Harlan Coben - Play Dead

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Play Dead: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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Publisher's Weekly
Terrible secrets lead basketball star David Baskin to fake his death while honeymooning in the tropics in this manipulative but otherwise engaging first novel. His bereaved bride, supermodel Laura Ayars, not sure that David's drowning was accidental, starts sleuthing-which proves dangerous when somebody begins killing people who may have the answers she wants. Meanwhile, David, fitted out with a new identity and appearance, tries out for his original team, the Boston Celtics, and ''replaces'' himself at his former position. Why he has faked his death is explained in the story's penultimate surprise. But why he risks playing in front of fans who know his style is never addressed. Crucial coincidences abound, such as the love affair of David's brother and Laura's sister-adults who, as kids 30 years before, just happen to have witnessed their parents' worst sins. Coben manufactures tension primarily by keeping key details out of his narrative, a method that eventually wears thin. The resolution comes as a relief, with less of a bang than its buildup promises.
Library Journal
Despite its fundamental implausibility, this is an engrossing suspense novel. A star pro basketball player, David Baskin, disappears on his honeymoon, and a mutilated, drowned body is assumed to be his. But strange things are happening to his beautiful widow. And a few months later, a total unknown startles the basketball world with a highly professional style of play exactly like Baskin's. The mystery has its origins in a murder 30 years earlier. The reader's suspicions about what actually happened to Baskin, and about the identity of the murderer, shift as layers of lies are stripped away. Despite the basketball, this is primarily great romantic suspense.- Marylaine Block, St. Ambrose Univ. Lib., Davenport, Ia.
School Library Journal
When Laura Ayers and David Baskin secretly marry, it is a match made in heaven. She is a former model turned entrepreneur, while he is the Boston Celtics basketball sensation. But tragedy strikes on their Australian honeymoon when David never returns from a swim in treacherous waters. As Laura struggles with her grief, events unfold to make her question David's mysterious disappearance. She begins to uncover a conspiracy of past and present that slowly destroys all those involved. Coben weaves a delicate web of intrigue that throws alternating suspicion on each person Laura trusts. A fast-moving thriller with a rapidly twisting plot that keeps readers in suspense until the final page. -Katherine Fitch, Jefferson Sci-Tech, Alexandria, VA

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He feigned panic. ‘Where are you going?’

Her smile grew. ‘Back to bed.’

‘Please, no.’ He held up his hand to ward her off. ‘You’re going to put me in the hospital.’

She kept walking.

‘Vitamin E,’ David pleaded. ‘Please.’

She did not stop.

‘I’m going to scream rape.’

‘Scream.’

His voice was barely audible. ‘Help.’

‘Relax, Baskin. I’m not going to attack you.’

His face registered disappointment. ‘You’re not?’

She shook her head, turned, and began to walk away.

‘Wait,’ he called after her. ‘Where are you going?’

‘To the Jacuzzi. I’d invite you to join me but I know how tired you are.’

‘I feel a second wind coming on.’

‘Your powers of recuperation are truly incredible.’

‘Thank you, Mrs B.’

‘But you’re still out of shape.’

‘Out of shape?’ David repeated. ‘Playing against the Lakers isn’t this exhausting.’

‘You need to work out.’

‘I’ll try harder, Coach, really I will. You just tell me what to do.’

‘To the Jacuzzi,’ Laura commanded.

She threw a silk robe over her shoulders, partially covering the gorgeous figure that had made her the world’s highest paid fashion model up until her early retirement four years ago at the tender age of twenty-three. David slid out from under the satin sheets. He was tall, a shade under six-five, which was on the short side for a pro basketball player.

Laura eyed his naked physique admiringly. ‘No wonder they say you’ve revolutionized the game.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Your ass, White Lightning. Women come to the game just to watch it wiggle down court.’

‘You make me feel so cheap.’

David filled the circular tub with hot water and turned on the jet streams. He uncorked a bottle of champagne and lowered his muscular frame into the water. Laura loosened her robe and began to take it off. Talk about paradise. Everything was perfect. The phone rang.

Laura rolled her eyes. ‘I better get it,’ she said reluctantly, retying the silk cord and heading back into the bedroom. David leaned back, his legs floating in the water. He felt the warm streams massage his aching body. His muscles were still sore from the rugged play-offs even though they had ended almost a month ago. He smiled. The Celtics had won so it was a good ache.

‘Who was it?’ he asked when she came back in.

‘Nobody.’

‘Nobody called us in Australia?’

‘It was just the Peterson Group.’

‘The Peterson Group?’ David repeated. ‘Aren’t they the company you’ve been trying to get to carry the Svengali line in the South Pacific?’

‘The same.’

‘The company that you’ve been trying like hell to set up a meeting with for the past six months?’

‘You got it.’

‘So?’

‘So they want to meet with me today.’

‘When are you going?’

‘I’m not.’

‘What?’

‘I told them I couldn’t meet with them while I was on my honeymoon. My husband is very possessive, you know.’

David sighed out loud. ‘If you blow this opportunity, your husband is going to kick your ass. Besides, how are you going to support him in the style to which he’s become accustomed if you blow big opportunities?’

Laura’s robe fell to the floor and, though he had seen her body so many times since they fell in love two years ago, he still found himself gaping. She joined him in the tub, her eyes closing as she released a long breath. David watched the water surround her breasts. Her black hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing that incredible European-exotic face.

‘Don’t worry,’ she said, opening her sparkling blue eyes with flecks of silvery gray. She gave him a look that could slice through solid steel. ‘I promise you’ll be well taken care of.’

He shook his head. ‘What happened to that business-first bitch I fell in love with?’

She placed her foot between his legs, probing. ‘She loves it when you talk dirty.’

‘But – ’

‘Forget it, Baskin. I’m not leaving my husband for even a moment.’

He groaned. ‘Look, we have three weeks together. If I spend twenty-four hours a day with you for three weeks, you’ll drive me nuts. For my sake, go. Go to the meeting. You’re already getting to be a pest.’

‘Smooth talker. No wonder I fell for you.’ She leaned forward and massaged his powerful legs. ‘Did I ever tell you that you have great legs?’

‘Frequently. And what’s with all the compliments? You trying to give me a swollen head?’

Her foot circled and then rested against him. ‘Feels to me like I already have.’

He looked properly shocked. ‘That kind of language from last year’s businesswoman of the year? I’m stunned, ashamed… and aroused. Mostly aroused.’

She moved closer to him, her full firm bosoms pressing against his chest. ‘Why don’t we do something about that?’

‘Only if you promise to meet with the Peterson Group afterwards.’

Her lips found his ear. ‘Sometimes I don’t understand you,’ she whispered. ‘Men are supposed to feel threatened by a woman with a career.’

‘A very successful career,’ he corrected proudly. ‘And if I was one of those men, you would have dumped me long ago.’

‘Never,’ she said softly, ‘but if I do go, how will you keep yourself occupied while I’m gone?’

He cupped her buttocks in his strong hands and lifted her on top of him, his lips inches from her nipple. ‘I’ll shoot some hoops,’ he said. ‘Like you said before, I’m out of shape. Do you promise or not?’

She felt his breath on her skin. ‘Men, They’re always using their bodies to get their way.’

‘Promise?’

His hardness was just below her. She ached for him, her body quivering. She was barely able to nod.

He lowered her onto him. She gasped and then cried out, wrapping her arms around his head. Her body rocked back and forth, her fingers digging into his hair, clutching his face into her breasts.

Laura rose from the bed, gently kissed a sleeping David, and showered. She dried off her long, supple legs and began to get dressed. She wore very little make-up, just light touches around the eyes. Her olive complexion did not need cosmetics to enhance its God-given glow. Laura put on a gray professional suit bearing her Svengali label and buttoned her white blouse.

Laura was full-breasted – not what most would consider huge but when she first began modeling ten years ago, she was considered almost too large for conventional modeling, except bathing suits and face shots. Her agency wanted her to strap down her chest during runway events, which Laura would not do, comparing it to asking a man to tie his testicles against his inner thigh. But once she appeared on Cosmo, nothing could stop her career. Laura was the face and body you could not see enough and along with some of her colleagues like Paulina Porizkova and Elle Macpherson, she helped bring cleavage back into style – if indeed it had ever really been out.

David stirred, sat up, looked at his wife of four days. ‘The transformation is complete.’

‘Transformation?’

‘From nymphomaniac to business barracuda. I feel sorry for this Peterson fellow.’

Laura laughed. ‘I shouldn’t be more than an hour or two.’ She put on her earrings and walked over to kiss David. ‘Will you miss me?’

‘Not even a little.’

‘Bastard.’

David threw back the blankets and stood. ‘You kiss your mother with that mouth?’

She glanced over his rugged build, shaking her head. ‘Incredible,’ she muttered. ‘You expect me to leave that body for even a little while?’

‘Uh-oh.’

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