Kay Hooper is the brightest new star of suspense fiction. Now the New York Times bestselling author who's built a reputation for keeping her readers' pulse in the red zone delivers a thriller that will stun the senses--all six of them. This time a psychic special agent and a gritty cop must stop a brutal killer with a chilling M.O. and an unstoppable...Sense of Evil.The victims are always the same: beautiful, successful, and blond. Someone was able to coax these intelligent and confident women away from safety. Someone was able to gain their trust long enough to do the unthinkable. Their shocking murders have terrified the inhabitants of a small, peaceful town where such heinous crimes are simply not supposed to happen. Police Chief Rafe Sullivan knows he has to find answers fast before another woman is lured to her death--but Sullivan literally doesn't have a clue.
Flaxen-haired cuties are dying at a rapid clip in a small Southern town, so who does the FBI send to help incredulous Chief of Police Rafe Sullivan Agent Isabel Adams, a psychic and (surprise) an unabashed blonde. Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information. -- PUBLISHERS WEEKLY.
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December 31, 2002
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Excerpt from Sense of Evil by Kay Hooper
Rafe Sullivan rose from his crouched position, absently stretching muscles that had begun to cramp, and muttered, "Well, shit," under his breath.
It was already hot and humid even just before noon, the sun burning almost directly overhead in a clear blue sky, and he absently wished he'd had his people put up a tarp to provide some shade. The effort wouldn't be worthwhile now; another half hour, and the coroner's wagon would be here.
The body sprawled at his feet was a bloody mess. She lay on her back, arms wide, legs apart, spread-eagled in a pathetically exposed, vulnerable position that made him want to cover her up--even though she was more or less dressed. Her once-white blouse was dull red, soaked with blood and still mostly wet despite the heat, so that the coppery smell was strong. The thin, springlike floral skirt was eerily undamaged but blood-soaked, spread out around her hips, the hem almost daintily raised to just above her knees.
She had been pretty once. Now, even though her face was virtually untouched, she wasn't pretty anymore. Her delicate features were contorted, eyes wide and staring, mouth open in a scream she probably never had the chance or the breath to utter. From the corners of her parted lips, trails of blood ran down her cheeks, some of it mixing with the golden strands of her long blond hair and a lot of it soaking into the ground around her.
She had been pretty once.
"Looks like he was really pissed this time, Chief. Bit like the first victim, I'd say." Detective Mallory Beck made the observation dryly, seemingly unmoved by the gory scene before them.
Rafe looked at her, reading the truth in her tightened lips and grim eyes. But all he said was, "Am I wrong, or did this one fight him "
Mallory consulted her notebook. "Doc just did the preliminary, of course, but he says she tried. Defensive injuries on the victim's hands, and one stab wound in her back--which the doc says was probably the first injury."
Shifting his gaze to the body, Rafe said, "In the back So she was trying to turn--or run--away from him when he stabbed her the first time. And either he turned her around so he could finish her face-to-face or she turned herself trying to fight him."
"Looks like it. And only a few hours ago; we got the call on this one earlier than the others. The doc estimates the time of death as around five-thirty this morning."
"Awfully early to be up and out," Rafe commented. "Caleb opens his office between nine-thirty and ten as a rule. She was still his paralegal, right "