No Rest for the Dead
Sandra Brown, Raymond Khoury
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More than twenty New York Times bestselling authors team up to create a first-rate serial novel -- a collaboration that combines the skills of America’s greatest storytellers to produce a gripping, spellbinding mystery.
“The lineup of writers who have contributed to this mystery is akin to the Murderers’ Row of the 1927 New York Yankees. There is not a weak spot in the bunch.”
—David Baldacci, from the Introduction
Alexander McCall Smith. Sandra Brown. Faye Kellerman. J.A. Jance. Jeffery Deaver. Kathy Reichs. Lisa Scottoline. Jeff Lindsay. These are only a handful of the names that make up the all-star lineup of authors behind No Rest for the Dead, a tale of vengeance, greed, and love that flows seamlessly, in the words of David Baldacci, “as it passes from one creator's mind to the next.”
When Christopher Thomas, a ruthless curator at San Francisco’s McFall Art Museum, is murdered and his decaying body is found in an iron maiden in a Berlin museum, his wife, Rosemary, is the primary suspect, and she is tried, convicted and executed. Ten years later, Jon Nunn, the detective who cracked the case, is convinced that the wrong person was put to death. In the years since the case was closed, he's discovered a web of deceit and betrayal surrounding the Thomases that could implicate any number of people in the crime. With the help of the dead woman's friend, he plans to gather everyone who was there the night Christopher died and finally uncover the truth, suspect by suspect. Solving this case may be Nunn’s last chance for redemption … but the shadowy forces behind Christopher’s death will stop at nothing to silence the past forever.
In this innovative storytelling approach, each of these twenty-five bestselling writers brings their distinctive voice to a chapter of the narrative, building the tension to a shocking, explosive finale. No Rest for the Dead is a thrilling, page-turning accomplishment that only America’s very best authors could achieve.
From the Introduction of No Rest for the Dead:
There is always that case, the one that keeps me awake at night, the one that got away. It’ll always be there, gnawing at the edges of my mind. It doesn’t matter that ten years have passed, it doesn’t matter that the case is officially closed. An innocent woman was executed, I was the one who helped make it happen, and on the sad night when the needle was inserted into her arm, injecting her with death, part of my life ended too.
It never felt right, never made sense. Sure, there was motive and opportunity, there was the physical evidence. But if you met her, if you knew her the way I got to know her . . . It wasn’t until later, after I’d taken a step back from the case, that I realized it had angles I hadn’t seen, layers I hadn’t uncovered, back when it mattered, back when I could have saved her….
With contributions from:
David Baldacci (Introduction)
Andrew F. Gulli
Alexander McCall Smith
T. Jefferson Parker
the backseat. Then: “And this happens when?” “Tomorrow. I should have the money within the week. All the money.” Another long silence followed, and Thomas felt a slow drop of sweat crawl down his neck, in spite of the chill in the car. Finally the man spoke. “I would hate to think you’re yanking my chain, Chris.” “I swear to you.” “Because you are really pissing off some very serious people.” “I swear,” Thomas repeated. “Give me your hand.” Thomas blinked at the strange request.
finger. The whole hand throbbed, all the way to the wrist, and for quite a while he could do nothing except hold it to his chest and bite his lip. But the pain did not die down, and finally Thomas fumbled the keys into the ignition, started the car, and drove carefully away. 2 ALEXANDER McCALL SMITH Such a generous host.” Justine said that, and he thought, Naïve. She had been in Europe twice before, as she’d made a point of telling him just before the plane took off. A month in London in
over.” “I know. I just wish it could have been something else.” “There was something else, if you remember. Animal connection, if nothing else.” But the small attempt at humor got no rise from her. “I sometimes wonder if there was nothing else.” “Well, thanks very much, now, after all these years.” She reached over and took his hand. “Don’t be mad, Stan. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I just don’t know if I’ll ever get over the guilt.” “Guilt for what? Falling in love with someone
guilt about that.” Peter cocked his head. “Is this why you wanted to come out and have this little chat today?” “Yes. Mostly, I’d say so.” Peter’s face darkened. “You think someone, after all these years, will see a motive for one of us to have killed Chris?” “If someone’s looking,” Stan said, “and I believe Jon Nunn is.” “Then let him look. He didn’t find anything back when it mattered. He won’t find anything now.” “But back when it mattered, Rosemary and Chris’s money was in escrow during
into his chair, just in time for the louder gabble of a tire commercial. The sound echoed up to the first landing of the marble staircase but somehow failed to turn the corner and make it to the second floor. At the top of the stairs greater darkness waited to join the sudden silence. The pools of shadow were swept aside by one security light halfway down a hallway lined with office doors. The entire length of the hallway stood prey to the shadows, half dim and half lit by the small and ugly