Immoral (Jonathan Stride Series #1)by Brian Freeman, Joe Barrett
Lieutenant Jonathan Stride is suffering from an ugly case of déjà vu. For the
In a riveting debut thriller that has drawn comparisons to masters of the genre like Dennis Lehane and Michael Connelly, Brian Freeman weaves obsession, sex, and revenge into a story that grips the reader with vivid characters and shocking plot twists from the first page to the last.
Lieutenant Jonathan Stride is suffering from an ugly case of déjà vu. For the second time in a year, a beautiful teenage girl has disappeared off the streets of Duluth, Minnesota—gone without a trace, like a bitter gust off Lake Superior. The two victims couldn’t be more different. First it was Kerry McGrath, bubbly, sweet sixteen. And now Rachel Deese, strange, sexually charged, a wild child. The media hounds Stride to catch a serial killer, and as the search carries him from the icy stillness of the northern woods to the erotic heat of Las Vegas, he must decide which facts are real and which are illusions. And Stride finds his own life changed forever by the secrets he uncovers. Secrets that stretch across time in a web of lies, death, and illicit desire. Secrets that are chillingly…immoral.
“In this compelling debut thriller, Freeman turns in a psychologically gripping, virtuoso performance, with a detective who is likely to return. He deftly lays bare the demons lurking in many of us while keeping us tantalized through a series of plot shifts. Highly recommended.” Library Journal (starred review)
“Immoral is a slick and savvy offering and the best debut mystery in quite some time.” BookPage
“[Immoral] may very well be one of the best debuts of 2005...a near pitch-perfect first novel that soars with believable characters, crisp dialogue and, for the most part, logical twists and turns...Jonathan Stride literally strides onto the page, flawed, complicated, and very appealing.” South Florida Sun-Sentinel
“In one of the more thrilling debuts to come along in a while, Freeman takes the reader on a gloriously chilling ride through a world where nothing is as it seems.” New Mystery Reader magazine
“With Stride, Freeman has created a world-weary detective with a strong moral compass and determination. Tightly written with a strong sense of place and character…a compelling read.” Dallas Morning News
“Immoral is an excellent book, filled with a masterfully complex plot with twists that makes this into a real page-turner. Look for Immoral, and when you find it do not pass by it. Brian Freeman takes suspense writing to another level. You do not want to miss this book.” ReviewingTheEvidence.com
“[B]e warned. In the manner of the finest thrillers, nothing is as it seems in Freeman's devilish story of revenge and double-cross.” Orlando Sentinel
“Breathtakingly real and utterly compelling, Immoral dishes up page-turning psychological suspense while treating us lucky readers to some of the most literate and stylish writing you'll find anywhere today.” Jeffery Deaver, author of The Twelfth Card and Garden of Beasts
“The writing is tough, muscular and shot through with such a sense of loss, torment, longing, torn innocence that it's downright Celtic in its sorrow. Just as the reader and Stride figure to have the case wrapped, there's a sucker punch you never saw coming--and it hurts wonderfully. The novel is reminiscent of Lehane, of such works as Gone Baby Gone, and Sacred, when Lehane was writing this darkest, bruised, compassionate self. Freeman's novel is one hell of a read, gut wrenching and moving, exciting and powerful. Any book that makes you want to fly to Vegas gets my bet. Stride on.” Ken Bruen, author of The Killing of the Tinkers
“Who is Brian Freeman? This guy can tell a story. Immoral is a page-turner of the highest caliber. It has enough twists and turns to keep you guessing until the end.” Michael Connelly, author of The Closers
"[Immoral] may very well be one of the best debuts of 2005…a near pitch-perfect first novel that soars with believable characters, crisp dialogue and, for the most part, logical twists and turns...Jonathan Stride literally strides onto the page
In one of the more thrilling debuts to come along in a while, Freeman takes the reader on a gloriously chilling ride through a world where nothing is as it seems.
[B]e warned. In the manner of the finest thrillers, nothing is as it seems in Freeman's devilish story of revenge and double-cross.
Breathtakingly real and utterly compelling, Immoral dishes up page-turning psychological suspense while treating us lucky readers to some of the most literate and stylish writing you'll find anywhere today.
The writing is tough, muscular and shot through with such a sense of loss, torment, longing, torn innocence that it's downright Celtic in its sorrow. Just as the reader and Stride figure to have the case wrapped, there's a sucker punch you never saw coming--and it hurts wonderfully. The novel is reminiscent of Lehane, of such works as Gone Baby Gone, and Sacred, when Lehane was writing this darkest, bruised, compassionate self. Freeman's novel is one hell of a read, gut wrenching and moving, exciting and powerful. Any book that makes you want to fly to Vegas gets my bet. Stride on.
Who is Brian Freeman? This guy can tell a story. Immoral is a page-turner of the highest caliber. It has enough twists and turns to keep you guessing until the end.
Read an Excerpt
Jonathan Stride felt like a ghost, bathed in the white spotlights that illuminated the bridge.
Below him, muddy brown swells flooded into the canal, spewing waves over the concrete piers and swallowing the spray in eight-foot troughs. The water tumbled over itself, squeezing from the violent lake to the placid inner harbor. At the end of the piers, where ships navigated the canal as delicately as thread through a needle, twin lighthouses flashed revolving beams of green and red.
The bridge felt like a living thing. As cars sped onto the platform, a whine filled the air, like the buzz of hornets. The honeycomb sidewalk vibrated, quivering under his feet. Stride glanced upward, as he imagined Rachel would have done, at the crisscross scissors of steel towering above his head. The barely perceptible sway unsettled him and made him dizzy.
He was doing what he always did--putting himself inside the mind of the victim, seeing the world through her eyes. Rachel had been here on Friday night, alone on the bridge. After that, no one knew.
Stride turned his attention to the two teenagers who stood with him, impatiently stamping their feet against the cold. "Where was she when you first saw her?" he asked.
The boy, Kevin Lowry, extracted a beefy hand from his pocket. His third finger sported an oversized onyx high school ring. He tapped the three inches of wet steel railing. "Right here, Lieutenant. She was balanced on top of the railing. Arms stretched out. Sort of like Christ." He closed his eyes, tilted his chin toward heaven, and extended his arms with his palms upward. "Like this."
Stride frowned. It had been a bleak October, with angry swoops of wind and sleet raining likebullets from the night sky. He couldn't imagine anyone climbing on top of the railing that night without falling.
Kevin seemed to read his mind. "She was really graceful. Like a dancer."
Stride peered over the railing. The narrow canal was deep enough to grant passage to giant freighters weighted down with bellies of iron ore. It could suck a body down in its wicked undertow and not let go.
"What the hell was she doing up there?" Stride asked.
The other teenager, Sally Lindner, spoke for the first time. Her voice was crabbed. "It was a stunt, like everything else she did. She wanted attention."
Kevin opened his mouth to complain but closed it again. Stride got the feeling this was an old argument between them. He noticed that Sally had her arm slung through Kevin's, and she tugged the boy a little closer when she talked.
"So what did you do?" Stride asked.
"I ran up here on the bridge," Kevin said. "I helped her down."
Stride watched Sally's mouth pucker unhappily as Kevin described the rescue.
"Tell me about Rachel," Stride said to Kevin.
"We grew up together. Next-door neighbors. Then her mom married Mr. Stoner and they moved uptown."
"What does she look like?"
"Well, uh, pretty," Kevin said nervously, shooting a quick glance at Sally.
Sally rolled her eyes. "She was beautiful, okay? Long black hair. Slim, tall. The whole package. And a bigger slut you're not likely to find."
"Sally!" Kevin protested.
"It's true, and you know it. After Friday? You know it."
Sally turned her face away from Kevin, although she didn't let go of his arm. Stride watched the girl's jaw set in an angry line, her lips pinched together. Sally had a rounded face, with a messy pile of chestnut curls tumbling to her shoulders and blowing across her flushed cheeks. In her tight blue jeans and red parka, she was a pretty young girl. But no one would describe her as beautiful. Not a stunner. Not like Rachel.
"What happened on Friday?" Stride asked. He knew what Deputy Chief Kinnick had told him on the phone two hours ago: Rachel hadn't been home since Friday. She was missing. Gone. Just like Kerry.
"Well, she sort of came on to me," Kevin said grudgingly.
"Right in front of me!" Sally snapped. "Fucking bitch."
Kevin's eyebrows furled together like a yellow caterpillar. "Stop it. Don't talk about her like that."
Stride held up one hand, silencing the argument. He reached inside his faded leather jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes that he had wedged into the pocket of his flannel shirt. He studied the pack with weary disgust, then lit a cigarette and took a long drag. Smoke curled out of his mouth and formed a cloud in front of his face. He felt his lungs contract. Stride tossed the rest of the pack into the canal, where the red package swirled like a dot of blood and then was swept under the bridge.
"Back up," he said. "Kevin, give me the whole story, short and sweet, okay?"
Kevin rubbed his hand across his scalp until his blond hair stood up like naked winter trees. He squared his shoulders, which were broad and muscular. A football player.
"Rachel called me on my cell phone on Friday night and said we should come hang out with her in Canal Park," Kevin said. "It was about eight-thirty, I guess. A shitty night. The park was almost empty. When we spotted Rachel, she was on the railing, playing around. So we ran up on the bridge to get her off there."
"Then what?" Stride asked.
Kevin pointed to the opposite side of the bridge, to the peninsula that stretched like a narrow finger with Lake Superior on one side and Duluth harbor on the other. Stride had lived there most of his life, watching the ore ships shoulder out to sea.
"The three of us wandered down to the beach. We talked about school stuff."
"She's a suck-up," Sally interjected. "She takes psychology and starts spouting all the teacher's theories on screwed-up families. She takes English, and the teacher's poetry is so wonderful. She takes math and grades papers after school."
Stride silenced the girl with a stony stare. Sally pouted and tossed her hair defiantly. Stride nodded at Kevin to continue.
"Then we heard a ship's horn," he said. "Rachel said she wanted to ride the bridge while it went up."
"They don't let you do that," Stride said.
"Yeah, but Rachel knows the bridge keeper. She and her dad used to hang out with him."
"Her dad? You mean Graeme Stoner?"
Kevin shook his head. "No, her real dad. Tommy."
Stride nodded. "Go on."
"Well, we went back on the bridge, but Sally didn't want to do it. She kept going to the city side. But I didn't want Rachel up there by herself, so I stayed. And that's where--well, that's where she started making out with me."
"She was playing games with you," Sally said sharply.
Kevin shrugged. Stride watched Kevin tug at the collar around his thick neck and then caught a glimpse of the boy's eyes. Kevin wasn't going to say exactly what happened on the bridge, but he clearly was embarrassed and aroused thinking about it.
"We weren't up there very long," Kevin said. "Maybe ten minutes. When we got down, Sally--she wasn't..."
"I left," Sally said. "I went home."
Kevin stuttered on his words. "I'm really sorry, Sal." He reached out a hand to brush her hair, but Sally twisted away.
Before Stride could cut short the latest spat, he heard his cell phone burping out a polyphonic rendition of Alan Jackson's "Chattahoochee." He dug the phone out of his pocket and recognized the number for Maggie Bei. He flipped it open.
"Bad news, boss. The media's got the story. They're crawling all over us."
Stride scowled. "Shit." He took a few steps away from the two teenagers, noting that Sally began hissing at Kevin as soon as Stride was out of earshot. "Is Bird out there with the other jackals?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah. Leading the inquisition."
"Well, for God's sake, don't talk to him. Don't let any reporters near the Stoners."
"No problem, we're taped off."
"Any other good news?" Stride asked.
"They're playing it like this is number two," Maggie told him. "First Kerry, now Rachel."
"That figures. Well, I don't like déjà vu either. Look, I'll be there in twenty minutes, okay?"
Stride slapped the phone shut. He was impatient now. Things were already moving in a direction he didn't like. Having Rachel's disappearance splashed over the media changed the nature of the investigation. He needed the TV and newspapers to get the girl's face in front of the public, but Stride wanted to control the story, not have the story control him. That was impossible with Bird Finch asking questions.
"Keep going," Stride urged Kevin.
"There's not much else," Kevin said. "Rachel said she was tired and wanted to go home. So I walked her to the Blood Bug."
"The what?" Stride asked.
"Sorry. Rachel's car. A VW Beetle, okay? She called it the Blood Bug."
Kevin's face was blank. "Because it was red, I guess."
"Okay. You actually saw her drive off?"
"And she specifically told you she was going home?"
"That's what she said."
"Could she have been lying? Could she have had another date?"
Sally laughed cruelly. "Sure she could. Probably did."
Stride turned his dark eyes on Sally again. She hooded her eyes and looked down at her shoes, her curls falling over her forehead. "Do you know something, Sally?" Stride asked. "Did you maybe go see Rachel and tell her to lay off Kevin here?"
"Then who do you think Rachel would have gone to see?"
"It could have been anyone," Sally said. "She was a whore."
"Stop it!" Kevin insisted.
"Both of you stop it," Stride snapped. "What was Rachel wearing that night?"
"Tight black jeans, the kind you need a knife to cut yourself out of," Sally replied. "And a white turtleneck."
"Kevin, did you see anything in her car? Luggage? A backpack?"
"No, nothing like that."
"You told Mr. Stoner that she made a date with you."
Kevin bit his lip. "She asked if I wanted to see her on Saturday night. She said I could pick her up at seven, and we could go out. But she wasn't there."
"It was a game to her," Sally repeated. "Did she tell you to call me on Saturday and lie to me? Because that's what you did."
Stride knew he wasn't going to get any more out of these two tonight. "Listen up, both of you. This isn't about who kissed who. A girl's missing. A friend of yours. I've got to go talk to her parents, who are wondering if they're ever going to see their daughter again, okay? So think. Is there anything else you remember from Friday night? Anything Rachel did or said? Anything that might tell us where she went when she left here or who she might have seen."
Kevin closed his eyes, as if he were really trying to remember. "No, Lieutenant. There's nothing."
Sally was sullen, and Stride wondered if she was hiding something. But she wasn't going to talk. "I have no idea what happened to her," Sally mumbled.
Stride nodded. "All right, we'll be in touch."
He took another glance out at the looming blackness of the lake, beyond the narrow canal. There was nothing to see. It was as empty and hollow as his world felt now. As he pushed past the two teenagers and headed to the parking lot, he felt it again. Déjà vu. It was an ugly memory.
Meet the Author
BRIAN FREEMAN is a veteran business writer and marketing executive. Immoral, his first novel, has been selected by Bookspan as International Book of the Month and will be published in more than ten countries. He and his wife live in Minnesota.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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Book had me great read u will never guess end already started book 2 my new fave author
This is one of the best books I have read all year. I finished the book in 2 days and couldn't turn the pages fast enough. I loved the ending!!I highly recommend this book!
After really enjoying Cold Nowere and Spilled Blood, I thought I had found a great new author that really knew how to develop his characters and tell great stories. That was before I read Immoral. I was very disappointed that the author fell into the trap that seems to plague too many of today's writers. At least in this book, he has allowed over the top graphic sex, vile language and violence to overshadow an otherwise good story. I really hope that Freeman returns to his previous style that uses sex and violence in moderation to compliment the story and not the other way around. Will
I am a fan of mystery novels and when I heard about this book on the radio last summer I decided to check it out. No regrets! This is by far the best mystery novel I have read to date. If books had ratings (which I think they should), I would rate this M for a mature audience. Brian Freeman has become one of my favorite authors. I have read 3 of his books and plan on reading them all.
This is the first book in the Minnesota Detective Jonathan Stride series. Rachael, a teenage age girl, has gone missing, and all the circumstantial evidence seems to point to murder. Though another teen girl went missing a year earlier, Stride and his partner, Maggie Bei, don't see any connection between the two girls disappearances. Unfortunately, Rachael seems to be a sexual tease, with no compassion for anyone. There is no body, but Stride and Maggie have found enough evidence of a murder to go to trial. Once in court, things begin to fall apart. More information about Rachael's background adds suggestions of greater intrigue to come. I really enjoyed the developing turns and twists with this book, though the unnecessary overly explicit sex scenes were overdone for me, and really detracted from the building suspense. I'll definitely be giving this series another try, hoping it will be kept within the mystery genre, without spilling over into too much into erotica.
After reading Brian Freeman's first novel, "Immortal," I went out and bought his other novels, "Stripped," "Stalked," and am starting "In the Dark." I honestly could not put them down once I started reading. His characters are real and engaging, his descriptions of Las Vegas, and Minnesota are right on. You feel like you're right there in the middle of the action. I highly recommend them if you like good, action, character driven, thrilling novels. Glad I lucked into picking up that first novel.
I thought this book was a wonderfully well-weaved tale of mystery, murder & mayhem. I¿m an avid reader of mystery novels and while I truly enjoy the settings, detective characters and so on - I have always prided myself on figuring out the 'guilty party' early in a book. Not so with this piece of entertainment. At various stages along the way I had it ¿figured out¿ only to discover later that I full of beans and I learned what I wanted to know only when it¿s crafty author let me. This masterpiece provided me with hours of entertainment and it was so infused with twists and turns that I constantly felt as if I were riding a rollercoaster of emotions and intrigue. Be warned that it is an addictive page turner. The dishes & laundry can and will wait. Time spent reading this one is time well spent. Period.
I completely agree with Teddy's 2005 review. The ending was disappointing, which is a pity. Freeman really had a good one going. He should have avoided Vegas. That's when his story became as unreal and tawdry as Vegas itself.
Mystery had good aspects to it. Too bad the author was not talented enough to carry the story without reducing the female gender to 'just male entertainment.'.
Seems everyone has an opinion about Rachel Deese. Her next-door neighbor Kevin Lowry has stars in his eyes just for her. His girlfriend, Sally, thinks Rachel is a ¿suck-up,¿ among other things. Rachel¿s mother finds her threatening. And just what her step-father thinks about her may never be known. But what police Lieutenant Jonathon Stride is thinking is what¿s important right now. Rachel Deese is missing. Brian Freeman¿s novel, IMMORAL, is an attempt to unravel the crime behind Rachel¿s disappearance. And it¿s not an easy crime to unravel. The victim was a wild child. Rude, self-centered, self-serving, vile, and sexually charged, she had so many enemies ¿ so many whom she had wronged or whom had felt threatened by her ¿ it proves to be a mystery not just anyone can solve. Lips are tight and tension is high. Can even a seasoned detective such as Stride break through to the truth? It would seem that he would be unable to. After all, Rachel¿s disappearance isn¿t the first of her kind in recent months. Stride is still trying to answer to the unsolved mystery of Kerry McGrath, another sixteen-year-old who vanished under similar circumstances. He has to somehow manage to fend off the press and their public accusations about his ineptitude, and still keep his mind on a case that¿s just not adding up. Will he ever find Rachel? Will the mystery be solved? IMMORAL is a fast-paced novel, filled with so many twists and turns there¿s no way the reader can be bored. The ending is a true surprise, as the mystery is solved and the culprit is the most unlikely (yet still believable) suspect. Jonathon Stride is a likeable character, and his partner Maggie a real fireball of loveable energy. The other characters, most of whom are dark, a bit sinister and roundly unlovable, are certainly believable, giving some real credibility to the story. The story, too, is believable and entertaining. A rollercoaster of a story, IMMORAL is not necessarily a quick read, but it is a good one, one that I¿d recommend.
Not as good as I hoped it would be. The plot lost momentum during the last third and the sexual scenes became more frequent as though the author had to compensate for the thin resolution of the mystery.
WELCOME TO SNOWCLAN! Our territory is up in the mountains, with a lake and lots of trees around. There is lots of snow and some birds of prey, so we keep to the inside of a cave. My name is Stridestar, and I was a kittypet for a very long time. See this red collar round my neck? I walked all the way up here from the south with my big brother, Dirkles. He was killed by a black wolf before he could even think up a decent warrior name other than Orangeeyes, and I still mourn his loss. Although I do have a best friend John, but he prefers to stay a kittypet. I've invited him more than once, and maybe with your help we can get him to stay! I really want him to join.