Nightwalkers

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Overview

"Cam Richter, needing a break from his too eventful detective career, is in search of more peaceful pastures in the North Carolina countryside. He buys a seven hundred-acre antebellum plantation, the perfect location for restful solitude, but it doesn't take long for him to discover that his new locale is not as quiet as he'd hoped." "Almost immediately, Cam finds himself caught up in mischievous pranks around his land, the site of a Civil War-era massacre. When the pranks turn hostile, however, he realizes he's been targeted by a killer who ...
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Nightwalkers: A Novel

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Overview

"Cam Richter, needing a break from his too eventful detective career, is in search of more peaceful pastures in the North Carolina countryside. He buys a seven hundred-acre antebellum plantation, the perfect location for restful solitude, but it doesn't take long for him to discover that his new locale is not as quiet as he'd hoped." "Almost immediately, Cam finds himself caught up in mischievous pranks around his land, the site of a Civil War-era massacre. When the pranks turn hostile, however, he realizes he's been targeted by a killer who holds him responsible for something Cam is pretty sure he never did. As he tries to find out why someone wants him dead, he begins to uncover the secrets of his plantation and how the land's tragic history is still tangled up in the present." Cam will need all of his resources, including his redoubtable German shepherd companions, to stay alive as he deals with a determined stalker, some very eccentric people, and all the entanglements of a place suddenly alive with secrets and the fruits of a bloody past.
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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly

A cast of eccentric Southern characters, several of whom could have escaped from the pages of Gone with the Wind, lifts Deutermann's winning fourth novel to feature PI Cam Richter (after The Moonpool). Cam, tired of suburban life, is buying Glory's End, a rundown plantation in Rockwell County, N.C. First, he must deal with a modern-day "ghost"-in cop parlance, someone just released from prison who decides to get revenge on the person who put him in jail. Then it's on to an even deadlier, more mysterious malefactor who's trying to kill him for reasons unknown. Cam's next door neighbors are Valeria Lee and her mother, Hester, who along with their lunatic relative, Maj. Courtney Woodruff Lee, dress and live in a strange antebellum past. The major likes to wear Confederate gray while spending his nights riding horseback around the countryside looking for Yankee spies. Cam's German shepherds, Frick, Frack and Kitty, help propel the action to an electrifying conclusion. (June)

Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
Publishers Weekly
Full of imaginative plotting touches, Deutermann's fast-paced sequel to his acclaimed 2005 suspense novel, The Cat Dancers, finds Cam Richter, formerly a lieutenant with the Manceford County, N.C., sheriff's office, now doing less stressful work as the head of a PI firm staffed with other ex-cops. Park ranger Mary Ellen Goode, Richter's more-than-colleague who was severely traumatized in their last joint inquiry, reaches out to him for help after a probationary ranger is raped and left for dead in a Smoky Mountains national park. Richter's inquiries soon reveal that the crime was tangentially related to a much bigger criminal conspiracy, possibly centered on methamphetamine sales orchestrated by a figure out of a Grimm's fairy tale, the evil Grinny Creigh, and her incestuous clan. The author's impressive ability to bring the remote Appalachian region to life bodes well for the health of this series. (Jan.) Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
Ex-cop Cameron Richter (Spider Mountain, 2007, etc.) plays cat-and-mouse with two murderous ghosts. Since leaving the Manceford County, N.C., sheriff's office for private work, Cam Richter has been doing OK-actually, better than OK. The cases are interesting, even exciting on occasion, and Hide and Seek Investigations makes money with agreeable consistency. Still, Cam's begun to detect in himself telltale signs of diminishing enthusiasm. The siren song of retirement, usually muted, becomes unexpectedly clamorous the day he happens on the For Sale sign for Glory's End, the once elegant antebellum plantation sitting on 700 eye-catching acres in nearby Rockwell County. Spurred by restlessness, Cam buys it. Meanwhile, the first of Cam's ghosts has been sighted. For a lawman like Cam, a ghost is someone with a grudge against a cop that won't quit, someone prepared to haunt him until death, someone like Billie Ray Breen, just paroled from Alexander State Prison, where Cam had put him a few years back-he's a felon who makes not the least attempt to disguise his malicious intent. Ghost No. 2, a more obscure figure that seems to be linked to the murky history of Glory's End, tracks Cam with unnerving skill, leaving notes promising vengeance for a wrong Cam can't remember having perpetrated. This eerily enigmatic figure worries Cam far more than Billie Ray. Better the ghost you know, he thinks. A rousing, spirited yarn.
From the Publisher
P. T. Deutermann's prose crackles, his action starts at once and charges forward without ever giving you a headache or turning your stomach. In this novel his terrifically likable private detective Cam Richter closes up shop and retires (oh, sure). He buys a run-down Civil War plantation house and sets about fixing it up, only to discover that it has a brutally bloody history—it is the burial ground for victims of a mass murder in the civil war—and that there are folks out and around who somehow hold him responsible for . . . well, he can't tell what, but something they seem determined to kill over. Cam is the guy, you may remember, with the three German shepherds (Frick, Frack, and Kitty) and they play a pivotal part in the story all the way to the hair-raising climax that Deutermann typically, and gleefully, delivers. A wonderful read !ABOUT BOOKS BY CLAIRE ERNSBERGER, PH.D. A cast of eccentric Southern characters, several of whom could have escaped from the pages of Gone with the Wind, lifts Deutermann's winning fourth novel to feature PI Cam Richter (after The Moonpool). Cam, tired of suburban life, is buying Glory's End, a rundown plantation in Rockwell County, N.C. First, he must deal with a modern-day "ghost" - in cop parlance, someone just released from prison who decides to get revenge on the person who put him in jail. Then it’s on to an even deadlier, more mysterious malefactor who’s trying to kill him for reasons unknown. Cam's next door neighbors are Valeria Lee and her mother, Hester, who along with their lunatic relative, Maj. Courtney Woodruff Lee, dress and live in a strange antebellum past. The major likes to wear Confederate gray while spending his nights riding horseback around the countryside looking for Yankee spies. Cam's German shepherds, Frick, Frack and Kitty, help propel the action to an electrifying conclusion.Publishers Weekly, 2009  

Ex-cop Cameron Richter (Spider Mountain, 2007, etc.) plays cat-and-mouse with two murderous ghosts.

Since leaving the Manceford County, N.C., sheriff’s office for private work, Cam Richter has been doing OK - actually, better than OK. The cases are interesting, even exciting on occasion, and Hide and Seek Investigations makes money with agreeable consistency. Still, Cam's begun to detect in himself telltale signs of diminishing enthusiasm. The siren song of retirement, usually muted, becomes unexpectedly clamorous the day he happens on the For Sale sign for Glory's End, the once elegant antebellum plantation sitting on 700 eye-catching acres in nearby Rockwell County. Spurred by restlessness, Cam buys it. Meanwhile, the first of Cam's ghosts has been sighted. For a lawman like Cam, a ghost is someone with a grudge against a cop that won't quit, someone prepared to haunt him until death, someone like Billie Ray Breen, just paroled from Alexander State Prison, where Cam had put him a few years back - he's a felon who makes not the least attempt to disguise his malicious intent. Ghost No. 2, a more obscure figure that seems to be linked to the murky history of Glory's End, tracks Cam with unnerving skill, leaving notes promising vengeance for a wrong Cam can't remember having perpetrated. This eerily enigmatic figure worries Cam far more than Billie Ray. Better the ghost you know, he thinks.

A rousing, spirited yarn.

Kirkus Review  Looking to slow his life down, PI Cam Richter moves away from the city and takes up residence in a Civil War-era plantation in North Carolina . But, as readers of the previous three Richter novels know, danger tends to follow Cam around like a puppy. It isn’t long before he finds out that someone is trying to kill him and that the plantation might hold the key to the mystery. Richter is an easygoing, likable series hero, and Deutermann has a strong, fluid writing style that encourages you to hang around for awhile. The series is still relatively young, but it’s already proven to be a winner.Booklist Review

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780312365370
  • Publisher: St. Martin's Press
  • Publication date: 4/27/2010
  • Format: Mass Market Paperback
  • Pages: 336
  • Product dimensions: 4.10 (w) x 6.60 (h) x 1.00 (d)

Meet the Author

P. T. DEUTERMANN spent twenty-six years in military and government service before retiring to begin his writing career. He is the author of thirteen novels and lives with his wife in North Carolina.
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Read an Excerpt

Spider Mountain

A Novel
By Deutermann, P. T.

St. Martin's Press

Copyright © 2006 Deutermann, P. T.
All right reserved.

ISBN: 9780312333799

Chapter One The uniformed park ranger looked up from his newspaper. “You’re Lieutenant Richter,” he said with a frown. “That’s right,” I said. “Except for the lieutenant part. I’m not with the sheriff’s office anymore.” The ranger gave me a stony look, as if this news somehow made my appearance there worse. “I’ll tell her you’re here,” he said curtly. He got up from behind the visitors’ information counter and walked over to an office door. He paused before opening it. “You’re not exactly welcome up here, you know,” he said. I just waited. The ranger gave me another hard look. I debated quailing in the presence of such ferocity, but yawned instead. He then went into the office, shutting the door behind him. Truth be told, I hadn’t exactly expected a marching band and festive bunting upon my first visit to the Thirty Mile ranger station since the cat dancers case. But that had been two years ago, and I’d almost managed to bury those events in my moving-on box. Almost. The station hadn’t changed a bit. The unfriendly park ranger was a new face, so whatever he knew about it he’d been told by others. They’d been furious then because I’d put MaryEllen Goode in grave danger. Apparently they weren’t over it. Nothing I could do about that. She had called me, not the other way around. Then she was standing there. Still remarkably pretty, although there were some dark circles under those blue eyes and a tinge of gray in her hair. Her smile seemed a bit forced. “Thanks for coming,” she said. “Let’s go back to my office.” I followed her down a short hall. She’s thinner, I thought. The sign on her door read m.e. goode, ph.d., park ecologist. “How’s the arm?” she asked as we went into her office. “Better,” I said. “I can hold it on the steering wheel for almost an hour now. How’re things in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park these days?” She sat down behind a cluttered desk. “Comparatively quiet,” she said with a rueful smile. “Until six weeks ago.” I eased myself into a wooden chair and massaged my upper arm. What was left of it. “I’ve missed seeing you,” I said, and meant it. She looked down at her desk for a moment before answering. “I’m sorry about going radio-silent,” she said finally. “I—it’s been—very difficult.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve not been well.” I leaned forward. “Hey? That wasn’t an accusation. Just an observation. I have missed seeing you. Now, tell me: Am I going to get out of this station alive?” She smiled. “Don’t mind them,” she said. “You made them look bad. They’ll get over it.” “And how about you—are you getting over it?” “Are you really a private investigator now?” she asked, sidestepping my question. “After a fashion. I left the Manceford County Sheriff’s Office after—well, after that incident at White Eye’s cabin.” I saw her flinch when I mentioned White Eye. I guess I had my answer. “I couldn’t very well stay on in law enforcement once I refused to testify. So now I do investigative work for the district court system in Triboro. When I want to.” She gave me an appraising look. “Sheriff Baggett explained that to me,” she said. “Why you wouldn’t testify. I don’t believe I’ve ever thanked you for that.” I shrugged and immediately regretted it. There were some things my left arm could do, but lifting suddenly wasn’t one of them. “Well, it was my butt, too,” I said. “Until we know we have them all, both of us would have been dreaming about crosshairs for the rest of our lives.” “Dreaming of crosshairs,” she said softly. “That’s very well put. And are they working it?” “I think so,” I said, rubbing my arm again. “But of course I’m on the outside now, so I don’t really know.” “And how about you—are you working it?” It was my turn to smile. “Oh, yes,” I said. I’d formed a one-man-band consulting company when I left the sheriff’s office, offering myself to handle investigative projects for various court offices. The Major Criminal Apprehension Team, or MCAT, leaderless after I left, had been disbanded, and the team members reassigned within the major crimes division. I’d offered moonlighting jobs to three of my ex-teammates, who all knew the real reasons behind my refusal to testify in the cat dancers case. Together we were quietly assembling a database of candidates for the as yet unapprehended cat dancers. She nodded, not quite looking at me. She seemed distracted, I thought. Remembering the cave and those big cats hunting them in the dark? My mother had been on antidepressant meds after my father died. She’d been like this. Wistful. Quick to drift. “You called?” I prompted. She pulled herself together. “Yes, I did. Did you read about the Park Service probationer who was beaten and raped up here in the park? About six weeks ago?” “Sorry, no,” I said. “One of ours. New rangers are assigned to an experienced ranger as a mentor when they start their probationary year. Janey Howard was assigned to me. She’d been here almost three months. The chief sent her to one of the backcountry lakes to take water samples. She didn’t come back that afternoon. Once it got dark and we couldn’t raise her on the radio, we launched a search.” “The local cops join in?” “Absolutely. Park Service. Carrigan County deputies. Volunteer firefighters from Marionburg. But we concentrated on where she was supposed to have gone. Found her vehicle there, so that’s where we looked. Some hikers found her two days later, wandering down one of the trails, about ten miles from the lake. Wearing nothing but an old blanket. Barefoot. Dehydrated. Beat up. Among other things.” “Did she get herself loose or did they dump her?” “No one knows. She doesn’t know. She remembers nothing, which is probably a good thing. She’s home, over in Cherokee County, in Murphy. Her parents are being—very protective.” “They mad at the Park Service?” “‘We trusted you to take care of her,’” she recited. “‘She was supposed to be a park ranger, not a rape victim. Walking tours, nature hikes with the tourists, butterfly lectures, sweet bunny rabbits, bird watching. See Bambi run. That kind of thing. Instead you people sent her off into the deep woods and some twisted bastard got her. What was she doing out there all alone?’” “Her job, perhaps?” I said. Mary Ellen sighed. “It is a beautiful park. And we do all of those nice things. But you and I know that evil can get loose in the backcountry from time to time.” “Do we ever,” I murmured. She shot me a sideways look. “And,” she continued, “Janey was working very close to Injun country.” I raised my eyebrows at her. “Meaning?” “Meaning that she was working up on the edge of Robbins County.” “Ah.” I’d heard of Robbins County back when I’d been with the Manceford County Sheriff’s Office. The Great Smokies Park extended into both Tennessee and North Carolina. Robbins County enveloped the southeastern boundary of the park on the Carolina side. It was a place where the hill people lived remote and were determined to keep themselves that way. It was also rumored to be the mother lode for methamphetamine in western North Carolina. The Robbins County Sheriff’s Office was also reputed to be a really interesting organization. Their official motto was “Taking care of business.” I’d heard they’d painted that right on the patrol cars. “Yes,” she said. “Our local sheriff, Bill Hayes, apparently has to ask permission to operate in Robbins County. They were not exactly forthcoming.” “The Park Service is federal—you don’t have to ask permission.” “Yes we do, outside of the park. Anyway, we got her back, but that’s all we got. Which is why I called you.” I leaned back in my chair. “The Park Service has sworn officers. And I would have guessed they’d get the Bureau into it, especially if you guys suspected criminal collusion from local law.” She hesitated. “It’s complicated,” she said. “It seems our regional director is scared of starting some kind of feud with local mountain people. Send the FBI in and stir up a hornet’s nest of hillbilly outlaws who would then come into the park for recreation involving the tourists. We’re not staffed to cope with that kind of mess. The visitor count is down already because of what happened to Janey Howard.” “And the visitor count is important?” I asked. “It determines the budget, among other things. Especially if it goes down because of bad publicity.” “Does it have a bearing on other things—such as promotions, seniority, performance evaluations?” She nodded. “What can I say: We’re a federal bureaucracy. Anyway, I thought perhaps you might have some ideas on how we can find out who did this.” “What’s Sheriff Hayes doing?” “The Carrigan County people got nowhere in Robbins County, whose sheriff maintains it didn’t happen on his patch. And, of course, if it didn’t happen in Robbins County, then it probably happened in the park.” “Either way, technically not Hayes’s problem, either.” “Not his jurisdiction,” she corrected. “He’s mad as hell about it, and they did more than they had to. It’s just—” “Right,” I said. “Some cases are just no-win for anybody. So you guys want to hire me? Is that it?” She put a hand to her mouth in surprise. “Us? The Park Service? Oh, no, we can’t do that. I mean—” I grinned at her. “I know that. I was just teasing. Besides, my name isn’t exactly enshrined in a place of honor here. I thought I was going to have to call for the dogs, the way that ranger was looking at me.” “You’ve brought them along?” “Don’t go anywhere without them,” I said. I saw the alarm flicker in her eyes again and mentally kicked myself. “Why don’t we have dinner,” I said. “We can talk about it some more. I may have some ideas for you.” She appeared to think about it. “I don’t know if that would be such a good idea,” she said finally. “Marionburg is a very small town. And, well—” She stopped. And my being here has resurfaced some very bad memories, I thought. Which she was not, apparently, able to expunge. No wonder the rangers were still mad at me. Before the cat dancers case she had been the brightest object at the station. “Well,” I said, getting up. “I’m assuming there’s still only the one decent place to eat in Marionburg. I’ll be there around eight if you change your mind. Otherwise, I’ll check around a little and then give you a call. Okay?” She nodded quickly. Too quickly, I thought. I sensed that she wanted me out of there, and that now would be nice. Plus, she was probably embarrassed. I’d driven almost four hours from Triboro, and now she was probably thinking that her call had been a mistake. “Thank you,” she said in a small voice, again not quite looking at me. “And I’m sorry for being such a drag.” “Don’t beat yourself up, Mary Ellen,” I said gently. “It takes some time. You getting help?” She nodded. “And you?” she asked. This time she did look at me. The fear was still visible in her eyes. If anything, brighter. “Scotch at night, the gym during the day, and lots of quality time on the firing range. I’ll be in touch. You stop worrying.” *** As I headed out to my Suburban I heard a voice behind me calling my name. “Lieutenant Richter? A word, please?” I thought it was the hostile ranger I’d run into when I first arrived, so I turned around very quickly, ready to quash any more bullshit from the hired help. But this ranger was older, and the title on his nameplate read chief ranger. He stopped abruptly when I spun around. “Yes?” I said in as official a voice as I could muster. For the record, I’m six-one and I hadn’t been kidding about spending much of the last two years in the gym. The older man had to look up to speak to me. “I’m Bob Parsons, chief of the station here. My people told me you’d come to see Mary Ellen Goode.” “That’s right,” I said. I could see two sets of German shepherd ears outlined against the back window of my Suburban. The vehicle’s windows were open and they’d heard my tone of voice. I was about to add that she had called me, but then decided against it. “My predecessor told me the story,” Parsons said. “About what happened up here and what happened to Mary Ellen.” He paused. “Look, Lieutenant—” “I’m not a lieutenant anymore,” I said. “I took early retirement from the Manceford County Sheriff’s Office. And I suspect you didn’t get the whole story about what happened.” Parsons nodded. “Right,” he said quickly. “She said you were a private investigator now.” He hesitated again. “Look,” he said again. “I’m sure there’s stuff I don’t know, and probably don’t need to know. But what I do know is that Mary Ellen is pretty fragile these days. Is it absolutely necessary for you to be here? Can maybe one of us help you instead?” I considered the question. The chief ranger sounded sincere. “That’ll be up to her, Mr. Parsons,” I said. “For the record, I’m intimately familiar with what she went through. I was there for part of it. And the last thing I want to do is to upset her.” “Up to her?” Parsons asked, and then he understood. “Ah—she called you?” “That’s right,” I said. “Then this is about Janey Howard, isn’t it.” “Why don’t you ask her, Mr. Parsons. Or you can wait for her to tell you. That actually might be the kinder course of action.” Parsons shook his head. “The Howard case is complicated, Lieutenant. Very complicated. It involves more than just the Park Service.” I pretended to be surprised. Parsons sighed. “We’re not sure where the attack took place. Whether it was in the park or in Robbins County.” “You are sure about the attack, though?” “Oh, yes. God, yes. That girl’s lucky to be alive.” “So. You jailed any bad guys for it?” Parsons frowned. I suspected he probably did that a lot. “Um, no,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean people have stopped trying.” “People?” Parsons avoided the question. “Like I said, it’s complicated. Politically sensitive within the Park Service. I guess what I’m trying to say is you’d be doing everyone a favor if you just went back east. Really, you would.” “Nice to meet you, Chief Ranger Parsons,” I said. I turned away from the ranger and walked to my vehicle. Parsons stood there for a moment, shook his head, frowned some more, and then walked back into the ranger station. I took my shepherds for a quick nature walk and then left to find my motel. I wondered how long it would take Parsons to get on the telephone to talk to those mysterious “people,” and how long before they would get in touch with me. Copyright 2006 by P. T. Deutermann. All rights reserved.
 

Continues...

Excerpted from Spider Mountain by Deutermann, P. T. Copyright © 2006 by Deutermann, P. T.. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Customer Reviews

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( 19 )
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Sort by: Showing all of 19 Customer Reviews
  • Posted December 1, 2009

    Deutermann always satisfies

    Books by P.T. Deutermann are always an automatic buy for me. They offer uniformly chilling suspense, believable characters and, even when offbeat, the plots are very credible. The latest continues the evolution of a serial character, Cam Richter.

    In this story, we encounter some truly bizarre behavior from the evil-doers, but despite that stretch, the story makes its own sense. My one regret: having to wait for the next offering. Make a friend of Cam Richter. You'll be glad that you did.

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  • Posted November 11, 2009

    He does again

    Great read for dogs lovers and others. Cam Richter is one of the most notable characters in fiction today.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 30, 2009

    Excellent Author

    PT Deutermann is one of my favorite authors. His books are interesting and well written.They do not follow a "cookie-cutter" pattern. You never know where his story lines will lead.

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  • Posted July 4, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    I Also Recommend:

    Mr. P. T. Deutermann proves once again that he is a master craftsman when it comes to holding your attention with a really good yarn. In Nightwalkers he gets Cam Richter in more trouble than the law allows.

    Mr. Deutermann's favorite retired lawman, Cam Richter has moved to the country to escape the rat race in town where it seems everyone is trying to kill him. Yet he has apparently brought the rats with him as the attacks on his life keep happening. Caught between the mysteries of an old Confederate Train Robbery, a really strange family next door that are living in the Civil War, an old Confederate Major that rides the hills on horseback at night looking to see what the Yankees are up to, a pretty young librarian who just happens to be an ex-cop, and a house full of ghosts...Cam has his hands full trying to decide just what is real and what isn't. Oh, a lost will, mad Dobermans, and assorted booby traps don't help a bit. But with Frick, Frack, Kitty, and the boys from Hide And Seek Investigations Cam gives it all his best shot in a very interesting read.

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    Posted September 15, 2010

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