From the Publisher
“...barn-burning crossover novel about every adoptive mother's worst nightmare. . . . her best book yet.” Kirkus Reviews (Starred Review)
“Bestseller Scottoline ... scores another bull's-eye with this terrifying thriller about an adoptive parent's worst fear. . . . Scottoline expertly ratchets up the tension.” Publishers Weekly (Starred Review)
“Scottoline's edgy and emotional thriller proves once again why she's such an accomplished author. Any story dealing with the kidnapping of a child is heart-wrenching, but in Scottoline's capable hands readers experience a myriad of feelings -- shock, anger, sadness and relief. A great read!” RT Book Reviews
“Scottoline's best novel to date will have faithful fans and new readers singing her praises. Highly recommended.” Library Journal
“Her plots are as lean and swift as a scull on the Schuylkill River in her native Philadelphia.” The Washington Post
“Look Again, if I may be so bold, is probably Lisa Scottoline's best novel. It's honest and hugely emotional, with very real characters who you care about, and will remember long after you finish this terrific book.” James Patterson
“There was something about this book that just sucked me in, especially on an emotional level...this is some of Lisa's finest work.” Billie Bloebaum, Powell's Books
“A timely and topical thriller...that tugs at the heart at the same moments that it ratchets up the tension.” Joe Drabyak, Chester County Book & Music Company
“A page-turner that challenges every aspect of motherhood. Lisa Scottoline's Look Again should appeal to fans of thrillers, romantic suspense, and provocative/issue novelists like Anita Shreve and Jodi Picoult.” Geoffrey B. Jennings, Rainy Day Books
“[The book is] laced with tears and laughter as we witness the anguish, joy, terror, and resolve of a mother, under siege.” Barbara Peters, The Poisoned Pen
“The pace never lets up and Look Again is full of surprises. . . . Look Again is a guaranteed great time, not only for all longtime Scottoline readers but for newcomers who will definitely become fans.” The Mystery Reader
If she hadn't looked at the picture, Betty Gleeson would have dropped the flyer in the waste paper basket. Instead, she stopped, transfixed: The missing boy in the photo looked identical to her adopted son. This seasoned reporter knew that Will's adoption had been totally aboveboard, but there was something that compelled her to pursue this eerie coincidence. In that moment, she made a decision that would thrust her into a hunt she can't abandon and a struggle she might not survive. Binding family ties; building suspense; sudden surprises.
Scottoline's writing hasn't acquired the paunch often found in thrillers by authors whose careers have reached the literary equivalent of middle age. Her plots are as lean and swift as a scull on the Schuylkill River in her native Philadelphia
The Washington Post
Single mother and journalist Ellen Gleeson is unsettled by a "Have You Seen This Child?" flyer that features a child disconcertingly similar to her adopted son. Curiosity compels her to investigate further, and as evidence spirals closer to the truth, Ellen's horror rises as she uncovers broken trails and untimely deaths that may or may not be related to her own situation. As skillful as Scottoline's thriller is, it is enhanced by Mary Stuart Masterson's performance. Her characterizations are distinct and evocative, her tone remains smooth, even while ratcheting up the tension and suspense. Listeners will be wholly absorbed by this moving story. A St. Martin's hardcover (Reviews, Feb. 16). (Apr.)Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
If you received news that threatened your family, would you ignore it or devote yourself to proving it false? Pennsylvania reporter Ellen Gleeson is living an ordinary life with her son and cat until she receives a "Have You Seen This Child?" flyer in the mail. The boy photographed in the flyer bears a striking resemblance to her three-year-old adopted son, Will, and becomes an object of obsession for Ellen, shaking the very foundations of her family and propelling her into an investigation. Is Will really Timothy Braverman, missing since infancy? Ellen finds herself anticipating the worst as her quest for the truth progresses. In typical Scottoline (Daddy's Girl) fashion, a strong female fights for what she believes in, despite more than her share of obstacles. Scottoline's best novel to date will have faithful fans and new readers singing her praises. Highly recommended to all public libraries.
Mary Todd Chesnut
Legal and illegal shenanigans take a back seat to mother love and its vicissitudes in Scottoline's barn-burning crossover novel about every adoptive mother's worst nightmare. Even though the escalating homicide count in Philadelphia includes more and more children and economic clouds portend layoffs at her newspaper, features reporter Ellen Gleeson has her own private store of sunshine: her three-year-old son Will, whom she fell in love with two years ago when a story about pediatric care brought her to his hospital bedside. Because Will had a heart defect and his mother couldn't care for him, she was willing to sign him over to a single mother, a decision Ellen has blessed every day of her life-until the day she sees a circular asking, "HAVE YOU SEEN THIS CHILD?" with the photograph of a boy whose resemblance to Will is uncanny. Timothy Braverman, abducted from his wealthy Florida parents, Carol and Bill, in a carjacking that went horribly wrong, hasn't been seen since. Despite her dread of confirming her fear that Will is Tim, Ellen can't help neglecting her job (with predictably dire professional results) to gather more information about him, partly because of her reporter's nose for a story, but mostly because she wants what's best for her son, no matter the cost. The trail leads her to a garage full of adoption folders, some unwelcome revelations about Will's birth mother and a tense game of hide-and-seek with the Bravermans as she realizes what a hornet's nest her questions have stirred up, and how determined someone is to make sure this is one story she doesn't break. Though the blood-and-thunder climax arrives a mite early, there's one final twist in reserve. Fans will spot thelast twist a mile away, but it doesn't matter. For once Scottoline subordinates the criminal plot to the human-interest story that rides sidesaddle in all her thrillers (Lady Killer, 2008, etc.), and the result is her best book yet. First printing of 500,000
Read an Excerpt
LOOK AGAIN (Chapter 1)
Ellen Gleeson was unlocking her front door when something in the mail caught her attention. It was a white card with photos of missing children, and one of the little boys looked oddly like her son. She eyed the photo as she twisted her key in the lock, but the mechanism was jammed, probably because of the cold. Snow encrusted SUVs and swing sets, and the night sky was the color of frozen blueberries.
Ellen couldn't stop looking at the white card, which read HAVE YOU SEEN THIS CHILD? The resemblance between the boy in the photo and her son was uncanny. They had the same wide-set eyes, smallish nose, and lopsided grin. Maybe it was the lighting on the porch. Her fixture had one of those bulbs that was supposed to repel bugs but only colored them yellow. She held the photo closer but came to the same conclusion. The boys could have been twins.
Weird, Ellen thought. Her son didn't have a twin. She had adopted him as an only child.
She jiggled the key in the lock, suddenly impatient. It had been a long day at work, and she was losing her grip on her purse, briefcase, the mail, and a bag of Chinese takeout. The aroma of barbecued spareribs wafted from the top, setting her stomach growling, and she twisted the key harder.
The lock finally gave way, the door swung open, and she dumped her stuff onto the side table and shed her coat, shivering happily in the warmth of her cozy living room. Lace curtains framed the windows behind a red-and-white-checked couch, and the walls were stenciled with cows and hearts, a cutesy touch she liked more than any reporter should. A plastic toy chest overflowed with plush animals, Spot board books, and Happy Meal figurines, decorating never seen in House & Garden.
"Mommy, look!" Will called out, running toward her with a paper in his hand. His bangs blew off his face, and Ellen flashed on the missing boy from the white card in the mail. The likeness startled her before it dissolved in a wave of love, powerful as blood.
"Hi, honey!" Ellen opened her arms as Will reached her knees, and she scooped him up, nuzzling him and breathing in the oaty smell of dry Cheerios and the faint almond scent of the Play-Doh sticking to his overalls.
"Eww, your nose is cold, Mommy."
"I know. It needs love."
Will giggled, squirming and waving the drawing. "Look what I made! It's for you!"
"Let's see." Ellen set him down and looked at his drawing, of a horse grazing under a tree. It was done in pencil and too good to be freehand. Will was no Picasso, and his go-to subject was trucks. "Wow, this is great! Thank you so much."
"Hey, Ellen," said the babysitter, Connie Mitchell, coming in from the kitchen with a welcoming smile. Connie was short and sweet, soft as a marshmallow in a white sweatshirt that read PENN STATE, which she wore with wide-leg jeans and slouchy Uggs. Her brown eyes were bracketed by crow's-feet and her chestnut ponytail was shot through with gray, but Connie had the enthusiasm, if not always the energy, of a teenager. She asked, "How was your day?"
"Crazy busy. How about you?"
"Just fine," Connie answered, which was only one of the reasons that Ellen counted her as a blessing. She'd had her share of babysitter drama, and there was no feeling worse than leaving your child with a sitter who wasn't speaking to you.
Will was waving his picture, still excited. "I drew it! All by myself!"
"He traced it from a coloring book," Connie said under her breath. She crossed to the coat closet and retrieved her parka.
"I drew it!" Will's forehead buckled into a frown.
"I know, and you did a great job." Ellen stroked his silky head. "How was swimming, Con?"
"Fine. Great." Connie put on her coat and flicked her ponytail out of the collar with a deft backhand. "He was a little fish." She got her brown purse and packed tote bag from the windowseat. "Will, tell Mommy how great you did without the kickboard."
Will pouted, a mood swing typical of toddlers and manic-depressives. Connie zipped up her coat. "Then we drew pictures, right? You told me Mommy liked horses."
"I drew it," Will said, cranky.
"I love my picture, sweetie." Ellen was hoping to stave off a kiddie meltdown, and she didn't blame him for it. He was plainly tired, and a lot was asked of three-year-olds these days. She asked Connie, "He didn't nap, did he?"
"I put him down, but he didn't sleep."
"Too bad." Ellen hid her disappointment. If Will didn't nap, she wouldn't get any time with him before bed.
Connie bent down to him. "See ya later . . ."
Will was supposed to say "alligator," but he didn't. His lower lip was already puckering.
"You wanna say good-bye?" Connie asked.
Will shook his head, his eyes averted and his arms loose at his sides. He wouldn't make it through a book tonight, and Ellen loved to read to him. Her mother would turn over in her grave if she knew Will was going to bed without a book.
"All right then, bye-bye," Connie said, but Will didn't respond, his head downcast. The babysitter touched his arm. "I love you, Will."
Ellen felt a twinge of jealousy, however unreasonable. "Thanks again," she said, and Connie left, letting in an icy blast of air. Then she closed and locked the door.
"I DREW IT!" Will dissolved into tears, and the drawing fluttered to the hardwood floor.
"Aw, baby. Let's have some dinner."
"All by myself!"
"Come here, sweetie." Ellen reached for him but her hand hit the bag of Chinese food, knocking it to the floor and scattering the mail. She righted it before the food spilled, and her gaze fell on the white card with the photo of the missing boy.
She picked up the bag of Chinese food and left the mail on the floor.
For the time being.
LOOK AGAIN. Copyright 2009 by Lisa Scottoline.