Intent to Killby James Grippando
“[A] tight, twisty thriller….Hums along like a sizzling fastball thrown straight and sure.”
Bestselling author James Grippando is back with a gripping stand-alone thriller. Intent to Kill electrifies from the first inning on—as a fallen baseball star-turned-sports/em>/p>/p>/em>
“[A] tight, twisty thriller….Hums along like a sizzling fastball thrown straight and sure.”
Bestselling author James Grippando is back with a gripping stand-alone thriller. Intent to Kill electrifies from the first inning on—as a fallen baseball star-turned-sports radio “shock jock” tries to expose a conspiracy and outwit a killer. Crackling with Grippando’s trademark suspense, ingenious plotting, and unforgettable characters, Intent to Kill is a grand slam from the author Nelson DeMille calls, “A very intense and ingenious storyteller.”
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Intent to Kill
The first thing Ryan found was a hand with part of an arm. He guessed it was the left hand, but it was hard to tell. He spotted the right foot on the other side of the kitchen, on the floor, next to the high chair.
God only knew where the missing eyes and ears were.
Living in Pawtucket, Rhode Island, birthplace of Mr. Potato Head, had its ups and downs. But this working-class city of seventy-two thousand on the Blackstone River was no one-spud wonder. It was also the minor-league home of one of the most storied teams in baseball.
"Hi, Dada," said Ainsley. She was wearing only a diaper and her baseball cap—her daddy's team, of course. The Pawtucket Red Sox—"PawSox"—were the Triple-A minor-league affiliate of the Boston Red Sox, and twenty-four-year-old Ryan James was their rising star. Ryan put his daughter's partially reconstructed toy aside and gathered up Ainsley in his arms.
"What do you want for breakfast?" asked Ryan, as he put her in the high chair.
"Mama," she said.
"Coming right up," said Ryan.
Ainsley had fewer words in her vocabulary than most two-year-olds, and anything that she couldn't say was either a mama or a dada. Ryan didn't want to get Freudian about the whole thing, but he assumed the dada was a banana. He had no idea what the mama was. He selected a ripe one from the bunch, sliced it up for her, and put the pieces on the tray.
"Here you go, gorgeous," he said.
Ainsley ate one bite, then took the biggest piece and threw it right over Ryan's head. It landed infront of the refrigerator, where the real mama had to duck out of the line of fire as she entered the kitchen.
Chelsea sighed and put her hands on her hips. "Ryan, please don't throw food."
"I think you meant Ainsley," he said.
"You said, 'Ryan, please don't throw food.' I swear it wasn't me."
Chelsea looked flummoxed. "Oh, God. I'm already stressed."
"Just wait till we have five of these bambinos-." Chelsea froze.
"Kidding," said Ryan. He wanted only four. Chelsea poured a quick cup of coffee and gulped half of it down. "Why are you so tense?" said Ryan. She coughed on her java, and he immediately regretted the question. As a minor-league player, Ryan made the standard eleven hundred dollars per month plus a twenty-dollar per diem food allowance. It wasn't enough. Chelsea supplemented their income by teaching third-grade English at one of Boston's prestigious private schools. Three nights a week she attended law school classes at Suffolk University in Boston, a four-year program that would earn her a diploma when Ainsley was ready for first grade. If Ryan made it to the majors, she'd keep teaching; if he didn't, she'd start a new career. Either way, money would no longer be such an overriding issue in their future. For now, however, finances were tight, and with her full-time teaching responsibilities, her part-time law studies, and an hour-long commute each way between Pawtucket and Boston, Chelsea was struggling to be the good wife and mother.
Chelsea said, "I have a very important meeting, first thing this morning, with Mrs. Chambers. The last person I want to keep waiting is the head of school."
"You should eat something. It'll settle your nerves."
"At least take a dada for the road," he said, holding up another banana.
The Ainsleyism brought a smile.
"Okay," she said. "I'll have a dada."
She went to him and gave him a kiss, and for a brief instant, it seemed to cut the stress. That was the great thing about marrying the love of your life. People sometimes said, "I can't live without you" without a thought, but when Ryan said those words to Chelsea, he was quite literal. Teammates teased him for being whipped, but deep down they envied him.
"Me, me, me!" said Ainsley.
Chelsea gave her a kiss, too.
"Ainsley has speech therapy today at eleven," she said. "Can you pick her up from day care and take her?"
"Sure," Ryan said. "Batting practice doesn't start until three. I'll take her to your mother's afterward."
"And I'll get her from there."
"Then you're coming to the game tonight?"
There was a long pause. Chelsea's schedule hadn't allowed her to see many of Ryan's games this season.
"I have a two-hour criminal law class tonight," she said.
"Honey, it's the last game of the season."
"I know. But the semester has barely started, and I'm already getting into trouble for missing too many classes."
"Don't they let you make up the class work for family commitments? Just this one time?"
"Well, I guess I could call the professor and see what he says."
"So you'll come?"
"I will really, really try."
Ryan took an envelope from the kitchen counter and handed it to her. "I snagged you really great seats."
She hesitated, and Ryan could see that he was adding pressure that she didn't need today. But it truly was the biggest game of the season.
Chelsea looked inside the envelope. "There are only two tickets," she said.
"Yeah. One for you and one for Ainsley."
"What about Babes?"
Ryan paused. What about Babes?
Babes was the nickname for Chelsea's younger brother, Daniel. Twenty-one years old and still living with his parents, he suffered from Asperger's syndrome, an autism-related disorder. He loved baseball and rarely missed a PawSox game. Most of the players were kind to him, but it was a bad practical joke a few years ago that had brought Ryan and Chelsea together. For laughs, one of Ryan's teammates asked Babes if he wanted a chocolate bar, but it was really Ex-Lax. Around the seventh inning, poor Babes suddenly dropped his baseball mitt and cap and went running home from the stands, a grown man with a load in his pants. Ryan got a three-game suspension without pay for breaking the nose of the jackass who'd done it. When Babes's sister came to thank Ryan, the sparks started to fly.Intent to Kill. Copyright © by James Grippando. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.
Meet the Author
James Grippando is a New York Times bestselling author of twenty-four novels. He was a trial lawyer for twelve years before the publication of his first novel in 1994 (The Pardon), and now serves as counsel at Boies Schiller & Flexner LLP. He lives in South Florida with his wife, three children, two cats, and a golden retriever named Max who has no idea that he’s a dog.
- Coral Gables, Florida
- Date of Birth:
- January 27, 1958
- Place of Birth:
- Waukegan, Illinois
- B.A. with High Honors, University of Florida, 1980; J.D. with Honors, University of Florida, 1982
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Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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Having read many of Jim Grippando's books, I thought this was among the top! Loved the many twists and turns and the variety of characters. I thought it was creative and Rhode Island/Boston was a perfect setting for a sports based novel.
Although some of the plot was more unrealistic than usual in a mystery book; I still gave it 5* because on the whole the book was a great read and certainly plausable that the powerful would go to any lengths to keep their secrets.
Twenty-four year old Pawtucket Red Sox pitcher Ryan James is heading for the majors in nearby Boston. He is making his last start for the Triple A "PawSox" before leaving Rhode Island for Fenway. His wife Chelsea and their infant daughter Ainsley are coming to watch him pitch. However, behind schedule, an apparent drunk driver crashes into the car Chelsea drives. She dies, but thanks to the child restraining seat in the rear two years old Ainsley lives. The other driver vanishes without a trace. Ryan's life shattered that night. Instead of being on the big league mound, almost three years later he co-hosts a morning sports-talk radio show in Boston. Still grieving his loss, he never sleeps while trying to be the best single dad in the world. He remains outraged that the hit and run driver never was caught and his beloved's case is colder than a New England winter. Suddenly on the third anniversary of the day his life ended, an anonymous tip claims "I know who did it." While PPD heats up the James case, Ryan makes a paradigm switch from DUI accident to homicide and believes his autism spectrum disorder brother-in-law Babes is the tipster, but he has vanished. Ryan begins a search for the truth with the help of prosecutor Emma Carlisle. Though the conspiracy that Ryan and Emma start to unravel seems over the top of the Green Monster, the story line is a gripping thriller as an increasingly cold case of a deadly vehicular accident turns into premeditated murder. Fans of James Grippando will enjoy the tale, but leave the plausibility index in the dugout. Harriet Klausner
Read this in 2 days. Right from the start I felt I knew the characters. "A bit over the top" in some areas--- but an enjoyable and fun read.
Not the stile I'm use to with James Grippando .It did not keep me on the edge the way he usually does.
Good but a little more research should have been done on pawtucket area and the pawsox But a good read