11th Hour Read online

  Contents

  About the Book

  About the Author

  Also in the Women’s Murder Club Series

  Also by James Patterson

  Title Page

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Book One: The House of Heads

  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

  Book Two: Media Circus

  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

  Book Three: Friends and Lovers

  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

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Chapter 88

  Chapter 89

  Chapter 90

  Chapter 91

  Chapter 92

  Book Four: In From the Cold

  Chapter 93

  Chapter 94

  Chapter 95

  Chapter 96

  Chapter 97

  Chapter 98

  Chapter 99

  Chapter 100

  Chapter 101

  Chapter 102

  Chapter 103

  Chapter 104

  Chapter 105

  Chapter 106

  Chapter 107

  Chapter 108

  Chapter 109

  Chapter 110

  Chapter 111

  Chapter 112

  Chapter 113

  Chapter 114

  Chapter 115

  Chapter 116

  Chapter 117

  Chapter 118

  Chapter 119

  Acknowledgments

  Author Note

  Copyright

  About the Book

  Detective Lindsay Boxer is pregnant – and investigating the discovery of severed heads in a movie star’s garden.

  Your best friend

  Lindsay Boxer is pregnant at last! But her work doesn’t slow for a second. When millionaire Chaz Smith is mercilessly gunned down, she discovers that the murder weapon is linked to the deaths of four of San Francisco’s most untouchable criminals. And it was taken from her own department’s evidence locker. Anyone could be the killer – even her closest friends.

  Or a vicious killer?

  Lindsay is called next to the most bizarre crime scene she’s ever witnessed: two bodiless heads elaborately displayed in the garden of a world-famous actor. Another head is unearthed in the garden, and Lindsay realises that the ground could hide hundreds of victims.

  You won’t know until the 11th hour

  A reporter launches a series of malicious articles about the cases and Lindsay’s personal life is laid bare. But this time she has no one to turn to – especially not Joe.

  About the Author

  JAMES PATTERSON is one of the best-known and biggest-selling writers of all time. He is the author of some of the most popular series of the past decade – the Alex Cross, Women’s Murder Club and Detective Michael Bennett novels – and he has written many other number one bestsellers including romance novels and stand-alone thrillers. He lives in Florida with his wife and son.

  James is passionate about encouraging children to read. Inspired by his own son who was a reluctant reader, he also writes a range of books specifically for young readers. James has formed a partnership with the National Literacy Trust, an independent, UK-based charity that changes lives through literacy. In 2010, he was voted Author of the Year at the Children’s Choice Book Awards in New York.

  THE WOMEN’S MURDER CLUB SERIES

  1st to Die

  2nd Chance (with Andrew Gross)

  3rd Degree (with Andrew Gross)

  4th of July (with Maxine Paetro)

  The 5th Horseman (with Maxine Paetro)

  The 6th Target (with Maxine Paetro)

  7th Heaven (with Maxine Paetro)

  8th Confession (with Maxine Paetro)

  9th Judgement (with Maxine Paetro)

  10th Anniversary (with Maxine Paetro)

  Also by James Patterson

  ALEX CROSS NOVELS

  Along Came a Spider • Kiss the Girls • Jack and Jill •

  Cat and Mouse • Pop Goes the Weasel • Roses are Red •

  Violets are Blue • Four Blind Mice • The Big Bad Wolf •

  London Bridges • Mary, Mary • Cross • Double Cross •

  Cross Country • Alex Cross’s Trial (with Richard DiLallo) •

  I, Alex Cross • Cross Fire • Kill Alex Cross

  DETECTIVE MICHAEL BENNETT SERIES

  Step on a Crack (with Michael Ledwidge) • Run for Your Life

  (with Michael Ledwidge) • Worst Case (with Michael Ledwidge) •

  Tick Tock (with Michael Ledwidge) • I, Michael Bennett

  (with Michael Ledwidge, to be published June 2012)

  PRIVATE NOVELS

  Private (with Maxine Paetro) • Private London

  (with Mark Pearson) • Private Games (with Mark Sullivan) •

  Private: No. 1 Suspect (with Maxine Paetro, to be

  published April 2012)

  STAND-ALONE THRILLERS

  Sail (with Howard Roughan) • Swimsuit (with Maxine Paetro) •

  Don’t Blink (with Howard Roughan) • Postcard Killers

  (with Liza Marklund) • Toys (with Neil McMahon) •

  Now You See Her (with Michael Ledwidge) • Kill Me If You Can

  (with Marshall Karp) • Guilty Wives (with David Ellis, to be published July 2012)

  NON-FICTION

  Torn Apart (with Hal and Cory Friedman) •

  The Murder of King Tut (with Martin Dugard)

  ROMANCE

  Sundays at Tiffany’s (with Gabrielle Charbonnet) •

  The Christmas Wedding (with Richard DiLa
llo)

  FAMILY OF PAGE-TURNERS

  MAXIMUM RIDE SERIES

  The Angel Experiment • School’s Out Forever •

  Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports •

  The Final Warning • Max • Fang • Angel • Nevermore

  (to be published August 2012)

  DANIEL X SERIES

  The Dangerous Days of Daniel X (with Michael Ledwidge) •

  Daniel X: Watch the Skies (with Ned Rust) • Daniel X: Demons

  and Druids (with Adam Sadler) • Daniel X: Game Over

  (with Ned Rust)

  WITCH & WIZARD SERIES

  Witch & Wizard (with Gabrielle Charbonnet) •

  Witch & Wizard: The Gift (with Ned Rust) •

  Witch & Wizard: The Fire (with Jill Dembowski)

  MIDDLE SCHOOL SERIES

  Middle School: The Worst Years of My Life (with Chris Tebbetts

  and Laura Park) • Middle School: Get Me Out of Here!

  (with Chris Tebbetts and Laura Park, to be published April 2012)

  ILLUSTRATED NOVELS

  Daniel X: Alien Hunter Graphic Novel (with Leopoldo Gout) •

  Maximum Ride: Manga Vol. 1 (with NaRae Lee) • Maximum

  Ride: Manga Vol. 2 (with NaRae Lee) • Maximum Ride: Manga

  Vol. 3 (with NaRae Lee) • Maximum Ride: Manga Vol. 4 (with

  NaRae Lee) • Maximum Ride: Manga Vol. 5 (with NaRae Lee)

  For more information about James Patterson’s novels, visit www.jamespatterson.co.uk

  Or become a fan on Facebook

  Prologue

  REVENGE

  One

  A GOOD-LOOKING MAN in his forties sat in the back row of the auditorium at the exclusive Morton Academy of Music. He was wearing a blue suit, white shirt, and a snappy striped tie. His features were good, although not remarkable, but behind the blue tint of his glasses, he had very kind brown eyes.

  He had come to the recital alone and had a passing thought about his wife and children at home, but then he refocused his attention on someone else’s child.

  Her name was Noelle Smith. She was eleven, a cute little girl and a very talented young violinist who had just performed a Bach gavotte with distinction.

  Noelle knew she’d done well. She took a deep bow with a flourish, grinning as two hundred parents in the audience clapped and whistled.

  As the applause died down, a gray-haired man in the third row popped up from his seat, buttoned his jacket, stepped out into the aisle, and headed toward the lobby.

  That man was Chaz Smith, Noelle’s father.

  The man in the blue suit waited several seconds, then followed Smith, staying back a few paces, walking along the cream-tiled corridor, then taking a right past the pint-size water fountain and into the short spur of a hallway that ended at the men’s room.

  After entering the men’s room, he looked beneath the stalls and saw Chaz Smith’s Italian loafers under the door at the far right. Otherwise, the room was empty. In a minute or two, the room would fill.

  The man in the blue suit moved quickly, picking up the large metal trash can next to the sink and placing it so that it blocked the exit.

  Then he called out, “Mr. Smith? I’m sorry to disturb you, but it’s about your car.”

  “What? Who is that?”

  “Your car, Mr. Smith. You left your lights on.”

  The man in the blue suit removed his semiauto .22-caliber Ruger from his jacket pocket, screwed on the suppressor. Then he took out a tan-colored plastic bag, the kind you get at the supermarket, and pulled the bag over his gun.

  Smith swore. Then the toilet flushed and Smith opened the door. His gray hair was mussed, white powder rimmed his nostrils, and his face showed fierce indignation.

  “You’re sure it’s my car?” he said. “My wife will kill me if I’m not back in my seat for the finale.”

  “I’m really sorry to do this to your wife and child. Noelle played beautifully.”

  Smith looked puzzled — then he knew. He dropped the vial of coke, and his hand dove under his jacket. Too late.

  The man in the blue suit lifted his bag-covered gun, pulled the trigger, and shot Chaz Smith twice between the eyes.

  Two

  A LONG SECOND bloomed like a white flower in the blue-tiled room.

  Smith stared at his killer, his blue eyes wide open, two bullet holes in his forehead weeping blood, a look of disbelief frozen on his face. He was still on his feet, but his heart had stopped.

  Chaz Smith was dead and he knew it.

  The shooter stared back at Smith, then reached out a hand and pushed him off his feet. The dead man fell into the stall, collapsing onto the seat, his head knocking once against the wall.

  It was a perfect setting for the late Chaz Smith. Dead on the toilet, a fitting last pose for this crud.

  “You deserved this. You deserved worse, you son of a bitch.”

  It had been a good kill, and now he had to get out.

  He put the plastic bag containing the shell casings, the GSR, and the gun back into his jacket pocket and closed the stall door.

  Then he carried the trash can out of the men’s room and put it down so that it blocked the door from the outside. That would hold people off for a while, make them think that the men’s room was temporarily closed.

  The man in the blue suit heard a rush of sound. The auditorium doors had opened for the crowd. He headed back by way of the main hallway, turning left just as people poured into the lobby, chattering and laughing. None of them noticed him, but even if they had, they would never have connected him to the dead man.

  There was a fire alarm box on the wall next to a door marked TEACHERS’ LOUNGE.

  Using his handkerchief to glove his hand, he opened the door to the box, lifted the hammer, broke the glass, and pulled the lever; the alarm bell shrilled.

  Then he walked directly into the thick of the crowd.

  Children were already starting to scream and run in circles in the lobby. Parents called out to their kids, took their hands or lifted them into their arms, and moved quickly toward the front doors.

  The man went with the crowd, through the glass doors and out onto California Street. He kept going, turned onto a side street, passed Chaz Smith’s Ferrari, and unlocked his scarred SUV parked right behind it.

  A moment later, he cruised slowly past the school. All the good people — the kids and their parents — were facing the building, staring up at the roof, watching for smoke and flames.

  They didn’t know it, but they were all safer now.

  Chaz Smith was only one of his targets. The media had started tracking this shooter’s kills — drug dealers, all of them. One of the papers had given him a nickname and it had stuck.

  Now they all called him Revenge.

  Fire engines approached from Thirty-Second Avenue, and the man called Revenge stepped on the gas. Not a good time to get stuck in a traffic jam.

  He had shopping to do before he went home to his family.

  Book One

  THE HOUSE OF HEADS

  Chapter 1

  YUKI CASTELLANO OPENED HER eyes. She was in her lover’s arms, in her mother’s bed. If she was dreaming, it was a pretty funny dream.

  She grinned to herself, almost seeing her dead mom sitting in the green slipper chair by the dresser, a look of disapproval on her face — and, as sometimes happened, her mother’s voice got into her head.

  Yuki-eh, you want to have hus-band. Not lover.

  Mom. Mom, he’s so great.

  He so married.

  Separated!

  Jackson Brady stirred beside her, pulled her toward him, lifted her hair, and kissed the side of her neck.

  She said, “It’s … early … you can sleep for another …”

  Yuki sighed as Brady ran his hands over her naked body, started her engine, and revved it up.

  Pillows went over the side, blankets bunched up at the footboard, and he fitted himself inside her. She cried out and he
said, “I’ve got you.”

  He did. He had her good.

  Gasping, they bit at each other, moved together in a race that they both won. They finished entangled in bedding and each other, both of them sweating, satisfied, amazed.

  “Oh my God.” Yuki sighed. “That was … just … okay.”

  Brady laughed. “You’re too much.”

  He kissed her again, put his fingers in the thick black curtain of her hair, watched as the strands fell through his fingers.

  “I have to go,” he said softly.

  “Not without coffee.”

  He gave her bottom a smack and got out of bed. Yuki turned on her side and watched Brady walking away from her. She took in his perfect body, his pale hair hanging almost to his shoulders, the simple Celtic cross tattooed on his back.

  When the bathroom door closed, Yuki got out of bed and put on a silk robe the color of watermelon, a gift from Brady.

  She stepped over the clothes they’d dropped on the floor last night, took one of his clean shirts out of a drawer, put it on the green chair. She listened to the shower and thought about Brady being in it.

  Tsutta sakana ni esa wa yaranai, said Keiko Castellano. A man won’t feed the fish he caught.

  Shut up, Mom. I love him.

  In the kitchen, Yuki opened the cupboard, got out the coffee beans, filled the coffeemaker with water. She put bread in the toaster.

  It wasn’t even 6:00 a.m. She didn’t have to be at her desk in the DA’s office until nine. But she didn’t mind getting up with Brady. She wanted to do it, because, jeez, she loved him. It was almost embarrassing how much, but God, she was happy. Maybe for the first time in her adult life.

  Nah, no maybe about it. This was definitely the happiest she’d been in twenty years.

  Brady came into the kitchen. His tie was knotted, shoulder holster buckled over his blue shirt, and he was shrugging into his jacket. He looked worried, and she knew he was already working on the case that had been tearing at his guts.

  She poured coffee, put buttered toast on a plate.

  He stirred a lot of sugar into the coffee mug, took a sip. He took another, then put the cup down.