The Devil You Know: A Thriller (Volume 4) (A Hayley Chill Thriller) - Hardcover

Hauty, Chris

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 1982175885 ISBN 13: 9781982175887

Verlag: Atria/Emily Bestler Books, 2023

Inhaltsangabe

A Supreme Court justice is murdered and a conspiracy with potentially cataclysmic effects is uncovered in this adrenaline-charged entry in the nationally bestselling “propulsive, page-turning, compelling” (C.J. Box, #1 New York Times bestselling author) Hayley Chill series.

When a justice of the Supreme Court is killed by the police officer assigned to protect him, the country is shocked. Hayley Chill’s superiors suspect the assassination is part of a major conspiracy.

In Maui, where one member of the Supreme Court owns a vacation home, a busload of children is taken hostage with the justice’s death as ransom. Together with a deputy US marshal, Hayley embarks on the monumental task of rescuing the children while also protecting the justice. “With plot twists that keep you guessing, and a heroine who makes you stand up and cheer, The Devil You Know is a knockout” (Don Bentley, New York Times bestselling author).

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Chris Hauty’s debut, Deep State, was a New York Times Book Review Editors’ Choice, and Barry Award nominee. Other novels include the CALIBA Award–nominated Savage Road, and Storm Rising, as well as the acclaimed novella Insurrection Day. He currently lives in Glendale, California.

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Chapter 1: Bar Bathroom Paramour

CHAPTER 1 BAR BATHROOM PARAMOUR

Hayley Chill needed a drink. Having watched a burial crew put her kid sister in the ground five days after Christmas was today’s excuse. Yesterday’s justification had been different. Who could say about tomorrow?

She found the perfect place at the end of Third Street in West Logan, overlooking the Guyandotte River. Following the service and interment, Hayley laid low in her Chapmanville motel room for a few hours. Her needs were limited: a chair on which to sit and listen to the white noise of traffic outside on the main drag through town. Wishing to avoid well-meaning friends and grieving family members, Hayley had told no one where she was staying. The same motivation prompted her to drive ten miles south to fulfill another, more pressing necessity.

Hayley entered the West Virginia roadside tavern and paused to take stock of her refuge. Low ceiling and even lower light. A Cavaliers game on a muted television over the cash register. Murmuring patrons seated at the bar and tables, their coats and jackets hanging haphazardly from seat backs or draped over stools. The bluegrass music coming over the sound system was a pleasant surprise. Hayley also scrutinized the rows of bottles on either side of the register that were backlit to colorful effect.

Yes. This place will do just fine.

She grabbed a stool at the bar, two empty seats to her left and right.

The bartender—big, bald, bearded, and wearing an Elk River Ramblers T-shirt—responded to Hayley’s predatory stare soon enough.

“Tequila,” she said.

“Jose Cuervo?”

She shook her head. “Whiskey. Beer chaser.”

The truth was, Hayley had been hitting the green bottle of La Gritona she’d packed in her bag pretty much all day. Tammy’s overdose three days earlier was a brutal shock, only the latest in a series of traumas, but it wasn’t until she had arrived in town that the full brunt of fury and grief descended on her. Returning home wasn’t a trivial matter. Too many bad memories. Too much heartache. The last time Hayley saw her kid sister alive was more than six months ago, the occasion being—unironically—another overdose-induced funeral. Tammy seemed perfectly fine then, thrilled to be pregnant with her first child. Now that six-month-old baby boy had lost his mother, and Hayley, a sister she loved. At the funeral, she couldn’t help but worry how long before her baby nephew was orphaned entirely, judging by the sallow appearance of Jeff, the boy’s father.

What a god-awful mess.

The bartender delivered the goods. Shooting the whiskey, Hayley replaced the glass on the bar ahead of the mug of cold beer, an unmissable signal she wanted a refill. Bald and Bearded dutifully poured another. Before Hayley could lift the shot glass, the inevitable guy appeared at her elbow. Fives and ones clasped in his right hand. Requisite trucker cap. A mole on his left cheek like some John-Boy Walton come to life.

Hayley felt his gaze on her.

“What’s up?” she asked with flat intonation.

Back home, Hayley had inadvertently lapsed into the soft drawl and WV dialect of her childhood.

John-Boy said, “Come from around here sounds like.”

“Twenty or so miles north. Green Shoals. I moved along after high school. Doubt we ever crossed paths.”

He offered his hand with a confident-bordering-on-arrogant grin. “Derrick.”

Hayley pegged him for a Logan High School football star, and she wasn’t wrong. Derrick Getty hadn’t put on much additional weight like so many other high school jocks by their thirtieth year. Her sandy-haired barstool paramour was in excellent shape, broad-shouldered, and tall enough to seem gargantuan in the cavern-like barroom.

Hayley had noticed him glancing to his left once or twice as he spoke. Five other locals Getty’s age, male and female, were sitting at a large table near the front door.

Grew up here. Going to grow old and die here.

She had managed to escape this world. Most don’t.

Getty’s hand was still hanging in midair. She relented and shook it with minimal enthusiasm.

“Hayley.”

“Nice to meet you, Hayley.”

The guy actually winked after he said her name. Bald and Bearded served up a pitcher of beer to him without having been asked. Getty made no move to return to his table.

Hayley shot the second whiskey and replaced the empty glass in the refill zone.

Her suitor responded with a low whistle of admiration.

“I can sure respect a woman who knows how to drink. Any other skills?” he asked with what he imagined was a devastating gaze.

Hayley Chill was a US Army veteran, one of the first women to earn a blue cord. Until recently, she’d been employed by a clandestine association—former presidents, ex–Supreme Court justices, retired directors from the intelligence community, and other discharged heavyweights of the US government—that called itself Publius. Not so much the deep state as a deeper state. Among other deeds, Hayley had saved a sitting president from assassination, stopped a massive cyberattack on the Eastern Seaboard, and helped prevent a second US civil war. Personal losses she’d suffered in the past year compelled her to retreat from further involvement with the group. Her main agenda since that self-imposed hiatus was to avoid thinking. Stop remembering. Exist barely above sentient. The alcohol wasn’t an ideal facilitator of that action list, but the cost was right and it didn’t leave track marks.

She held Getty’s gaze with her powder blue eyes. “Got nothing for you, stud.”

The former jock’s grin calcified. Grabbing the pitcher by the handle, he winked at Hayley again and strutted back to his table near the door.

“Is that fucking douchebag hassling you, miss?” asked the bartender. “Rushing for twenty-two hundred yards and thirty-one touchdowns in your senior year can sure do some weird shit to a dude.”

“Nothing I can’t handle, thanks.” She pointed her chin toward the empty shot glass. “Hit me again?”

Hayley Chill had reached that place, a kind of transcendent state. There was no stopping her now. Stripped of thought, memory, and restraint, she was on the verge of becoming pure energy.

How much loss am I expected to take?

She was washing her hands in the ladies’ room when the door banged open and her wink-happy suitor entered the cramped space. The arrogant smile on Getty’s face faltered for a moment in reaction to Hayley’s expressionless assessment of his bold intentions. The former high school running back flinched as her right hand sped toward him. But it continued past his unguarded torso and found the latch on the door. The sound of Hayley engaging the lock was all the signal Derrick Getty needed to close the distance between them.

He put his hands on Hayley’s shoulder and arm, pulling her mouth to his. Before their lips joined, however, she turned him like a failed assassin and pushed him backward into the single stall.

Dumb, dumb, dumb…

But action took precedence over caution. Any action would do.

Her finger found his belt and button fly. Straddling the toilet, the local...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Atria/Emily Bestler Books
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2023
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 1982175885
• ISBN 13: 9781982175887
• Einband: Gebundene Ausgabe
• Anzahl der Seiten: 336
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar