Visions in Death by J.D. Robb (English) Paperback Book

Description: Visions in Death by J.D. Robb Now in paperback--the 19th book in the #1 "New York Times" bestselling In Death series, featuring New York City police lieutenant Eve Dallas. Eve investigates a rash of horrific killings with the help of her new husband, billionaire Roarke, and her raw partner, Peabody. FORMAT Paperback LANGUAGE English CONDITION Brand New Publisher Description Detective Eve Dallas searches the darkest corners of Manhattan for an elusive killer with a passion for collecting soulsin this novel in the #1 New York Times bestselling In Death series.On one of the citys hottest nights, New York Police Lieutenant Eve Dallas is sent to Central Park—and into a hellish new investigation. The victim is found on the rocks, just above the still, dark water of the lake. Around her neck is a single red ribbon. Her hands are posed, as if in prayer. But it is the eyes—removed with the precision of a surgeon—that have Dallas most alarmed. As more bodies turn up, each with the same defining scars, Eve is frantic for answers. Against her instincts, she accepts help from a psychic who offers one vision after another—each with shockingly accurate details of the murders. And when partner and friend Peabody is badly injured after escaping an attack, the stakes are raised. Are the eyes a symbol? A twisted religious ritual? A souvenir? With help from her husband, Roarke, Dallas must uncover the killers motivation before another vision becomes another nightmare... Author Biography J. D. Robb is the pseudonym for a #1 New York Times bestselling author of more than 200 novels, including the bestselling In Death series. There are more than 500 million copies of her books in print. Review "The danger gets way too close to home in this newest chapter in the gripping In Death series. Without a doubt, this is one of the most consistently excellent, thrilling and emotionally gripping series ever published."—RT Book Reviews"A sassy, smart-alecky read, possessing the warm characterizations and witty dialogue that have earned Robb/Roberts her huge and loyal readership."—Publishers WeeklyMore Praise for the In Death series "Robb is a virtuoso."—Seattle Post-Intelligencer "Its Law & Order: SVU—in the future."—Entertainment Weekly "J. D. Robbs In Death novels are cant-miss pleasures."—#1 New York Times bestselling author Harlan Coben "Anchored by terrific characters, sudden twists that spin the whole narrative on a dime, and a thrills-to-chills ration that will raise the neck hairs of even the most jaded reader, the J. D. Robb books are the epitome of great popular fiction."—New York Times bestselling author Dennis Lehane Review Quote "The danger gets way too close to home in this newest chapter in the gripping In Death series. Without a doubt, this is one of the most consistently excellent, thrilling and emotionally gripping series ever published."-- RT Book Reviews "A sassy, smart-alecky read, possessing the warm characterizations and witty dialogue that have earned Robb/Roberts her huge and loyal readership."-- Publishers Weekly More Praise for the In Death series Excerpt from Book Shed gotten through the entire evening without killing anyone. Lieutenant Eve Dallas, cop to the bone, figured the restraint showed enormous strength of character. Her day had gone smoothly enough. A morning court appearance that had been as routine as it was tedious, paperwork both extensive and mind-numbing. The single case shed caught had involved pals and their dispute over who had dibs on the last of the illegals-a party mix of Buzz, Exotica, and Zoom-theyd been toking on while lazing around on the roof of an apartment building on the West Side. The dispute had been resolved when one of the afternoon partyers had taken a header off the roof, clutching the last of the illegals in his greedy fist. He probably hadnt felt much, even when hed splatted onto Tenth Avenue, but it sure as hell had broken the party mood. Witnesses, including an uninvolved Good Samaritan from a neighboring building whod called in the nine-one-one, all stated that the individual whod been scooped off the sidewalk and into a bag had leaped of his own volition onto the roof ledge, danced an energetic keep-away boogie, lost his precarious balance, and taken flight with a giggling wee-haw. Much to the surprise-and possible entertainment-of the afternoon passengers on an airtram whod also witnessed the last dance of one Jasper K. McKinney. One inappropriately delighted tourist had managed to capture the entire incident on his pocket vid. It all jibed, and the books would close on Jasper as death by misadventure. Unofficially, Eve labeled it death by stupidity, but there wasnt a place on the sheet for that particular observation. As a result of Jasper and his eight-story dive, shed clocked out of Cop Central barely an hour past end-of-duty, only to get bogged down in ugly midtown traffic because the temporary vehicle some sadist in Requisitions had tossed at her limped along like a blind, three-legged dog. She had rank, for Gods sake, and was entitled to a decent ride. It wasnt her fault shed had two units destroyed in two years. Maybe shed forget strength of character and go maim somebody in Requisitions in the morning. It sounded like fun. And after shed gotten home-okay, almost two hours late-shed had to transform herself from kick-ass murder cop to fashionable corporate wife. She was a good cop, she reminded herself, but more than a little shaky in the corporate wife arena. She supposed shed been fashionable, since her husband had the entire getup-down to the underwear-set out for her. Roarke knew clothes. She just knew she was wearing something green with sparkles all over it, and where it wasnt green and sparkly, it showed a lot of skin. There hadnt been time to argue about it, but only to dive into the outfit and shove her feet into shoes-also green and sparkly. With high enough, needle-thin heels, shed been nearly eye to eye with her man. It wasnt a hardship to be eye to eye with Roarke. Not when his were that wild, unearthly blue in a face drawn by artistic angels. But it was tough being social with strangers when you were worried you might tip over and fall on your ass any second. But shed gotten through it. Through the quick-change, the quick shuttle trip from New York to Chicago, through the cocktail hour where her brains were nearly bored to suet despite truly excellent wine, and the corporate dinner with Roarke entertaining about a dozen clients, with her playing hostess. She wasnt quite sure what kind of clients they were since Roarke had his fingers in every pie known to man or beast, so she didnt attempt to keep up. What she did know was that most of them could take the prize for most tedious during the four-hour ordeal. But there had been no casualties. Points for her. What she wanted now was to get home, get out of the sparkly green thing, and fall into bed to sleep for the six hours shed have before the clock started ticking again. The summer of 2059 had been long, hot, and bloody. Fall, with its cooler temperatures, was coming. Maybe people wouldnt be as inclined to kill one another. But she doubted it. Shed barely settled into her seat on the plush, private shuttle when Roarke lifted her feet into his lap and slipped off her shoes. "Dont get any ideas, pal. When I finally get out of this dress, Im not getting back in." "Darling Eve." His voice was a purr that echoed of Ireland. "Thats the sort of statement that gives me ideas. However lovely you look in that dress, youd look even lovelier out of it." "Forget it. No way Im dragging this thing back on, and Im surely not getting out of this shuttle wearing what you laughingly call underwear. So just...Oh, sweet baby Jesus." Her eyes crossed, then did a slow roll to the back of her head when he pressed his thumbs into her arch. "I owe you a foot rub, at the very least." He smiled as she let her head fall back and moaned. "For services above and beyond. I know you detest the sort of thing we did tonight. And I appreciate you not pulling out your weapon and stunning McIntyre over the canaps." "The guy with the big teeth who laughed like a donkey, right?" "That would be McIntyre. Hes also a very important account." He lifted her left foot, kissed her toes. "So thanks." "Its okay. Goes with the package." Hell of a package, she thought, studying him through barely open eyes. All gorgeously wrapped six Feet two inches of him. Not just the lean, muscled build or the heart-stopping face framed with the sweep of black silk hair. But the brains, the style, the edge. The whole shot. And best of all, he not only loved her, but he got her. Of all the things they fought about-and it was never hard to find something-they never butted heads over this. He never expected any more of her in the corporate wife area than she could give. A lot of people would, and she got that. Roarkes enterprises included holdings, properties, factories, markets, and God knew, on and off planet. He was absurdly rich, with all the power that went with it. A lot of men in his position would expect a spouse to be at their beck, to drop everything and drape themselves over his arm at a moments notice. He didnt. For every business event or social occasion she managed to attend as his wife, there were probably three she missed. Moreover, there were countless times he arranged his schedule to suit hers, or put in time as consultant on a case. In fact, when she thought about it, he made a much better cops husband than she made corporate wife. "Maybe I owe you a foot rub," she considered. "Youre a pretty good deal." He skimmed a finger down her foot, from toes to heel. "I certainly am." "But Im still not getting out of this dress." She scooted down in her seat, closed her eyes. "Wake me up when we land." Shed only started to drift when the communicator in her evening bag signaled. "Oh, come on." She didnt open her eyes but reached out, clamped a hand on the bag. "Whats our ETA?" "About fifteen." With a nod, she pulled out the communicator and engaged. "Dallas." Dispatch, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. Report to Belvedere Castle, Central Park. Officers on scene. Homicide, single victim. "Contact Peabody, Detective Delia. Ill meet her on scene. My ETA is thirty minutes." Acknowledged. Dispatch out. "Shit." Eve dragged a hand through her hair. "You can dump me and go on." "I dislike dumping my wife. Ill go with you and wait." She scowled down at the fancy dress. "I hate going to scenes in these getups. I hear about it for weeks." It was worse because she had to put the shoes back on, and then navigate in them over the grass and onto the paths of the citys greatest park. The castle sat at the highest point of the park, with its skinny tower rising up into the night sky and the rocky ground giving way to the lake at its feet. It was a pretty enough spot, she supposed, for tourists to take their snaps and vids during the day. Once the sun set, areas like this were the natural habitat of the street sleepers, chemi-heads, unlicensed companions on the troll, and those with nothing better to do than look for trouble. The current city administration made a lot of noise about keeping the parks and monuments clean. And to their credit they even tossed money at the process with some regularity. There would be volunteers as well as city workers combing the park for litter, blasting off graffiti, sprucing up gardens and such. Then everyone would get cozy and comfortable and put their efforts into other matters until it all went to hell again. At the moment it was in decent shape with hardly enough litter to make the predawn cleanup crews work themselves into a lather. With Roarke beside her, she strode as best she could toward the barricades the cops had already put in place. The castle was lit up like day with crime-scene lights. "You dont have to wait," she told him. "I can catch a ride." "Ill wait." Rather than argue, she shrugged and pulling out her badge, went through the barricades. No one made any comments about the dress or shoes. Shed figured her rep for ass-kicking would have kept the uniforms quiet, but it surprised her not to detect a single grin or snicker behind her back. It surprised her more when her partner stepped toward her without a smart remark on her wardrobe. "Dallas. Its bad." "Whatve we got?" "Female, caucasian, about thirty. I got the scene recorded. I was about to run her for ID when they told me youd arrived on scene." They walked together, Peabody in her co Details ISBN042520300X Author J.D. Robb Short Title VISIONS IN DEATH Pages 384 Language English ISBN-10 042520300X ISBN-13 9780425203002 Media Book DEWEY FIC Year 2005 Residence MD, US Birth 1950 DOI 10.1604/9780425203002 Series Number 19 Place of Publication New York, NY Country of Publication United States AU Release Date 2005-01-25 NZ Release Date 2005-01-25 US Release Date 2005-01-25 UK Release Date 2005-01-25 Publisher Penguin Putnam Inc Series In Death Format Paperback Publication Date 2005-01-25 Imprint Penguin USA Audience General We've got this At The Nile, if you're looking for it, we've got it. 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