The Last Act: A Novel

by Brad Parks

Overview

Award-winning author Brad Parks delivers a tense novel of thrills, twists, and deceit that grabs you and won’t let go until the final, satisfying page.
 
Tommy Jump is an out-of-work stage actor approached by the FBI with the role of a lifetime: Go undercover at a federal prison, impersonate a convicted felon, and befriend a fellow inmate, a disgraced banker named Mitchell Dupree, who knows the location of documents that can be used to bring down a ruthless drug cartel . . . if only he’d tell the FBI where they are.
 
The women in Tommy’s life, his fiancée and mother, tell him he’s crazy to even consider taking the part. The cartel has quickly risen to become the largest supplier of crystal meth in America. And it hasn’t done it by playing nice. Still, Tommy’s acting career has stalled, and the FBI is offering a minimum of $150,000 for a six-month gig—whether he gets the documents or not.
 
Using a false name and backstory, Tommy enters the low-security prison and begins the process of befriending Dupree. But Tommy soon realizes he’s underestimated the enormity of his task and the terrifying reach of the cartel. The FBI aren't the only ones looking for the documents, and if Tommy doesn’t play his role to perfection, it just may be his last act.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781524746513
Publisher:	Penguin Publishing Group
Publication date:	03/03/2020
Pages:	480
Sales rank:	530,483
Product dimensions:	4.10(w) x 7.40(h) x 1.10(d)

About the Author

International bestselling author Brad Parks is the only writer to have won the Shamus, Nero, and Lefty Awards, three of crime fiction’s most prestigious prizes. A former reporter with The Washington Post and The Star-Ledger (Newark), he lives in Virginia with his wife and two children.

Read an Excerpt

Chapter 1

They confronted him shortly after dark, maybe thirty feet from the safety of his car.

Kris Langetieg-husband, father, affable redhead-had just emerged from a school-board meeting. He was walking head down alongside the lightly trafficked side street where he had parked, eager to get home to his family, distracted enough that he didn't notice the two men until they were already bracketing him on the narrow sidewalk. One in front, one behind.

Langetieg recognized them immediately. The guys from the cartel. His loafers skidded on a fine layer of West Virginia grit as he came to a halt. A thin summer sweat covered his upper lip.

"Hello again," one of them said.

The one in front. The one with the gun.

"What do you want?" Langetieg asked, sweat now popping on his brow. "I already told you no."

"Exactly," the other one said.

The one behind. The one closing fast.

Langetieg braced himself. He was a big man. Big and soft. Panic seized him.

A man in front. A man behind. A fence to his right. A truck to his left. All the cardinal points blocked, and his car might as well have been in Ohio. Still, if he could get his legs under him, if he could get his arms up, if he could get some breath in his lungs . . .

Then the current entered him: twelve hundred volts of brain-jarring juice, delivered through the wispy tendrils of a police-grade Taser. Langetieg dropped to the ground, his muscles locked in contraction.

The doors of a nearby panel van opened, and two more men emerged. Both were Mexican and built like wrestlers, low to the ground and practical. They picked up Langetieg's helpless bulk and dumped it in the back of the van.

As the van got under way, the wrestlers blindfolded him, bound his wrists and ankles, and stuffed his mouth with a dish towel, securing it in place with another binding. Each task was accomplished with the ruthless efficiency of men who had done this before.

Langetieg's only sustaining hope was that someone saw what had happened; someone who might even recognize that an assistant US Attorney for the Northern District of West Virginia was being taken against his will.

He strained to listen for the blare of sirens, the thump of helicopter rotors, some reassuring sound to tell him his captors hadn't gotten away clean.

But it was a hot summer evening, the kind of night when folks in Martinsburg, West Virginia, were still inside, savoring their air-conditioning. So there was nothing. Just the hum of tires on asphalt, the whoosh of air around molded steel, the churn of pistons taking him farther from any chance of rescue.

For twenty-five minutes, they drove. The ropes bit his skin. The blindfold pressed his eyes. A small corner of the dish towel worked its way farther back in his throat, nauseating him. He willed himself not to puke. He already couldn't breathe through his mouth; if the vomit plugged his nose, he'd suffocate.

Lying on the floor of the van, he felt every bounce, jolt, and jerk of the vehicle's suspension. He could guess where they were traveling, albeit only in vague terms: first city streets, then highway, then country roads.

Soon the ride got rougher. The relative hush of the asphalt was replaced by the cacophony of gravel, of tires crunching on small stones, spinning them up to ping off the underside of the vehicle. Next came dirt, which was bumpier than gravel or asphalt, but quieter. The loudest sound was the occasional brushing of weeds against the chassis.

Finally, they stopped. When the doors swung open, Langetieg smelled pine. The wrestlers grabbed him again. No longer paralyzed, Langetieg bucked and thrashed, howling into his muzzle like the wounded animal he was.

It didn't accomplish much.

"You want to get tased again, homie?" one of the men asked in Spanish-accented English.

Langetieg sagged. They carried him twenty more feet, then up a small set of steps. He was inside now. The pine scent vanished. Mildew and black mold replaced it.

He was untied one limb at a time, then just as quickly retied, this time to a chair.

Only then did they remove the blindfold. The lead cartel guy stood in front of him, holding a knife.

The gag came off next.

"Wait, wait," Langetieg said the moment his mouth was free. "I've changed my mind. I'll do whatever you want. I'll do-"

"Sorry," the man said. "Too late."

Editorial Reviews

[Parks’s] thriller Say Nothing, published in 2017, was delightfully suspenseful, but his latest, The Last Act, may be his best yet. . . . The Last Act possesses two notable virtues. One is excellent characterizations. Parks not only makes [his protagonist] Tommy believable but does the same for numerous others, including his admirable girlfriend, his difficult mother, his huge, possibly dangerous cell mate, the poker-playing convict who has the secrets, and the slippery FBI agent he trusts, perhaps unwisely. The other is a roller-coaster plot that serves up endless surprises. Whatever you think is coming next probably isn’t.”
—The Washington Post

”The heroes and villains shine, and the writing makes the narrative believable and intense. This story is definitely not the author's last act, and it solidifies the prestige and accolades Parks has achieved. Prepare to be surprised and astonished.”
—Associated Press

“The former Star-Ledger reporter turned in another spectacular mystery. . . . Given Parks's stellar plotting and writing, it's worth getting lost in The Last Act.”
—The Star-Ledger (Newark)

“A devilishly good story with more twists and turns than Say Nothing, and enough edge-of-your-seat suspense to fill two books.” 
—CrimeReads

“The Last Act is a fast read that sinks its hooks into you and doesn't let go.”
—Bookreporter

“A perfect piece of entertainment."
—Steve Berry, New York Times bestselling author

“A superb, highly original thriller with a terrific premise. I loved it.”
—Peter James, #1 international bestselling author

"With The Last Act, Parks conjures meth, murder, and musical theater into a remarkable turn of crime fiction magic."
—Reed Farrel Coleman, New York Times bestselling author

“This novel packs on the suspenseful surprises and plot reversals that made Parks a mainstay on the bestseller lists, but it's not just gritty and dark. With a lighter approach, Parks focuses on enduring characters and sharp wordplay, perfect for those who like their thrillers witty rather than bloody. Even if they aren't fans of Broadway musicals, readers will want to seek out this one."
—Library Journal fistarred review)

“Award-winning author Brad Parks delivers a confident—and highly entertaining—thriller that spins on believable characters and avoids clichés. It works as a domestic drama that also delves into money laundering, the drug cartel, and prison. The Last Act again proves Parks’s mettle in high-concept standalone novels.” 
—Sun-Sentinel (South Florida)

“The Last Act is rife with surprise . . . [with] smart, tough lead females who provide the essential brains and grit that make happy endings possible. . . . The unforced element of surprise, which is also present and, in spades, works. There are switchbacks and sudden side turnings. Not the least of these is a pitch-perfect outcome.”
—The Virginian-Pilot

“A nail-biter of a thriller.”
—Parkersburg News & Sentinel

“With a story that made us angry, sad, and was too close to the realities that exist in our society today, The Last Act is definitely an entertaining commercial thriller which does not disappoint.” 
—Mystery Tribune

“[A] riveting new thriller . . . it’s a perfect setup.” 
—The Big Thrill

“[The Last Act] manages to be an international crime novel, orbiting around the world drug trade, all the while it’s also a claustrophobic prison novel . . . altogether a big, tense, and compelling thriller.”
—Sullivan County Democrat 

“The setup is so patient and the logistics so matter-of-fact that even the savviest readers will be caught in the story's expertly laid traps before they know what's happening.”
—Kirkus Reviews

“A Brad Parks novel offers two pleasures. One is watching a stunning talent at work. The other—operating almost apart from the first—is getting wrapped in the coils of a fiendishly clever thriller.”
—Booklist 

From the Publisher

01/21/2019

Inspired by the real-life case of Wachovia Bank, which failed to apply proper controls on Mexican money exchanges, this crime novel from Shamus Award winner Parks (Closer Than You Know) offers an intriguing setup but few thrills. A childhood friend approaches struggling stage actor Tommy Jump and tells him that the FBI will pay him handsomely to go to prison and befriend Mitchell Dupree, a banker who worked for the New Colima cartel. If the feds can get documents that Mitch has hidden, they can destroy the syndicate. When Tommy learns that his fiancée is pregnant, he agrees to take the job and the money. Under a false name, he pleads guilty to a nonexistent bank robbery and gets sentenced to the Federal Corrections Institute in Morgantown, W.Va. The action slows as Tommy leads a boring life in the minimum-security prison, where he’s never in peril and threats to others feel minimal. He makes little progress in getting close to Mitchell. Much of the plot depends on coincidence or surprise revelations. Hopefully, Parks will return to form next time. Agent: Alice Martell, Martell Agency. (Mar.)

Publishers Weekly

★ 02/01/2019

Multi-award-winning Parks (Closer Than You Know) returns with a stand-alone about Tommy Jump, once a child star, now an over-the-hill musical theater actor at 27. He's contemplating the end of his career when he's offered the role of a lifetime. A childhood friend, now an FBI agent, wants him to impersonate a convict in a minimum-security prison and to buddy up to a man responsible for laundering money for a Latin American drug cartel, with the hope he'll reveal the location of incriminating documents detailing the cartel leader's activities. Tommy, with an artist girlfriend and a baby on the way, agrees, unaware that the cartel has their own men inside. Once Tommy is behind bars under an assumed name, he's on his own, and must navigate the prison system using the charm and acting abilities that once made him the toast of Broadway. VERDICT This novel packs on the suspenseful surprises and plot reversals that made Parks a mainstay on the best-seller lists, but it's not just gritty and dark. With a lighter approach, Parks focuses on enduring characters and sharp wordplay, perfect for those who like their thrillers witty rather than bloody. Even if they aren't fans of Broadway musicals, readers will want to seek out this one. [See Prepub Alert, 9/17/18.]—Gregg Winsor, Johnson Cty. Lib., Overland Park, KS

Library Journal