Chapters (92)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Chapter 66
- Chapter 67
- Chapter 68
- Chapter 69
- Chapter 70
- Chapter 71
- Chapter 72
- Chapter 73
- Chapter 74
- Chapter 75
- Chapter 76
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- Discover More James Patterson
- About the Authors
- Raves forJames Patterson
- James Patterson Recommends
- Invisible
- The First Lady
- The Cornwalls Vanish
- Never Never
- Visit JamesPatterson.com
He said some prayers in Russian, or maybe in Ukrainian. He blessed the coffin. He held his right hand on the coffin itself and continued to speak softly in the foreign tongue. When he finished that prayer, he asked that Blumenthal and I touch the coffin. We did, holding our hands on the coffin precisely as the priest had.
I said the Hail Mary. Blumenthal said something in Hebrew. The entire program took no longer than fifteen minutes, maybe not even that. The priest gave the final blessing:
Have compassion on me, the work of your hands, O Lord.
Cleanse me through your loving-kindness.
And that was it. It was over, all over.
I couldn’t help but think in police terms: the terror, the horror, the tragedy, all finished, solved and resolved. Case closed.
Both Leon Blumenthal and I said good-bye to the priest and walked to our car.
As we walked away, Leon Blumenthal turned to me and said, “That was pretty sad.” Then he took my hand and held it gently. “So what do you think about all this, Lucy?” he asked as we walked.
I looked up at him, and I considered, as always, telling him exactly what I was thinking. “You really want to know what I think?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. “I really do.”
“I think we just had a helluva first date.”
Acknowledgments
Thanks to the two splendid midwives who helped birth this book, Lizzie Witten and Eileen Conde.
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About the Authors
JAMES PATTERSON is the world’s bestselling author and most trusted storyteller. He has created many enduring fictional characters and series, including Alex Cross, the Women’s Murder Club, Michael Bennett, Maximum Ride, Middle School, and I Funny. Among his notable literary collaborations are The President Is Missing, with President Bill Clinton, and the Max Einstein series, produced in partnership with the Albert Einstein Estate. Patterson’s writing career is characterized by a single mission: to prove that there is no such thing as a person who “doesn’t like to read,” only people who haven’t found the right book. He’s given over three million books to schoolkids and the military, donated more than seventy million dollars to support education, and endowed over five thousand college scholarships for teachers. For his prodigious imagination and championship of literacy in America, Patterson was awarded the 2019 National Humanities Medal. The National Book Foundation presented him with the Literarian Award for Outstanding Service to the American Literary Community, and he is also the recipient of an Edgar Award and nine Emmy Awards. He lives in Florida with his family.
RICHARD DiLALLO is a former advertising executive. He lives in Manhattan with his wife.
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“Patterson knows where our deepest fears are buried…There’s no stopping his imagination.”
—New York Times Book Review