Cross and Burn: A Tony Hill & Carol Jordan Novel (Tony Hill and Carol Jordan)

Cross and Burn: A Tony Hill & Carol Jordan Novel (Tony Hill and Carol Jordan)

Val McDermid

Language: English

Pages: 464

ISBN: 0802122779

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


“McDermid is at the top of her form in this sizzling story. . . . You will not put this one down until the final sentence.”—Margaret Cannon, The Globe and Mail

“Hill and Jordan dominate as brilliantly as ever.”—The Times (Saturday Review) (UK)

Val McDermid’s Tony Hill and Carol Jordan novels are thrillers at their best—unbearably suspenseful, psychologically complex, expertly plotted and impossible to predict—and they have riveted millions worldwide. As Cross and Burn opens, Tony and Carol are facing the biggest challenge of their professional lives: how to live without each other. No one has seen Carol in three months, and without her, the police brass no longer want Tony’s services. Even more damaging is the fact that they both hold Tony responsible for the bloody havoc their last case wreaked on Carol’s life and family, and Carol has sworn she’ll never speak to Tony again. But just because Tony and Carol’s relationship is finished doesn’t mean the killing is. A body has been discovered in an abandoned flat inhabited by squatters. As connections to other missing or dead women emerge, a horrifying pattern becomes clear: someone is killing women, all of whom bear a striking resemblance to Carol Jordan. And when the evidence begins to point in a disturbing and unexpected direction, thinking the unthinkable seems the only possible answer.

“Pure reading joy! Welcome back, queen of crime Val McDermid.”—The Florida Times-Union

“Fiendishly clever . . . The ingenious way in which [the villain] tests the mettle of Hill and Jordan is not to be missed by fans of the unusual sleuthing duo.”—Publishers Weekly (starred review)

Black Wind

Snakeskin Road

Breakheart Hill

Romance (87th Precinct, Book 47)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

but unlike Tony’s, everything was organised in neat piles. The only wall space not fitted with shelves was covered by a colourful patchwork hanging that appeared to be an impressionistic image of a mountain landscape. Maggie waved Carol to a chair and settled herself behind the tidy desk. ‘So, what’s all this about?’ Carol took Tony’s letter out of her bag. ‘I’m here under false colours, I’m afraid. I’m not a police officer any longer. I’m working with Bronwen Scott, who is a criminal defence

Carol had got into the habit of drinking her coffee and eating a bowl of cereal with tinned fruit in the room where she slept, music pouring out of the tall speakers that bookended the work table. Every morning, it was Michael’s final playlist, the last music he’d been listening to while he worked. A mixture of Michael Nyman, Ludovico Einaudi and Brad Mehldau. Nothing she would ever have chosen. But she was growing comfortable with it. She ate quickly, eager to return to the hard physical work

this morning will have been put on the computer and circulated nationally. Tomorrow, they’ll get started on the painstaking stuff of tracking down friends, checking out any activity on her bank accounts and credit cards.’ ‘Why are they waiting so long? Why aren’t they doing it right now?’ His voice was a howl of outrage. Because it’s not a priority. Because they’d rather be at the football. Because nobody else is worried about her the way you are. ‘Because these things are all easier to do

place for dinner? That would be a big fat zero. We always eat out, remember?’ ‘You could have come if you’d wanted to.’ At the top of the stairs Paula turned and pulled a face at Stacey. ‘You are such a liar. Look, I’m actually glad you’re seeing him.’ ‘Dinner. I didn’t even cook,’ Stacey said firmly. ‘I had it catered.’ ‘It’s a start.’ Stacey looked around the landing, her lips pursed, hands on her hips. ‘So where is this computer? And who is this woman?’ Paula pointed to the cubbyhole

days before Carol had made some subtle changes that Tony had barely noticed happening. ‘Who are you?’ ‘You remember that serial killer in Bradfield last year? Young male victims?’ Something shifted in Dr Gold’s expression. ‘You’re the profiler.’ Tony nodded. There was nothing more to be said. Either Jacob Gold would bite or he wouldn’t. They stood, eyeing each other up, heedless of the conference bustle around them. ‘Come and talk to me next week. I’m based in Leeds. You can contact me via

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