassed look in Guff's eyes, Sara realized he was genuinely upset. It was clear he felt awful that he'd hurt her. That was all Sara needed to see. This was a good guy. Now she could open up. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "Any word around the office about that article in yesterday's Times?"

"You saw that, huh?"

"It's not good, is it?"

Guff paused. "Maybe you should go see Monaghan," he said, referring to the district attorney.

"Don't do that, Guff. If you know something, tell me."

"All I know is the mayor's trying to shrink the number of city employees by announcing across-the-board budget cuts for all city offices."

"Does that mean I'm going to be fired?"

"I don't know about you specifically, but when layoffs hit in this office, the last ones in are always the first ones out. And since the moment I walked in this morning, the office rumor mill's been buzzing like crazy -- according to a guy on the elevator, all the new hires are supposed to be automatically on notice."

"No one's told me a thing."

Guff pointed to the metal tray on Sara's desk. "That's why they call it an in-box. I'm sorry, Sara."

Sara snatched up the single sheet of paper and read through a memorandum addressed to the entire staff of the Manhattan District Attorney's Office. According to the memo, the mayor's recent announcement "will require us to reevaluate our current staff size. In keeping with the historical precedents of this office, decisions will be made proportionately among support staff, trial assistants, and attorneys. While these decisions will be difficult for all involved, we expect that this period of reorganization will not interfere with the day-to-day operations of this office."

"I can't believe this," Sara said, her voice cracking. "I can't lose this job."

"Are you okay?" Guff asked.

"I'm fine," she said, unconvincingly. "I just don't understand it. Why now?"

"Are you kidding? We have an election coming up next year. The mayor's no dummy -- he knows big government is out. And by not favoring one department over another, he'll look efficient, fair, and industrious all in a day's work. It's a political coup."

Sara put her hands behind her neck, trying to massage away the tension. As she tried to organize her thoughts, her mind was reeling. This was even worse than she expected -- a wrecking ball against her ego. Why is it happening again? she wondered. Why isn't it ever easy? Feeling self-pity wash over her, Sara remained silent.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your day so quickly."

For a long minute, Sara didn't say a word. But when she realized that she couldn't just sit there and sulk, self-pity slowly gave way to defiance. What would Jared do? she asked herself. No, don't do it like that. This isn't his. It's yours. It's yours and it's not so bad, she thought. You've been through worse. Much worse. At least here, it's not final. At least here you're not alone. At least here you can use your brain. That's what he said: You're smart. You're smarter than everyone. Looking up at Guff, Sara broke her silence. "When do you think Monaghan's going to take action on the memo?"

"Probably a week or two. Why?"

"I want to know how much time I have."

"Sounds like you have a plan."

"Not at all. But it took me six months to get this job, so I'm not losing it without a brawl."

Impressed by his boss's determination, Guff asked, "Then what do we do now?"

"You tell me," Sara said. "You're the one who works here."

"All I know is you have to be in orientation until lunch, and I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon, so we probably can't get started on a solution until tomorrow."

"Terrific," she said, glancing at the clock on the wall. She looked back at Guff. "What do you think my chances are?"

"My honest opinion?"

"Of course."

"Then let me put it this way: If I were a betting man...." He paused.

"What? Tell me."

"I'd put my money on another horse."

It was only one in the afternoon when Sara arrived back at her office, but her face was already showing signs of exhaustion. Although the four-hour orientation session was supposed to be a simple and informative introduction to the DA's office, Sara spent every hour of it worrying about who would be the first to go. Still trying to figure out the answer, she collapsed in her seat. Before she could even catch her breath, the phone rang.

"This is Sara," she answered.

"Well?" Jared asked. "How is it? I've been calling all morning, but you haven't been there."

"That's because within my first hour of work, I found out I'm going to be fired."

"You were fired?"

"Not yet -- but Monaghan announced layoffs this morning and everyone thinks I'll be the first to go."

"Says who?"

"Says my assistant...."

"What does your assistant know?"

"...and my orientation leader," Sara continued, "and the woman who helped me fill out my paperwork, and the attorney I had to cross-examine during my mock trial, and the four other lawyers I met in the...." Her voice broke and her eyes welled up with tears. "I'm not like you, Jared -- it doesn't all work out for me. That's why people think I'm such a failure."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Jared interrupted. "No one thinks you're a failure. This isn't anything personal -- it's a budget cut."

"But you know what comes next," Sara said. "More job searching, more interviews, more rejection letters...."

"Shhhhhh, calm down," Jared said. "You're going to be great."

"The only one who thinks that is you."

"That's not true. Pop called me first thing this morning to ask if you won your first case yet."

"Jared, you're talking about my grandfather. He's not exactly an unbiased source."

"It doesn't matter. You're still going to be fantastic."

"No, I'm not. I'm not prepared for --"

"Hunter College, magna cum laude."

"Big deal -- it's a small city school."

"What about Columbia Law School?"

"My parents paid the dean to get me in."

"No, they didn't," Jared said. "And even if they did, didn't you do well there?"

"I guess." Sara shot from her seat and walked around to the front of her desk. "Damn, why am I feeling so sorry for myself? I sound like I'm in high school. Change the subject. What's going on there?"

"Nothing," Jared said. "I'll tell you about it later."

Sara raised an eyebrow. "Tell me about it now."

"It's not that important."

Something was wrong. "Jared, you better not be doing what I think you're doing."

"Which is what?"

"Which is hiding good news just because you're worried about me."

"I'm not hiding anything. It's not even that big a --"

"See, I knew it. I knew that's what you were doing. Now spill it."

Reluctantly, Jared gave in. "When I was coming back from lunch, Wayne came up to me and told me I was, quote, 'on the right track.'"

"Wayne?" Sara asked, excited. "As in Thomas Wayne? Did he say when they'd vote on you?"

"The general consensus is that I'll be up for partner within the next six months -- depending on how much business I bring in."

"That's fantastic," Sara said.

Jared didn't respond.

"Don't tell me you're still worried about bringing in business," she added.

"That's why I didn't want to bring this up now...."

"Jared, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I can handle two things at once. Now stop hiding and start talking. What about the list we made? Who's left on that?"

"No one -- I tried them all. Our alumni associations, the chamber of commerce, the synagogue, the church, the Ninety-second Street Y, the Democrats, the Republicans, the Kiwanis Club, the Rotary Club, the Toastmasters -- if they have a newsletter, I've put an ad in it; if they have a meeting, I've sat in on it. I just don't understand why it's not working."

"Honey, I know you're not used to being human like the rest of us, but it's okay to admit that something's actually a challenge. That doesn't mean it's your fault."

"I disagree. There's got to be something I'm overlooking. Maybe I should dress a little more casually next time -- just so they don't feel like it's a hard sell."

"You never stop, do you?"

"Not until I figure it out. There's always a solution."

"Now you're suddenly bold?"

"I'm always bold."

"Jared, the only reason you wear your slacks uncuffed is because your dad still does."

"That has nothing to do with a lack of boldness. The uncuffed look is elegant. It's flawless. It's in."

"No offense, dear, but you have no idea what's in. And if it wasn't for me, you'd be equal on all sides."

"Are you calling me a square?"

"All I'm saying is, we're no closer to solving the problem."

Just then, Guff entered her office. "Who wants to save their job today?" he sang.

"Give me one second," Sara said to Guff, putting her hand over the mouthpiece. "Jared, I really should run."

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Hopefully," she answered. "And by the way, thanks again for listening."

"Are you kidding? That's my pleasure."

Sara put down the phone and looked up at her assistant.

"I asked a question, campers: Who wants to save their job?"

"What're you doing here?" Sara asked. "I thought you had a doctor's appointment."

"I just heard Transportation's letting three hundred people go, so I decided to cancel it. If this thing is moving as quick as I think it is, I couldn't let you twist in the wind."

"And how'd you know I wouldn't be out at lunch?"

"Once again, I must thank that wicked queen I call deductive reasoning. I figured if you were serious about staying on board, you'd be back here, pulling your hair out. And judging by the redness of your eyes, I'm right."

"You're pretty smart for a suburban kid."

"All life's lessons can be learned at the mall. Now are you ready to start? I think I know how you can save your job."

"You do?" Sara asked.

"We'll never know if we sit here all day."

Sara threw Monaghan's memo in the garbage. "Guff, I really appreciate you canceling your appointment. You didn't have to do that."

"Listen, this morning you treated me like an equal, and that means a lot to me. Considering I usually get crapped on by most of the women I meet, that's enough to keep me loyal for life. Now let's get out of here."

Sara followed Guff to the door. "Where are we going?"

"To the courthouse across the street. If you want to be an ADA, you have to get a case."

CHAPTER ONE CONTINUES.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4
( 59 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(24)

4 Star

(17)

3 Star

(9)

2 Star

(4)

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(5)

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 59 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted October 2, 2005

    You Won't Stop

    Warning: do not read this book if you have anything else to do¿ You will not be able to put this book down. You will read from page 1 to the end without stopping. You will sleep wondering if Oscar Rafferty plans of follow through with his threat to kill Jared¿s wife if Jared does not get Rafferty¿s dirty criminal acquitted. You will dream about the dead criminal whose finger prints are found at the scene of Sarah¿s grandfather¿s death and, whether or not he plans to peruse his threat of killing Jared if Sarah does not convict. You will eat thinking about how Sarah plans to keep her job and her husband¿s life intact. You will bite your nails wondering if their marriage can survive the strain of each trying to win the case, and trying to keep each other alive. As the story unfolds you will find yourself more and more into the story line and wondering who will come out of this lethal story alive. Getting to know the characters and the suspense of their lives being in jeopardy, will reel you in. By the end of the novel you will be begging Sarah and Jared to tell each other their predicament, and to escape the country as soon as they can. You will be left wondering if Jared betrays his loving wife for the dark side (the criminal side) or if Sarah betrays her husband by breaking the law and going through his case information. You won't be able to put the thought away that maybe the two end up killing each other in the battle to save each other. I absolutely loved this novel. The brilliance of Brad Meltzer keeping the readers attention on every page truly shows through. You WILL NOT put the book down, no matter what you have to do consequently getting nothing done, other than the reading of this fabulous novel. As the tale unfolds and you get a grip on what influence each character has on another, your mind will be blown away. Discovering that the coincidences are actually NOT coincidences will rattle your every bone. I enjoyed every aspect of this novel, and did not once want to put it down. His intelligence and unique writing make this book very interesting and fun to read. I certainly plan to read all of Meltzer¿s novels.

    3 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted March 19, 2012

    Highly Recommended

    kept me spellbound... some of the twist and turns were not typical; I could not see them coming; have read almost all of Brad's books.. this was one of the best!

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 23, 2009

    Dead Even

    As all of Brad Meltzer's books, his are extremely easy to read. They keep your interest from cover to cover. You find yourself unable to put the book down. Toward the end, you don't put it down until you have finished the book. I enjoyed the book and look forward to his next one. Hopefully I won't have long to wait. I recommend this to lovers of mysteries and legal stories.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted October 5, 2002

    Stop it, already!

    This was one of the most annoying and confusing books I've ever read with the most stupid leading characters. You had to keep saying to yourself, "Why don't they...?" A good mystery gives its reader a reasonable chance to solve it. Not this one. The endless onslaught of new suspects made me not even care who done it!

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 28, 2001

    What am I missing?

    Highly preposterous. This story is completely unbelievable. Every turn throughout the book seems to betray any type of legal education that Meltzer has. Both main characters are entirely unlikable and hard to root for in both of their selfish desire to climb their ladder and/or save themselves, despite threats on their blessed loved one's lives. Excessively formulaic and highly predictable, Guff is the only saving grace in the whole book, even if his schtick does get old by the end. And the end gets even worse. Save your time and read something else.

    1 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 21, 2014

    Great book

    This is an excelent book

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted August 10, 2013

    Lorrie

    SLOW, forced myself to finish reading. Dont reccomend.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted January 14, 2013

    Ghoststorm

    Ghoststorm is a mysterious tom with unnatural purple eyes. He has a strange ability that allows him to turn invisible and go through walls in the moonlight.

    0 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted January 12, 2013

    Nighteye

    Can i join? Im a black she cat with a dark grey paw named nighteye

    0 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 10, 2013

    C I join

    I am Twistedfoot. My forepaw is complealty twisted all around but the bone isn't broken, only twisted. I can move in but I can never make in untwisted without cripling myself. I am ao bipolar, random, sarcastic, and is funny.

    0 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 10, 2013

    Stormkit

    A grey fluffy tom kit padded in." I'm Stormkit. Could I join?"

    0 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 10, 2013

    Diamondkit

    Hi, I'm Diamondkit. I am gray with white paws and a white diamond right above my clear blue eyes. I am swift and love to fight but I am also compassionate. I have awsome senses and would be a great addition to your clan! Can I join?

    0 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 12, 2013

    Crowwings

    Cool

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 14, 2013

    Silverpetal

    Hi Everyone!! I think you all can join but its up to the leader...

    0 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted November 7, 2010

    more from this reviewer

    great book, great plot

    the story was great...so were the characters... definetly a must read. only complaint was the use of honey/hun...it was too much...

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted July 7, 2010

    more from this reviewer

    Dead On

    This is the second time that I read this book and I still loved it. The plot though far fetched was never dull. It had numerous twist and turns and when you think you have it figured out everything changes. Kept this book to read again because of only fair reviews and usually donate after second reading unless execeptional. Is now on preorder for paperbacks and am curious how well it will do. Will check reviews the next time I read. Definitely worth reading.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 27, 2009

    Very Good!

    I really enjoyed this book. I liked how the storyline went back and forth between the husband and wife. Very entertaining, a must read. --K--

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 3, 2004

    Suspenseful

    I thought the book was very entertaining. It keeps you hooked. A great read.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 8, 2002

    Total suspense. keeps you hooked.

    Meltzer is really great plotting this first rate book! I simply had to find out how the ending was going to be. A great writer. Rivals Grisham and equal to Turow.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 24, 2001

    For better or worse till death we do part.....

    This was a great read ,I couldn't put it down. A great plot.

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