Hostage (Bishop/Special Crimes Unit Series #14)

( 30 )

Overview

?Hooper?s unerring story sense and ability to keep the pages flying can?t be denied." ?Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine

New York Times bestselling author Kay Hooper returns with a novel of blood-chilling suspense as hunters become the hunted in a desperate game of survival against all odds.?

Haven operative Luther Brinkman has been sent into the wilderness of the Appalachian Mountains of Tennessee to locate escaped felon Cole Jacoby, a mentally ...

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Hostage (Bishop/Special Crimes Unit Series #14)

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Overview

“Hooper’s unerring story sense and ability to keep the pages flying can’t be denied." —Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine

New York Times bestselling author Kay Hooper returns with a novel of blood-chilling suspense as hunters become the hunted in a desperate game of survival against all odds.…

Haven operative Luther Brinkman has been sent into the wilderness of the Appalachian Mountains of Tennessee to locate escaped felon Cole Jacoby, a mentally unstable bank robber. Supposedly, Jacoby hid more than ten million dollars from his last heist before he was captured—and rather mysteriously escaped federal custody. And once Brinkman finds Jacoby, the agent is left severely wounded, with no way to convey his location to Haven.

Callie Davis, an agent with the FBI’s Special Crimes Unit, has been in the area for some time due to the foresight of her boss and unit chief, Noah Bishop. But when she finds the wounded Brinkman, her rescue mission turns into a deadly game of cat and mouse.

What neither Luther nor Callie knows is that their quarry is far more than an escaped bank robber. And that in hunting him, they will find themselves being hunted by him, and will discover him to be the worst monster either of them has ever known.

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Editorial Reviews

From Barnes & Noble

Cole Jacoby is mentally unstable, but that hasn't stopped him from pulling off lucrative bank robberies and escaping from federal custody. Luther Brinkman, an agent of the Haven investigative group, tracks him down in the Appalachians, but before he can apprehend the fugitive, he's shot and badly wounded. Fortunately, FBI Special Crimes Unit agent Callie Davis soon finds Luther, but it doesn't take long for the crime-fighting pair to discover that with some strange prey, hunters can very quickly become the hunted. An exciting offshoot series with psychic elements.

Publishers Weekly
11/11/2013
In this heavily atmospheric sequel to 2012's Haven, bestseller Hooper once again teams Noah Bishop and members of the FBI's Special Crimes Unit with Haven, a private investigative firm whose agents' special abilities blend nicely with those of Bishop's agents. The escape of bank robber Cole Jacoby during a prisoner transfer catches Bishop's attention because Jacoby apparently used psychic powers to get away from his guards. Bishop, who always knows more than he shares with his agents, already has an agent near Jacoby's suspected Tennessee mountain hideout when Haven dispatches agent Luther Brinkman to the area. SCU telepath Callie Davis and clairvoyant Brinkman connect and combine their special abilities. Meanwhile, SCU's medium Hollis Templeton and telepath Reese DeMarco are on a mission in the same area that finds them confronting numerous spirits and a vortex of evil at massive, old Alexander House. Hooper's characters have a dazzling array of psychic abilities and need them all to combat the growing evil possessing and controlling Jacoby in this modern, yet still gothic, tale. (Nov.)
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781491511107
  • Publisher: Brilliance Audio
  • Publication date: 4/1/2014
  • Series: Bishop/Special Crimes Unit Series , #14
  • Format: MP3 on CD
  • Edition description: Unabridged
  • Product dimensions: 5.25 (w) x 6.75 (h) x 0.50 (d)

Meet the Author

Kay Hooper

Kay Hooper is the award-winning, New York Times bestselling author of the Bishop/Special Crimes Unit series, including Haven, Blood Ties, Blood Dreams, and Blood Sins, and she recently launched her new series, The Bishop Files, with The First Prophet. She lives in North Carolina. Visit her at kayhooper.com, facebook.com/BishopPage, and twitter.com/KayHooper.

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Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

Tuesday

Luther Brinkman could see his breath misting before his face in the moonlight; mid-October was cold this year, even in the South. Many hardwood trees that normally showed off colorful foliage that drew tourists to the Blue Ridge were already bare-limbed and glittering with frost, and the rest boasted only dead brown leaves clinging stubbornly.

“Shit.” He paused and leaned against a big oak, grimacing as he adjusted the makeshift bandage around his upper thigh.

Would have been nice if it was at least a through-and-through. But no. I have to have a bullet grinding against bone every time I move.

Painfully against bone.

That was the way it felt, at least; he hadn’t exactly gone digging around in the wound to find out for sure. Slowing the bleeding was the best he’d been able to do. Ignoring the throbbing pain, he concentrated on controlling his breathing so he could better listen.

He couldn’t hear the dogs any longer. That was something. Whether it signaled an end to the pursuit or only a pause was the question uppermost in his mind. It was well past midnight; the bastard might well have decided that his wounded quarry wouldn’t get far, that waiting for daylight to resume the chase was his best bet.

Or to look for a carcass. Even way out here, it wouldn’t be smart to leave a dead body just lying around for the wrong person to stumble across, and he wouldn’t have been able to know just how badly he’d wounded his quarry. Not for sure.

God knew Luther was out in the middle of nowhere, in a dense wilderness that had swallowed up more than one careless hiker and quite a few federal fugitives, never to be seen again. Even with dogs and daylight, tracking someone across this treacherous terrain would be difficult; making the attempt at night was something even the locals would consider suicidal.

But he wouldn’t want to leave a body lying around.

Grim, Luther pushed himself away from the tree and continued on, using a thick broken limb he had found as a rough crutch. The terrain didn’t exactly lend itself to hobbling along with a nice, steady rhythm. Or any rhythm at all. Just keeping himself upright was taking more effort and energy than he liked given the distance he had to cover in order to reach safety: the tiny mountain town he had skirted on his way up here. He had judged it to be about five miles from Jacoby’s cabin as the crow flew.

He wasn’t a crow and couldn’t even begin to travel in a straight line, not with the treacherous terrain and all the obstacles of the dense forest. It wasn’t like it was just a gentle slope downward. There were ridges and switchbacks and deep gullies gouged out of the mountain by spring and summer rains. There were boulders taller than he was, taller than a house, and dense thickets of briars and other foliage.

Working his way past or over or around took time, and it ate up distance. The ground he’d have to cover probably included an extra mile or two at least, and that was assuming he could even last long enough to make the journey.

His mind instinctively calculated, and he tried to ignore the odds it offered him for success.

Never mind the odds. Take stock. You’re wounded, but it isn’t mortal and you can still use the leg. For now, at least. Dawn is hours away, so even if you can’t reach the town you have time to put more distance between you and the maniac with the gun and every reason to want you dead.

Okay. Not too bad.

Except that safety is . . . not close. You’ve lost a lot of blood and need medical attention. And you lost most of your gear, including the water, in that first bad fall, which was stupid but let’s not dwell on it. You have your weapon but maybe . . . what? . . . four rounds left in the clip?

The bastard would probably come after him loaded for bear.

Bears. Don’t think about bears.

They could smell blood. And hadn’t he heard something about an attempt to repopulate the area with once-threatened-with-extinction wolves? Or was that farther west?

Much farther. No wolves around here. Maybe wild dogs. Even cougars have been reported. I think. Bobcats. Certainly bears. Too early to be hibernating. I think. Damn bears.

He paused again to rest, leaning against another tree, and mentally took himself to task for letting his mind linger on things there was no sense worrying about unless and until he had to.

He had the uneasy feeling that he’d lost more blood than he had originally thought, and that was why he was having trouble focusing. Why he was light-headed and his breathing was more like panting.

Why he had to fight the urge to slide down the tree and take a real break. Maybe even a nap.

Oh, man, you are so screwed—

“Taking the scenic route?”

Haven

Maggie Garrett rubbed the nape of her neck absently, then sighed when her husband’s fingers replaced her own. “Careful, or you’ll put me to sleep,” she told him wryly.

“You need to sleep,” John Garrett replied. “By my count, you’ve been up forty-eight hours at least.”

“I took a nap.”

“Twenty minutes maybe. Not nearly enough.”

“I’m okay.”

“No, you aren’t. You’re never okay when one of your chicks is out of the nest.”

A little laugh escaped her. “One of my chicks? I think there’s a better nickname for a six-foot-four-inch former Marine. And I think he’d think so too.”

John came around the desk and rested a hip on the corner so he could face her. They were in Maggie’s office rather than the central work area of the sprawling building that was both home and business for them, and they were alone. “Haven operatives are all your chicks, especially when one comes up missing.”

“He should have checked in by now. He should have checked in hours ago.”

“Given the terrain, I doubt he could get a signal out.” John paused, then asked deliberately, “Not a conventional signal, at least. Have you sensed something else?”

Maggie frowned. “I don’t have a very strong connection with Luther. It makes him uncomfortable. He’s fine with the telepaths, but since I pick up on emotions, and he’s still buttoned up tight . . .”

“He’d rather keep his feelings to himself. Okay, I get that. With all the shit he’s been through, I doubt most people would be eager to open up. But you’re still sensing something?”

“It’s just a vague feeling that something is wrong. Sort of a ghostly echo of pain.”

“Physical pain?”

“I think so. Hard to be sure, though.”

“Then probably not mortal pain.”

“No, probably not.”

“It was a simple enough assignment,” John said, in a thoughtful tone. “Granted, our information put his target deep in the middle of nowhere, but hiking in there and finding him shouldn’t have been much trouble for Luther considering his tracking and survival skills on top of his . . . psychic radar. All he had to do was get his hands on that last car we’re certain Jacoby drove, however briefly. After that, it was only a matter of tracking him, then settling down to observe from a distance for long enough to make sure the guy wasn’t going anywhere, then withdraw and report in. We turn the information over to Nash, and he has the location of their escaped fugitive. Our job is done. The feds can go in and get him.”

“Yeah.” Maggie was still frowning.

“What?”

“Well . . . didn’t it strike you as a little odd that Agent Nash came to us?”

“He checked out,” John reminded her.

“I know he did. I know. And it made sense that, working pretty much alone out of a small field office in Tennessee, Nash didn’t have the resources to launch a manhunt when he couldn’t even narrow down the area in thousands of acres of wilderness.”

“Didn’t have the skills to do much on his own, either. He’s pretty obviously a city boy.”

Maggie nodded. “And the report from the Forest Service was clear enough; without a lot more information, they couldn’t narrow down the area enough to search effectively themselves, especially since the search dogs lost the scent about a hundred yards from that abandoned car. It was pretty much straight up a mountain from there, and what towns exist in the area are scattered, tiny, and have a well-deserved reputation for minding their own business and not being especially welcoming or forthcoming to outsiders. Especially outsiders with badges.”

“Remote doesn’t begin to describe them,” John agreed. “In an age of instant communication, they certainly do represent almost a return to simpler times.”

Shifting to betray a rare sign of unease, Maggie said, “There are reports of survivalist and militia groups in that wilderness. Very credible reports. Some of the groups have been up there for years, and they aren’t just unwelcoming to visitors; they’re actively hostile.”

“Luther has too much experience not to be able to avoid that kind of potential trouble.”

“I know, I know. But I wish now I hadn’t sent him in alone.”

“One man alone, skilled and accustomed to rough terrain, could cover the distance faster and get in and out with the least chance of being detected. We agreed, and so did Luther.”

She nodded. “Yeah, it makes perfect tactical sense. And we had to get someone in close, since none of our operatives have the ability to pick up on Jacoby from a distance.”

“It’s the sort of thing our operatives do, love. And word has spread in the last few years; we have several active cases pretty much all the time.”

Maggie finally voiced what had been nagging at her. “Why didn’t Nash go to Bishop? That would have been the natural thing for a federal agent to do, to keep it inside the FBI. Why turn to a civilian organization when he had to know about the SCU?”

“Bad blood?” John suggested after a moment. “Bishop has made more than his fair share of enemies, and at least a few inside the bureau have been heard expressing resentment over the relative autonomy the Special Crimes Unit enjoys. Or maybe Nash simply didn’t want his superiors to know he needed outside help to complete his assignment.”

With a slight grimace, Maggie said, “I’d almost rather it was the former. For a federal agent to use us and then claim the credit in locating an escaped felon is just so . . .”

“Underhanded? We always request anonymity anyway; maybe he knew that going in.”

“Maybe. Still.”

If there was anything John Garrett had learned in the last few years, it was to respect his wife’s feelings, however vague they might seem. He leaned forward to kiss her, then said, “Well, we can’t report anything to Agent Nash until Luther reports in to us. But we can call Bishop.”

Luther found himself staring down the business end of a shotgun, all too clear in the moonlight. He actually had to force himself to lift his gaze from the barrels and focus on the woman holding the weapon.

“Taking the scenic route?” she repeated, her tone calm.

The angle made it impossible for him to see her face; she wore jeans and a warm jacket with a fur-trimmed hood pulled up.

He envied her the hood; he thought his ears might be frozen.

If he’d had two solid legs under him, Luther probably would have handled the situation differently, but as it was he judged he had little choice. The light-headedness was getting worse. “Ran into a little trouble hiking,” he said.

In the same calm tone, she said, “Yeah, people run into bullets all the time in these mountains. Especially miles off the hiking trails and on private land. Posted private land. Anybody comes way up here to live, they generally prefer to be left alone.”

“A simple ‘Go away’ would have been enough.”

“That’s what the No Trespassing signs were for. Or did you manage to miss all of them?”

He decided, after backtracking a bit mentally, that he had missed the important point, and added, “How do you know it’s a bullet wound? I might have fallen or . . . something.”

“Looks like you’re about to fall on your ass,” she said. Then added, “That gun come with a badge?”

He wondered how she could see his handgun, since it was in a shoulder holster inside his zipped jacket. “Sort of.”

The barrels of the shotgun lifted until they were pointed at his face. “Either you have a badge or you don’t.”

“Private investigator,” he said, hoping he wasn’t tripping over syllables in his haste to get the words out. “Licensed. Hired to locate an escaped fugitive.”

“Escaped from where?”

“Uh . . . Virginia. Federal custody in Virginia.”

And they sent a civilian after him?”

“Not at first. I mean . . . there were state cops and FBI and maybe marshals, I dunno. Bunch of people. Tracking dogs. But he gave them all the slip. And in these mountains . . . Well, fugitives have gone missing pretty much forever.”

“So you were hired.”

“I’m good at this sort of thing,” he said, wryly aware of the irony that drove him to add, “usually.”

But all she said was, “And did you locate him?”

He had to think about that for a minute, aware of the vague notion that just because she had a gun in his face it didn’t mean he had to tell her everything. In fact, it actually meant he shouldn’t tell her anything.

Name, rank, serial number.

He remembered the drill.

“Yeah,” he heard himself say. “But I was just supposed to find him and report in, that’s all. Sneaky bastard slipped around behind me when I was waiting for it to get dark enough for me to leave without being seen. After that, I was just trying to get away from him and his dogs.”

“Cole Jacoby.”

He had the odd, fuzzy thought that she wasn’t providing information so much as probing to find out what he knew. Except . . . he also felt she didn’t have to do that. For some reason. What reason? “You know that because you’re neighbors?”

“That. There aren’t many of us up here this time of year. And I heard his dogs. Around here, we usually keep our dogs in at night—unless there’s something we need to run off.”

“Which is why you came out here?”

“I also heard shots. And the whole area is posted no hunting. Besides which, it wasn’t rifle fire I heard.”

Luther wondered why she was now aiming the shotgun above his head, and realized only then that he was sliding slowly down the tree at his back. His legs felt like rubber.

“Shots. Uh-huh. Those would have been him shooting at me, and me . . . returning fire. I wasn’t supposed to shoot him, so . . . I didn’t try to hit him. He didn’t . . . grant me . . . the same . . . courtesy.” He shook his head to try to clear his vision. “Jesus, you’re tall.”

A sigh misted in the air in front of the face he still couldn’t make out, and she lowered the shotgun until the barrels pointed downward. “No, you’re tall. And heavy. And it’s going to be a bitch getting you back to my place.”

“Are we going to your place? That . . . sounds like . . . a plan.”

“A plan that would work better if you didn’t pass out along the way.”

“Me? Pass out? Nah, I’m . . . fine. Just need to rest a little . . . while. And . . . I’ll be . . . good as . . . new.”

She bent toward him, and he tried really hard to see her face. But all he caught was the almost eerie gleam of her eyes.

You’ve got a ways to go before you’re as good as new, pal.

It was the last thing he remembered, wondering if that had been his thought—or hers.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 3.5
( 30 )
Rating Distribution

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(13)

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(6)

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 30 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted December 1, 2013

    Puzzled

    I gave this a mid review as I really didn't like it although it was well written. Nothing in the nook book description mentioned anything about this being a group of psychics with all sorts of weird powers doing their police thing. I had never read this author before and the story line sounded promising. I never would have bought it if I had known it was all psychic agents. I will avoid this author in the future and would have liked a bit of a heads up in the story description. Kat

    6 out of 9 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted August 26, 2014

    I Also Recommend:

    I really enjoy the Bishop series by Kay Hooper. Have been a fan

    I really enjoy the Bishop series by Kay Hooper. Have been a fan of hers for years. I found this book not as action packed as her other Bishop books. Seemed to repeat their physic abilities over and over. I will purchase future books by Kay Hooper. Even a bad book by her, is better than some I've tried to read. She has a very good imagination.

    4 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted January 10, 2014

    Not so good

    Kay Hooper's book are fast loosing interest for me. Too much explanation and not enough action I guess. I loved her first books in this series and the next book would have to be so much better for me to spend my money and time on it. It was a drag and I skipped thru a lot of pages just to finish the book.

    1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 28, 2013

    Too much description

    I love Kay Hooper, and I love the Bishop series. This was over the top explaining and hard to get into because of it. I figure by the time you are reading this book, you already know the details of the different types of psychics. Brief summary would have been sufficient.

    1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted December 20, 2013

    Highly Recommend

    To all of Kay Hooper's regular readers - this is another wonderfully crafted suspense book. Truly enjoyed it and purchased it for my sister so she could enjoy it also. Kay Hooper has never let me down. :)

    1 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 20, 2013

    Really, nothing much actually happens in this book beyond over d

    Really, nothing much actually happens in this book beyond over done descriptions of psychic ability in place of plot and events.  The book jumps around from character teams to others way too often, with strange footnotes that specify only precious books by the author.  The writing would be better if all of this was handled with strong description, character motives, and a plot.

    1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted August 4, 2014

    Ooops!

    Bought the Nook version... Not going to waste my time reading it, until I run out of good reading material.
    For the the book before this, in the Bishop Series, was so very disappointed in having to skip ahead in order to get to the story..
    Kay Hooper is just filling pages with so much repeated material, she has lost most of her integrity in telling a truly well written story.
    Deb U.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted June 13, 2014

    Nnn x drp

    !ie#fg

    57

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 27, 2014

    Great author and story!!

    Great author and story!!

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  • Posted April 8, 2014

    I love Kay Hooper's FBI Bishop's books. They are filled with in

    I love Kay Hooper's FBI Bishop's books. They are filled with intrigue, magic, mystery and a little romance too. I loved Callie and the connection she had with her partner (her dog) and the way they could communicate with each other. There were 2 different investigations in this one and Kay Hooper was able to make everything flow so well and both investigations were successfully completed with no loss of life for the team.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 16, 2014

    Argh

    Skim worthy

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  • Posted February 10, 2014

    Great book

    I always look forward to Kay Hoopers new books. This was one of her books that you want to keep reading but then on the other hand do not want it to end. I enjoyed every minute of reading.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 22, 2013

    Totally enjoyed

    I really enjoy the Haven/Noah Bishop series. Always waiting the next one!

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 20, 2013

    highly recommend this author

    I read all of Kay Hoopers books and am never dissappointed

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 26, 2014

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted December 27, 2013

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted December 20, 2013

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted January 24, 2014

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted December 27, 2013

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted December 1, 2013

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