Synopsis
In the irresistible second installment of the New York Times bestselling Chet and Bernie mystery series, which has been hailed as "enchanting [and] one-of-a-kind" (Stephen King), Chet gets a glimpse of the show dog world turned deadly.
What first seems like a walk in the park to wise and lovable canine narrator Chet and his human companion Bernie-to investigate threats made against a pretty, pampered show dog-turns into a serious case when Princess and her owner are abducted. To make matters worse, Bernie's on-again, off-again girlfriend, reporter Susie Sanchez, disappears too. When Chet is separated from Bernie, he's on his own to put the pieces together, find his way home, and save the day. Spencer Quinn's "brilliantly original" (Richmond Times-Dispatch) and "masterful" (Los Angeles Times) series combines genuine suspense and intrigue with humor and insight for a tail-wagging good time readers won't soon forget.
Review
Spencer Quinn is the bestselling author of eight Chet and Bernie mystery series, as well as the #1 New York Times bestselling Bowser and Birdie series for middle-grade readers. He lives on Cape Cod with his wife Diana-and dogs Audrey and Pearl. Keep up with him by visiting SpenceQuinn.com.Thereby Hangs a Tail
ONE
The perp looked around-what nasty little eyes he had!-and saw there was nowhere to go. We were in some kind of warehouse, big and shadowy, with a few grimy high-up windows and tall stacks of machine parts. I couldn't remember how the warehouse fit in, exactly, or even what the whole case was all about; only knew beyond a doubt, from those nasty eyes and that sour end-of-the-line smell, a bit like those kosher pickles Bernie had with his BLTs-I'd tried one; once was enough for the kosher pickles, although I always had time for a BLT-that this guy was the perp. I lunged forward and grabbed him by the pant leg. Case closed.
The perp cried out in pain, a horrible, high-pitched sound that made me want to cover my ears. Too bad I can't do that, but no complaints-I'm happy the way I am (even if my ears don't match, something I found out about a while back but can't get into right now). The perp's noises went on and on and finally it hit me that maybe I had more than just his pant leg. That happened sometimes: my teeth are probably longer than yours and sharper, too. What was that? Yes, the taste of blood. My mistake, but a very exciting one all the same.
"Call him off!" the perp screamed. "I give up."
Bernie came running up from behind. "Good work, Chet," he said, huffing and puffing. Poor Bernie-he was trying to give up smoking again but not having much luck.
"Get him off! He's biting me!"
"Chet wouldn't bite," Bernie said. "Not deliberately."
"Not deliberately? What are you-"
"On the other hand, round about now he usually likes to hear a confession."
"Huh? He's a goddamn dog."
"Language," said Bernie.
Those nasty eyes shifted around, looking wild now. "But he's a dog."
"True," Bernie said.
I wagged my tail. And maybe, on account of the good mood I was in-what was better than a job well done?-shook my head from side to side a bit.
"Aaiieeee! I confess! I confess!"
"To what?"
"To what? The El Camino jewel heist, for Christ sake."
"El Camino jewel heist?" said Bernie. "We're here about the Bar J Guest Ranch arson."
"That, too," said the perp. "Just get him offa me."
"Chet?" Bernie said. "Chet?"
Oh, all right, but how about that taste, human blood? Addictive or what?
Hours later we had two checks, one for the arson, one for the jewel heist, and a good thing, too, because our finances were a mess-alimony, child support, a bad investment in some company with plans to make Hawaiian pants just like the Hawaiian shirts Bernie wears on special occasions, and not much work lately except for divorce cases, never any fun. We run a detective agency, me and Bernie, called the Little Detective Agency on account of Little being Bernie's last name. My name's Chet, pure and simple. Headquarters is our house on Mesquite Road, a nice place with a big tree out front, perfect for napping under, and the whole canyon easily accessible out back, if it just so happens someone left the gate open. And then, up in the canyon-well, say no more.
"This calls for a celebration," Bernie said. "How about a chew strip?" Was that a serious question? Who says no to a chew strip? He opened the cupboard over the sink, where the chew strips were kept; at one time, a very nice time, they'd been on an open shelf, lower down. "And while we're at it . . ." Uh-oh. Bernie reached for the bottle of bourbon, standing by the chew strip box.
We sat out back, watching the light change on the far side of the canyon as the sun went down, Bernie at the table sipping bourbon, me under it, trying to take my time with the chew strip. This wasn't any chew strip, but a high-end bacon-flavored rawhide chew from Rover and Company, an outfit owned by our buddy Simon something or other, whom we'd met on a missing-persons case, our specialty. Bacon smell-the best there is-rose all around me, like a dense cloud. I glanced up at Bernie through the glass tabletop. Could he smell it? Probably not. The puniness of his sense of smell-and the sense of smell of humans in general-was something I've never gotten used to.
He looked down at me. "What's on your mind, boy? Ten to one you're thinking about how you chased that guy down." Wrong, but at that moment he reached over and scratched between my ears, right on a spot I hadn't even realized was desperate for scratching, so I gave my tail a thump. Bernie laughed. "Read your mind," he said. Not close, but I didn't care-he could believe whatever he wanted as long as he kept up this scratching, digging his nails in just so, an expert. He stopped-too soon, always too soon-and said, "How about Dry Gulch? Hell, we earned it."
I was on my feet, gulping down what was left of the chew strip. The Dry Gulch Steakhouse and Saloon was one of our favorites. They had a big wooden cowboy out front-I'd lifted my leg against him once, not good, I know, but just too tempting-and a patio bar in back where my guys were welcome. We went in the Porsche-an old topless one that had replaced our not-quite-as-old topless one after it shot off a cliff on a day I'll never forget, although I've actually forgotten most of it already-brown with yellow doors, Bernie driving, me riding shotgun. Loved riding shotgun: what was better than this? I stuck my head way up, into the wind: smells went by faster than I could sort them out, a kind of nose feast that I'm afraid you'll never-
"Hey, Chet, a little space, buddy."
Oops. Way over on Bernie's side. I shifted closer to my door.
"And ease up on the drooling."
Drooling? Me? I moved over as far as I could and sat stiffly the rest of the way, back straight, eyes forward, aloof. I wasn't alone in the drooling department, had seen Bernie drooling in his sleep more than once, and Leda, too, Bernie's ex-wife, meaning humans drooled, big time. But had I ever made the slightest fuss about it, or thought less of them? You tell me.
We sat in the patio bar at the Dry Gulch Steakhouse and Saloon, Bernie on the end stool, me on the floor. The big summer heat-not just heat but pressure, like a heavy blanket is always weighing down on you-was over, but it was still plenty hot and the cool tiles felt good. Bernie pointed across the street with his chin. "What's that?"
"What's what?" said the bartender.
"That hole in the ground."
"Condos," the bartender said. "Ten stories? Fifteen maybe?"
Bernie has dark, prominent eyebrows with a language all their own. Sometimes, like now, they grew jagged and his whole face, normally such a nice sight, darkened. "And when the aquifer runs dry, what then?" he said.
"Aquifer?" said the bartender.
"Any idea of the current population of the Valley?" Bernie said.
"The whole valley?" said the bartender. "Gotta be up there." Bernie gave him a long look, then ordered a double.
A waitress in a cowboy hat came by. "Is that Chet? Haven't seen you in a while." She knelt down, gave me a pat. "Still like steak tips?" Why would that ever change? "Hey, easy, boy."
Bernie had a burger and another bourbon; steak tips and water for me. His face returned to normal. Whew. Bernie worried about the aquifer a lot and sometimes when he got going couldn't stop. All our water came from the aquifer-I'd heard him say that over and over, although I'd never laid eyes on this aquifer, whatever it was. I didn't get it at all: there was plenty of water in the Valley-how else to explain all that spraying on the golf courses, morning and evening, and those beautiful little rainbows the sprinklers made? We had water out the yingyang. I got up and pressed my head against Bernie's leg. He did some light scratching in that space between my eyes, impossible for me to get to. Ah, bliss. I spotted a French fry under the stool next to Bernie's and snapped it up.
A bourbon or two later, Lieutenant Stine of the Metro PD-a trim little guy in a dark suit-walked in. Bernie had worked for him sometime in the distant past, before my adventures in K-9 school (washing out on the very last day, a long story, but it's no secret that a cat was involved) and had played some role in Bernie and me getting together, the exact details a bit foggy.
"Hear you cleared the El Camino case," Lieutenant Stine said. "Nice job."
"Luck, mostly," Bernie said.
"And a full confession to boot."
"Chet's doing."
Lieutenant Stine glanced down, saw me. He had a thin face and thin lips, didn't smile much in my experience, but he smiled now, somehow ended up looking a little dangerous. "He's a good interrogator," he said.
"The best," said Bernie.
I thumped my tail.
"Understand a tidy reward went along with that," the lieutenant said. A few stools down the row, a guy in a Hawaiian shirt glanced over.
"No complaints," Bernie said to Lieutenant Stine. "What are you drinking?"
A minute or so later, Bernie and the lieutenant were clinking glasses. I'd lost count of Bernie's bourbons by now; counting isn't my strength, not past two.
"Glad I ran into you," Lieutenant Stine said. "There's a little something that might be up your alley."
"Like what?" Bernie said.
Lieutenant Stine glanced down at me. "Up your alley for sure, come to think of it," he said. "And potentially lucrative besides."
"You have our attention," said Bernie.
Lieutenant Stine lowered his voice, but nowhere near out of my range. Have I mentioned the sharpness of my hearing yet, or was that just about my teeth? At that very moment, for example, I could hear a woman huddled over a cell phone at a table clear across the room saying "They're upping my medication." That sounded so interesting, I missed the beginning of the lieutenant's remark, tuning in in time to catch ". . . Great Western Dog Show."
"Never heard of it," Bernie said.
"I'm surprised," said the lieutenant. "There's been a lot of publicity." Bernie shrugged. I loved that shrug of his. If only I could do that! I gave it a try, but all that happened was the hair on my back stood up on end. ". . . coming to the Arena end of next week," the lieutenant was saying. "Used to be in Denver, but the mayor lured them here."
"Why?"
"For the money it'll bring into the Valley, what else?"
"What money?"
"Hotel bookings, food and drink, all the tourist shit," said Lieutenant Stine. "The flowers alone come to a quarter mill."
"Flowers?" Bernie said.
"Exactly," said the lieutenant. "The Great Western crowd is a certain class of people-happens to be the mayor's favorite class, actually."
"I thought he was the reform guy."
"You're not alone."
"So what does he want me to do?" Bernie said, knocking back more bourbon. "Give the welcoming address?"
Lieutenant Stine laughed. There was something metallic in the sound; it gave me a bad feeling, deep inside my ears. "Not quite," he said. "In fact, he didn't single you out per se-it's even possible he's never heard of you, believe it or not-he just wants someone like you."
"To do what?"
The lieutenant lowered his voice some more. "Bodyguard duty."
"Nope."
"Nope? Just like that?"
"We don't do bodyguard duty."
"What about the Junior Ramirez case?"
"That's why."
"This is different. First, it pays two grand a day. Second, next to a psychotic like Junior Ramirez, this client's a walk in the park." Lieutenant Stine laughed that metallic laugh again. "Just about literally," he said.
"Two grand?" Bernie said.
"And a bonus at the end wouldn't be a stretch."
"Who's the client?" Bernie said. And, despite my memories of guarding Junior Ramirez-especially that incident with the ice cream and the razor blade-I was glad. Our finances were a mess, and two grand was two grand, and a whole week of two grands was . . . well, I'll leave that to you.
Lieutenant Stine reached into his jacket pocket, took out a photo.
"What's this?" Bernie said.
"That's her long name on the back," the lieutenant said. ""Kingsbury's First Lady Belle.' But for every day I think they call her Princess."
"The client is a dog?"
I sat up. Bernie was gazing at the photo. I could see it, too. One of my guys was in the picture? Where? And then I spotted her: a tiny fluffball with huge dark eyes, reclining on a satin pillow. I knew satin pillows on account of Leda having had one, although it got chewed up in a kind of frenzy, the details of the episode not too clear in my mind. But that satin taste: so strange and interesting, a vivid memory. I glanced around the Dry Gulch bar: no satin in view.
"Not just any dog," said Lieutenant Stine. "Princess is one of the top dogs in the country. She won best in show at Balmoral."
"What's that?"
"You don't know Balmoral? It's on ESPN2 every year, Bernie-the biggest dog show in the country."
"Never heard of it," Bernie said.
Lieutenant Stine gave Bernie a sideways look. I'd seen other friends of Bernie's do the same thing, Sergeant Torres at Missing Persons, for example, or Otis DeWayne, our weapons guy-but didn't know what it meant. "So you don't want the job?" the lieutenant said.
Job? What job? Making sure that a fluffball on a satin pillow stayed out of trouble? That was free money, not a job. Come on, Bernie.
"Who's the owner?" Bernie said.
"Woman name of Adelina Borghese."
"Where from?"
"Italy, I think. But she owns a spread over in Rio Loco."
"Rio Loco?" Bernie said. "I'll talk to her."
The lieutenant nodded. "Knew you wouldn't say no to that kind of green."
The Hawaiian shirt man glanced over again.
Bernie's eyebrows went a little jagged. "I'll talk to her, that's all. I can still say no."
Lieutenant Stine went away. I polished off my steak tips, stretched out on those cool tiles, chilled out. What a life! The final chase through the warehouse ran pleasantly through my mind. And then again. After a while, I grew aware that the Hawaiian shirt guy had moved next to Bernie and struck up a conversation, at first about Hawaiian shirts, then about something else.
"What I run," he was saying, "is what you might call a hedge fund for the little guy."
"Little guy?" said Bernie.
"Not little in terms of intelligence or ability," the Hawaiian shirt man added quickly. "But for one reason or another, men of distinction who don't happen to be Wall Street insiders. I've had some nice play in commodities lately. You're familiar with the basics of tin futures?"
Bernie motioned for another drink, overturning the salt and pepper. "Can't be that complicated," he said.
"Exactly," replied the Hawaiian shirt man. And to the bartender when Bernie's drink came: "I'll get that." Then came a lot of back and forth about tin, puts, calls, Bolivia, and other mysteries. My eyelids got heavy, way too heavy to keep open. I let them close, drifted off. Harmless talk was all it was. As long as the checkbook didn't come out of Bernie's pocket, we were in good shape.
Sometime later I awoke, feeling tip-top. I got up, gave myself a good shake, looked aroun...
The Spencer Quinn Box Set #1
An eBook collection featuring the first and second novels in the irresistible New York Times bestselling series featuring canine narrator Chet and his human Bernie—“the coolest human/pooch duo this side of Wallace and Gromit” (Kirkus Reviews). The Chet and Bernie mystery series belongs to the long tradition of two-buddy private eye stories, where one of the buddies is the narrator—for example, Holmes and Watson. The big difference here is that the narrating buddy is a dog, Chet by name. In Dog On It, he and his partner Bernie investigate the disappearance of a teenage girl who may or may not have been kidnapped. Bernie and Chet have both had some setbacks in life—Bernie in combat, Chet in K-9 school—but together they make up a team like no other in the literature of detection. Chet is full of heart, and occasionally mischief, but always intensely loyal to Bernie—and dedicated to unraveling the mysterious disappearance of a high school girl who seems to have gotten mixed up with some very dangerous characters. In Thereby Hangs a Tail, Bernie and Chet are called on to investigate threats made against an unlikely target—a pretty and pampered show dog named Princess. What seems like a lark of a case turns serious when Princess and her owner are abducted. To make matters worse, Bernie’s on-again off-again girlfriend, reporter Susie Sanchez, disappears too. When Chet is separated from Bernie, he’s on his own to put the pieces together, find his way home, and save the day.
The big difference here is that the narrating buddy is a dog, Chet by name. In Dog On It, he and his partner Bernie investigate the disappearance of a teenage girl who may or may not have been kidnapped."
Thereby Hangs a Tail
Bernie Little and his canine companion, Chet, are private investigators. Both have had some setbacks in life - Bernie in combat, Chet in K-9 dog-training school - but together they make up a team like no other. In Thereby Hangs a Tail, Bernie and Chet are hired to investigate threats made against an unlikely target - a pretty, pampered show dog ...
In Thereby Hangs a Tail, Bernie and Chet are hired to investigate threats made against an unlikely target - a pretty, pampered show dog ."
Paw and Order
Visiting reporter Suzie Sanchez's home in Washington, D.C., canine investigator Chet lands in the path of an operative with links to a conspiracy involving a British intelligence agent, a strange bird, and a guinea pig.
Chet and his owner, P.I. Bernie, journey to Washington, DC-- and the dog-eat-dog world of our nation's capital."
The Spencer Quinn Reader's Companion
A free collection of excerpts from Spencer Quinn’s irresistible and bestselling Chet and Bernie Mystery Series.
A free collection of excerpts from Spencer Quinn’s irresistible and bestselling Chet and Bernie Mystery Series."
Scents and Sensibility
In the eighth installment in the New York Times bestselling mystery series that makes “even cat lovers…howl with delight” (USA TODAY), Chet and his human PI companion, Bernie Little, find themselves in a prickly situation when a mysterious case of illegal cactus smuggling comes to their attention. In the latest entry in the immensely popular Chet and Bernie mystery series, Private Investigator Bernie Little and his canine companion Chet return home to encounter some alarming developments. First off, Bernie’s wall safe—normally hidden behind the waterfall picture in the office—is gone, and with it Bernie’s grandfather’s watch, their most valuable possession. And next door, old Mr. Parsons is under investigation for being in possession of a saguaro cactus illegally transplanted from the desert. Bernie and Chet go deep into the desert to investigate. Is it possible that such a lovely old couple have a terrible secret in their past? Chet and Bernie discover bad things going on in the wilderness, far worse that cactus smuggling, and all connected to a strange but innocent-seeming desert festival called Cactus Man. They unearth leads that take them back to a long-ago kidnapping that may not have been a kidnapping and threaten a ruthless and charismatic criminal with a cult following, a criminal who sees at once what Chet and Bernie mean to each other and knows how to exploit it. Every bit as “insightful” (Booklist), “humorous” (Library Journal), and “deliciously addictive” (Publishers Weekly, starred review) as Quinn’s previous books, Scents and Sensibility is a drool-worthy mystery that will have readers everywhere begging for more.
Every bit as “insightful” (Booklist), “humorous” (Library Journal), and “deliciously addictive” (Publishers Weekly, starred review) as Quinn’s previous books, Scents and Sensibility is a drool-worthy mystery that will have ..."
Tail of Vengeance
Chet and Bernie—everybody’s favorite human-canine detective team—are asked by a beautiful woman to find evidence that would put her cheating boyfriend in the doghouse in this e-original short story from New York Times bestselling author Spencer Quinn.
Chet and Bernie—everybody’s favorite human-canine detective team—are asked by a beautiful woman to find evidence that would put her cheating boyfriend in the doghouse in this e-original short story from New York Times bestselling ..."
To Fetch a Thief
Following "Dog On It" and "Thereby Hangs a Tail, To Fetch a Thief" is the third Chet and Bernie mystery featuring an irresistible canine narrator.
Following "Dog On It" and "Thereby Hangs a Tail, To Fetch a Thief" is the third Chet and Bernie mystery featuring an irresistible canine narrator."
The Iggy Chronicles, Volume One
Chet and Bernie—everybody’s favorite human-canine detective team—return in an e-original short story that gives Chet’s best friend Iggy his moment in the spotlight. Iggy is a dog who doesn’t get out much, so it’s big news when elderly Mr. Parsons knocks on Bernie’s door to say that Iggy has vanished. In the search for Iggy, Chet and Bernie find Mrs. Parsons unconscious on her bedroom floor, in need of urgent medical care. But it’s only when they arrive at the hospital that things get really interesting. With a jewel thief making short work of hospital patients’ valuables, it seems that Iggy is not alone in disappearing right out from under somebody’s nose. Suspects are plentiful and witnesses are few. But when little Iggy reappears, tail wagging, it turns out he holds the key to solving the entire affair. In addition to a clever caper and the return of much beloved characters, this gem of a short story is a testament to the enduring power of friendship in all its forms: neighbor to neighbor, man to dog, dog to dog. Here is a treat you’ll devour in one sitting—rather like Chet with a juicy steak that’s been momentarily left unattended!
SPENCER QUINN is the author of five previous Chet and Bernie mystery novels: Dog On It, Thereby Hangs a Tail , To Fetch a Thief, The Dog Who Knew Too Much, and A Fistful of Collars. He lives on Cape Cod with his dogs Audrey and Pearl."
Dog on It
The first book of the New York Times bestselling Chet and Bernie mystery series, an “enchanting one-of-a-kind novel” (Stephen King) that is “nothing short of masterful” (Los Angeles Times). Chet, the wise and lovable canine narrator of Dog on It, and Bernie, a down-on-his-luck private investigator, are quick to take a new case involving a frantic mother searching for her teenage daughter. This well-behaved and gifted student may or may not have been kidnapped, but she has definitely gotten mixed up with some very unsavory characters. With Chet’s highly trained nose leading the way, their hunt for clues takes them into the desert to biker bars and other exotic locales—until the bad guys try to turn the tables and the resourceful duo lands in the paws of peril. Spencer Quinn’s irresistible mystery kicks off a delightful new series that will have readers panting for more.
A Chet and Bernie Mystery Spencer Quinn . More from this Series Thereby Hangs a Tail Book 2 To Fetch a Thief Book 3 The Dog Who Knew Too... Book 4 A Fistful of Collars Book 5 The Sound and the Furry Book 6 Paw and Order Book 7."
Behind the Curtain
"A terrific yarn, full of smart detection and hip good humor" (Stephen King) Behind the Curtain is the second book in the Echo Falls mystery series by bestselling crime novelist Peter Abrahams, following the acclaimed Down the Rabbit Hole. Perfect for middle school readers looking for a good mystery. In this "deliciously plotted, highly satisfying adventure" (Kirkus), the Sherlock Holmes-loving eight-grade heroine, Ingrid, starts to see some alarming signs of trouble in her home. Her dad is surfing the internet in search of a job when Ingrid had no idea his job was in jeopardy. Her brother, Ty, is trying to succeed on the high school football team—perhaps at the cost of his health. And Ingrid's beloved soccer coach is replaced by an icy newcomer who seems a little too savvy to be in it for the postgame pizza. True to her hero, Sherlock Holmes, Ingrid begins fishing around to find out who's really pulling the strings in her hometown of Echo Falls. But one morning, while en route to the dreaded MathFest, Ingrid is kidnapped and locked in the trunk of a car. Even if she escapes, will anyone believe her story? The third and final book in this Edgar Award-nominated series is Into the Dark.
"A terrific yarn, full of smart detection and hip good humor" (Stephen King) Behind the Curtain is the second book in the Echo Falls mystery series by bestselling crime novelist Peter Abrahams, following the acclaimed Down the Rabbit Hole."
Into the Dark
In Echo Falls, secrets buried in the past don't always stay there. In the third book in the Edgar Award–nominated and national bestselling Echo Falls series, Peter Abrahams's talent for building suspense shines as Ingrid embarks on her most harrowing adventure yet. Perfect for middle schoolers looking for a good mystery. An idyllic day of snowshoeing on Grampy's land with the sheriff's son, Joey, turns out to be less than idyllic when thirteen-year-old super sleuth Ingrid Levin-Hill stumbles on a body lying in the snow. This discovery sends the town of Echo Falls into a tailspin in which secrets long hidden are revealed and Grampy gets sent to jail. While Ingrid works to clear Grampy's name and uncover what really happened to the man in the snow, she discovers even more secrets she wishes she never knew. Just like the character Gretel, whom Ingid is playing in a local production of Hansel and Gretel, Ingrid must go deep into the darkness to find the truth. The Kliatt reviewer commented: "I’ve read the two previous Echo Falls mysteries featuring Ingrid (Down the Rabbit Hole and Behind the Curtain) and enjoyed them, but I think this one may be the best of all."
In the third book in the Edgar Award–nominated and national bestselling Echo Falls series, Peter Abrahams's talent for building suspense shines as Ingrid embarks on her most harrowing adventure yet."
Down the Rabbit Hole
"My all-time favorite. Astonishing." (Stephen King) Down the Rabbit Hole is the first book in the Echo Falls mystery series by bestselling crime novelist Peter Abrahams. Perfect for middle school readers looking for a good mystery. Welcome to Echo Falls, home of a thousand secrets. In Down the Rabbit Hole, eighth grader Ingrid Levin-Hill is in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or at least her shoes are. And getting them back will mean getting tangled up in a murder investigation as complicated as the mysteries solved by her idol, Sherlock Holmes. With soccer practice, schoolwork, and the lead role in her town's production of Alice in Wonderland, Ingrid is swamped. But as things in Echo Falls keep getting curiouser and curiouser, Ingrid realizes she must solve the murder on her own—before it's too late. "Deft use of literary allusions and ironic humor add further touches of class to a topnotch mystery," said School Library Journal. "Intriguing twists." Publishers Weekly agreed: "The fresh dialogue and believable small-town setting will tempt fans to visit Echo Falls again." The next book in this Edgar Award-nominated series in Behind the Curtain, followed by Into the Dark.
"My all-time favorite. Astonishing." (Stephen King) Down the Rabbit Hole is the first book in the Echo Falls mystery series by bestselling crime novelist Peter Abrahams. Perfect for middle school readers looking for a good mystery."
Nerve Damage
Renowned sculptor Roy Valois receives the worst news since learning of his adored wife Delia's death in South America fifteen years ago. His doctor tells him he's dying—and a morbid curiosity about how he'll be remembered inspires Roy, with the help of a local computer geek, to hack into a newspaper's system to read his prewritten obituary. But the death notice includes a small discrepancy about his late wife—and by calling the mistake to the attention of the surprised obit writer, Roy has inadvertently sealed an innocent man's doom. Suddenly Roy has a mission: to uncover the truth about the woman he can't stop loving—secrets guarded by powerful forces who believe murder is an acceptable price for keeping them buried. With his disease-ravaged body's final betrayal rapidly approaching, Roy must somehow stay alive long enough to find the answers: Who was Delia? How did she die? Why did she die? Did she die?
Renowned sculptor Roy Valois receives the worst news since learning of his adored wife Delia's death in South America fifteen years ago."
Reality Check
QB of the varsity football team. Passing grades in all his classes. Dating the hottest—and smartest—girl at school. Summer job paying more than minimum wage. Things in Cody's world seem to be going pretty well. Until, that is, his girlfriend, Clea, is sent off to boarding school across the country, and a torn ACL ends his high school football career. But bad things come in threes—or in Cody's case, sixes and twelves—and the worst is yet to come. While limping through town one day, Cody sees a newspaper heading: "Local Girl Missing." Clea, now his ex, has disappeared from her boarding school in Vermont, and the only clue is a letter she sent to Cody the morning of her disappearance. With that as his guide, Cody sets out to find out what happened. Once in Vermont, he unearths the town's secrets—and finds out that football isn't the only thing he's good at. Reality Check is another edge-of-your-seat suspense novel by the New York Times bestselling and Edgar Award-nominated author of Down the Rabbit Hole.
Reality Check is another edge-of-your-seat suspense novel by the New York Times bestselling and Edgar Award-nominated author of Down the Rabbit Hole."
End of Story
Aspiring author Ivy Seidel accepts a part-time position teaching writing to a group of convicted criminals hoping the experience will add depth and darkness to her own work. But in the haunting writings of charismatic inmate Vance Harrow she discovers a talent possibly greater than her own. And in the startling, disturbing stories Harrow has to tell, Ivy finds a dangerous new purpose—and a terrifying temptation that lures her into an inescapable world of shadows.
And in the startling, disturbing stories Harrow has to tell, Ivy finds a dangerous new purpose—and a terrifying temptation that lures her into an inescapable world of shadows."
Bullet Point
Wyatt never really thought much about his dad—a hardened criminal, a lifer in a prison somewhere on the other side of the state. But then the economy had to go and tank, and the community had to go and cut the baseball program from Wyatt's high school. And then the coach had to go and show Wyatt a photograph of his dad at sixteen, looking very much like Wyatt himself. Through a series of unfortunate—or perhaps they were fortunate—events, Wyatt meets a crazy-hot girl named Greer with a criminal dad of her own. A criminal dad who is, in fact, in jail with Wyatt's own criminal dad. Greer arranges a meeting, and Wyatt's dad is nothing like the guy he's imagined—he's suave, and smart, and funny, and cool, and—Wyatt's pretty sure—innocent. So Wyatt decides to help him out. A decision that may possibly be the worst he's ever made in his life. This is another hold-your-breath thriller by the New York Times bestselling and Edgar Award nominated Peter Abrahams.
So Wyatt decides to help him out. A decision that may possibly be the worst he's ever made in his life. This is another hold-your-breath thriller by the New York Times bestselling and Edgar Award nominated Peter Abrahams."
Behind the Curtain Unabridged CD
In Echo Falls you never know what's coming next -- and everyone has a secret. Things are amiss at 99 Maple Lane: Ingrid's dad's job is in jeopardy, but h e won't explain why. Ingrid's brother, Ty, is getting buff -- really buff -- but when Ty starts getting moody, Ingrid wonders if there's more to his physical fitness than lifting weights. Meanwhile, Ingrid's beloved soccer coach is replaced by an icy newcomer named Julia LeCaine, who seems a little too savvy to be in it for the postgame pizza. True to her hero, Sherlock Holmes, Ingrid begins fishing around to find out who's really pulling the strings in Echo Falls. But one morning, while en route to the dreaded MathFest, Ingrid is kidnapped and locked in the trunk of a car. Even if she escapes, will anyone believe her story? In this sequel to Down the Rabbit Hole a clever young girl learns that mysterious forces are at work in her town -- and exposing them could put her life in jeopardy. Performed by Colleen Delaney
In Echo Falls you never know what's coming next -- and everyone has a secret."
Talking Book Topics
Theater - phobic inspector Peter Diamond investigates . Some strong language . 2011 . The Tooth Tattoo : A Peter Diamond Investigation DB76807 10 hours 47 minutes by Peter Lovesey read by Barry Bernson Seven years ago , musician Mel ..."
Bloody Jack
Reduced to begging and thievery in the streets of London, a thirteen-year-old orphan disguises herself as a boy and connives her way onto a British warship set for high sea adventure in search of pirates.
Reduced to begging and thievery in the streets of London, a thirteen-year-old orphan disguises herself as a boy and connives her way onto a British warship set for high sea adventure in search of pirates."
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