Karin Slaughter - Skin Privilege

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It's no simple case of murder. Lena Adams has spent her life struggling to escape her past. She has only unhappy memories of Reece, the small town which nearly destroyed her. She's made a new life for herself as a police detective in Heartsdale, a hundred miles away – but nothing could prepare her for the violence which explodes when she is forced to return. A vicious murder leaves a young woman incinerated beyond recognition. And Lena is the only suspect. When Heartsdale police chief Jeffrey Tolliver, Lena's boss, receives word that his detective has been arrested, he has no choice but to go to Lena's aid – taking with him his wife, medical examiner Sara Linton. But soon after their arrival, a second victim is found. The town closes ranks. And both Jeffrey and Sara find themselves entangled in a horrifying underground world of bigotry and rage – a violent world which shocks even them. A world which puts their own lives in jeopardy. Only Jeffrey and Sara can free Lena from the web of lies, betrayal and brutality that has trapped her. But can they discover the truth before the killer strikes again?
***
'No one does American small-town evil more chillingly… Slaughter tells a dark story that grips and doesn't let go' The Times
'This is without doubt an accomplished, compelling and complex tale, with page-turning power aplenty' Daily Express
'Beautifully paced, appropriately grisly, and terrifyingly plausible' Time Out
'Slaughter knows exactly when to ratchet up the menace, and when to loiter on the more personal and emotional aspects of the victims. Thoroughly gripping, yet thoroughly gruesome stuff' Daily Mirror
'An explosive thriller with plenty of twists – this is criminally spectacular!' OK!
'A great read… This is crime fiction at its finest' Michael Connelly 'Slaughter's plotting is relentless, piling on surprises and twists… A good read that should come with a psychological health warning' Guardian
'Another brilliantly chilling tale from Slaughter' beat A fast-paced and unsettling story… A compelling and fluid read' Daily Telegraph
'Structured and paced brilliantly; the tension is unceasing throughout. Slaughter's shock tactics don't allow the reader to relax for a single moment' The Times
'Slaughter deftly turns all assumptions on their head. Her ability to make you buy into one reality then another, means that the surprises – and the violent scenes – keep coming' Time Out
'Don't read this alone. Don't read this after dark. But do read it' Daily Mirror
'A salutary reminder that Slaughter is one of the most riveting writers in the field today' Sunday Express
'Confirms her at the summit of the school of writers specialising in forensic medicine and terror… Slaughter's characters talk in believable dialogue. She's excellent at portraying the undertones and claustrophobia of communities where everyone knows everyone else's business, and even better at creating an atmosphere of lurking evil' The Times
'With Blindsighted, Karin Slaughter left a great many mystery writers looking anxiously over their shoulders. With Kisscut, she leaves most of them behind' John Connolly
'Slaughter's narrative is superb, a game of show and tell that constantly exhilarates as the next unexpected piece of the jigsaw fits into place' Birmingham Post
'Gripping, gruesome and definitely not for the faint-hearted' Woman Home
'Karin Slaughter is a fearless writer. She takes us to the deep, dark places other novelists don't dare to go. Kisscut will cement her reputation as one of the boldest thriller writers working today' Tess Gerritsen
'Unsparing, exciting, genuinely alarming… excellent handling of densely woven plot, rich in interactions, well characterised and as subtle as it is shrewd' Literary Review
'This gripping debut novel, filled with unremittingly graphic forensic details, is likely to have Patricia Cornwell and Kathy Reichs glancing nervously in their rearview mirrors because rookie Karin Slaughter is off the starting grid as quickly as Michael Schumacher and is closing on them fast' Irish Independent
'Brutal and chilling' Daily Mirror 'Energetic, suspenseful writing from Slaughter, who spares no detail in this bloody account of violent sexual crime but also brings compassion and righteous anger to it' Manchester Evening News
'It's not easy to transcend a model like Patricia Cornwell, but Slaughter does so in a thriller whose breakneck plotting and not-for-the-squeamish forensics provide grim manifestations of a deeper evil her mystery trumpets without ever quite containing' Kirkus Reviews
'A tension-filled narrative with plenty of plot twists… This is just the ticket for readers who like their crime fiction on the dark side' Booklist
'Wildly readable… [Slaughter] has been compared to Thomas Harris and Patricia Cornwell, and for once the hype is justified… deftly crafted, damnably suspenseful and, in the end, deadly serious. Slaughter's plotting is brilliant, her suspense relentless' Washington Post
'Slaughter has created a ferociously taut and terrifying story which is, at the same time, compassionate and real. I defy anyone to read it in more than three sittings' Denise Mina
'Wildly readable… hits the bull's eye' New York Post 'Taut, mean, nasty and bloody well written. She conveys a sense of time and place with clarity and definite menace – the finely tuned juxtaposition of sleepy Southern town and urgent, gut-wrenching terror' Stella Duffy
'Taut and tight and tinged with terror' Houston Chronicle 'A story that roars its way through the final pages, Slaughter's thriller is scary, shocking and perfectly suspenseful' BookPage.com
'The undertone of violence is pervasive, even at quiet moments, amplifying Slaughter's equation of intimacy with menace and placing her squarely in the ranks of Cornwell and Reichs' Publishers Weekly
'Slaughter's gift for building multi-layered tension while deconstructing damaged personalities gives this thriller a nerve-wracking finish' USA Today
'A page turner… has more twists than a Slinky Factory' People
'A debut novel that blows your socks off. Karin Slaughter has immediately jumped to the front of the line of first-rate thriller writers…' Rocky Mountain News

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'Oh, no…' Sara's voice was so low and the banging was so loud that Valentine obviously didn't hear her.

'What's-' Jeffrey looked up, his question caught in his throat. He knew exactly what had happened on the other side of that door.

Cook came into the room, a key in his hand. 'What's going on?'

Valentine snatched the key from him and slid it into the locked door. Steam from the shower filled the room. He strode inside and yanked back the curtain. The tub was empty.

'Motherfuck,' Valentine cursed. Above the toilet, a ceiling tile had been pushed back, exposing a narrow crawl space. 'Goddammit!' he screamed, kicking the wall. He told Cook, 'Search the hospital top to bottom. Call backup now.' Cook left, and Valentine looked right at Sara, saying, 'You bitch.'

Jeffrey grabbed the man by the collar and slammed him against the wall. 'You ever talk to my wife like that again and we're gonna have a real problem. You hear me?' Valentine tried to get away, but Jeffrey tightened his grip. 'You hear me?'

Valentine went limp like a kitten who'd been grabbed by the scruff of the neck. 'She let my prisoner escape.'

Jeffrey didn't let himself look at Sara, because he knew that she was thinking the same thing he was. Lena had tricked her. There was no getting around it.

He let the man go.

'Asshole.' Valentine jerked his shirt back into place, scowling. He shoved past Jeffrey as he went into the hallway. Jeffrey followed him around the corner and into the next room. The bed was empty, obviously unused. 'She let my prisoner escape,' Valentine snarled. 'I can't fucking believe I stood out in that hall letting you jerk me around while your wife was in there letting her escape.'

'Sara's not a part of this.'

'Why don't you do yourself a favor, buddy?' Valentine challenged. 'You get that wife of yours, and you get back into your car, and you get the fuck out of my town.'

Jeffrey didn't need to be asked politely. He turned without a word and went to find Sara.

She was still in Lena 's room, stricken. 'How could I have been so stupid? How could I-'

He took her by the elbow, leading her out of the room. 'We don't need to talk about that right now.'

'I shouldn't have been here in the first place.'

Jeffrey led her into the hallway. The rent-a-cops had been called in, all two of them. Both men looked older than Don Cook and just as fit for duty.

Valentine started barking orders in between screaming into his radio for more backup. 'I want her found nowV

Jeffrey pressed the button for the elevator. He glanced down the hall, figuring Lena 's escape. Obviously, she had pushed back the tile over the toilet and used the crawl space over the drop ceiling to access the bathroom on the other side. Then, she had probably sneaked down the stairs to the basement. The elevator opened onto the emergency room, though even if she'd taken that route, he doubted she would've caused much of a stir. The receptionist probably wouldn't have even looked up from her game of cards on the computer.

The elevator doors slid open. Jeffrey pressed his hand to Sara's back, urging her to get on. Valentine and one of the hospital cops trotted past the elevator as the doors closed, probably on their way to search the basement.

Jeffrey pressed the button for the second floor, wondering again why the car didn't go down to the first floor. Maybe there was a freight elevator Valentine had failed to mention. Lena could've used that to get downstairs, but then what? The laundry would have sheets and towels. There was probably a staff lounge, maybe lockers for the cleaning staff. She could find clothes, cash. Jeffrey figured she had taken what she needed and gotten out of the hospital as soon as possible.

'How could I be so stupid?' Sara repeated, shaking her head. Tears were in her eyes. He had seen her angry countless times, but there was nothing so savage as the anger she could direct toward herself.

He instructed, 'Tell me exactly what she said.'

'Just the same stuff – that we had to leave. She barely even looked at me.' She brushed away a tear with the back of her hand, her face white with fury.

'I'm so sorry,' she told him. 'This is all my fault.'

'I was standing out in the hallway,' Jeffrey tried. 'She used me, too.'

'Not like…' Sara shook her head, unable to finish the sentence. 'I unstrapped her, Jeffrey. I'm the one who let her go.'

'Did she ask you to release her?'

'No – yes. Not directly. She said she felt dirty, that she was covered in dirt, and I just walked over and took off the straps. I didn't think twice about it. I even helped her out of the bed.'

He tried to press gently. 'Did she say anything else?'

'She apologized to me.' Sara laughed at her own stupidity. 'She was acting so scared. Her hands were shaking, her voice kept catching. I've never seen her so upset – not since Sibyl died. I fell for it completely. God, I'm such an idiot.'

Jeffrey wrapped his hand around her shoulder, not knowing how to comfort her. He was so furious at Lena right now that he could barely think.

Sara said, 'A drop ceiling. Of all the people who should know you can climb over a drop ceiling…'

He knew what had happened to her all those years ago at Grady Hospital, that her attacker had dropped down from the bathroom ceiling. If Lena had put a knife in his back, Sara had just unwittingly twisted it. He told her, 'It's not your fault, Sara. You're not a cop.'

'Then why am I here?' she demanded fiercely. 'I should have stayed in the damn car. I should've just stayed home where I belong.'

The elevator doors slid open. Two more sheriff's deputies were running through the lobby toward the stairs.

'Let's just get out of here,' he told her, taking her by the arm. They were at the sliding doors when Valentine called to them.

'Hold on there,' he said, jogging to catch up. He was out of breath, probably from running up and down the stairs. He held out his hand, palm up. 'Give me the keys to your car.'

Had Sara not been there, Jeffrey would have told the man to go fuck himself. As it was, he silently tossed him the keys, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.

Valentine saw the BMW logo on the keyfob and gave Jeffrey the kind of look you'd give a whore on the street. Cops didn't drive BMWs, at least not where Jake Valentine came from.

'It's my wife's,' Jeffrey told him. Sara had worked her ass off to be able to drive that car. As far as he was concerned, she could drive a Rolls-Royce if she wanted to.

Valentine pressed the button on the keyfob and the locks snicked up. Suddenly, he stopped. 'Laundry room,' he said, glaring at Jeffrey. 'You asked what was on the bottom floor.'

'I was making small talk.'

'Don't bullshit me.'

Sara said, 'I'll be over here,' walking toward one of the benches in front of the entrance.

Valentine gave him another nasty look before going to the car. Jeffrey knew the man wouldn't find anything there. Even if Lena had seen the BMW in the parking lot, there was no way to jimmy the door locks or open the trunk without the key. Breaking a window wouldn't do any good, either. One of the car's safety features was that if you engaged the central locking system from the outside, nothing could be opened from the inside. Jeffrey had actually been trapped inside the car once when Sara accidentally hit the lock button as she ran into the house to catch the ringing telephone. If the sunroof hadn't been open so he could crawl out, Jeffrey would've been stuck in the car for hours.

The sheriff could clearly see the empty seats and floorboards through the windows, but he still opened the door to make sure, taking off his hat, peering inside like he might catch Lena hiding under the center console. He walked around to the back of the car and popped the trunk. Except for Sara's first-aid kit and a couple of grocery bags to be recycled at the store, it was empty.

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