Don’t Look Twice
A breathtaking novel of suspense from the co-author five No 1 James Patterson bestsellers including Judge and Jury and Lifeguard, and the hit thrillers The Blue Zone and The Dark TideA drive-by shootingA dead public attorneyA gangland vendettaFor Ty Hauck, the local detective who gets caught in the cross-fire, it seems as if inner-city violence has invaded his quiet Greenwich suburb. Or does someone just want it to appear that way?Hauck knows there is far more at stake than preliminary digging indicates - maybe stretching as far as Washington and the Senate. And everyone, from the FBI to his own family, wants him to stop looking.But Ty ignores the warnings… with devastating and explosive consequences.
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DON’T LOOK TWICE
Andrew Gross
TO MY BROTHERS,
MICHAEL AND RICK
Contents
Title PagePart OneChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter FiveChapter SixChapter SevenChapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter ElevenChapter TwelveChapter ThirteenChapter FourteenChapter FifteenChapter SixteenChapter SeventeenChapter EighteenChapter NineteenChapter TwentyChapter Twenty-OneChapter Twenty-TwoChapter Twenty-ThreeChapter Twenty-FourChapter Twenty-FiveChapter Twenty-SixChapter Twenty-SevenChapter Twenty-EightChapter Twenty-NineChapter ThirtyPart TwoChapter Thirty-OneChapter Thirty-TwoChapter Thirty-ThreeChapter Thirty-FourChapter Thirty-FiveChapter Thirty-SixChapter Thirty-SevenChapter Thirty-EightChapter Thirty-NineChapter FortyChapter Forty-OneChapter Forty-TwoChapter Forty-ThreeChapter Forty-FourChapter Forty-FiveChapter Forty-SixChapter Forty-SevenChapter Forty-EightChapter Forty-NineChapter FiftyChapter Fifty-OneChapter Fifty-TwoChapter Fifty-ThreeChapter Fifty-FourChapter Fifty-FiveChapter Fifty-SixChapter Fifty-SevenChapter Fifty-EightChapter Fifty-NineChapter SixtyChapter Sixty-OneChapter Sixty-TwoChapter Sixty-ThreeChapter Sixty-FourChapter Sixty-FiveChapter Sixty-SixChapter Sixty-SevenChapter Sixty-EightChapter Sixty-NineChapter SeventyChapter Seventy-OneChapter Seventy-TwoChapter Seventy-ThreeChapter Seventy-FourChapter Seventy-FivePart ThreeChapter Seventy-SixChapter Seventy-SevenChapter Seventy-EightChapter Seventy-NineChapter EightyChapter Eighty-OneChapter Eighty-TwoChapter Eighty-ThreeChapter Eighty-FourChapter Eighty-FiveChapter Eighty-SixChapter Eighty-SevenPart FourChapter Eighty-EightChapter Eighty-NineChapter NinetyChapter Ninety-OneChapter Ninety-TwoChapter Ninety-ThreeChapter Ninety-FourEpilogueAcknowledgmentsAbout the AuthorNovels By Andrew Gross and James PattersonCopyrightAbout the Publisher
“Mango Meltdown or Berry Blast?”
Ty Hauck scanned the shelves of the Exxon station’s refrigerated cooler.
“Whatever…” his thirteen-year-old daughter, Jessie, responded with a shrug, her eyes alighting on something more appealing. “What about this?”
Powie Zowie.
Hauck reached inside and read the brightly colored label. Megajolt of caffeine. Highest bang for the buck.
“Your mother lets you drink this stuff?” he asked skeptically.
Jessie looked back at him. “Mom’s not exactly here, is she?”
“No.” Hauck nodded, meeting her gaze. “I guess she’s not.”
In just the past year, forbidding new curves had sprung up on his daughter’s once-childlike body. Bra straps peeking out from under her tank top. Jeans clinging to the hips in an “unnatural” way. Gangly suddenly morphing into something a bit more in the range of troubling. Not to mention the newly mastered repertoire of eye rolls, shrugs, and exaggerated sighs. Hauck wondered if the request for an ankle tattoo or a belly piercing could be far behind. “You don’t get to win,” a friend who had teenage daughters once warned him. “You only delay.”
Jesus, he recalled, it was just a year ago that sheliked to get shoulder rides from me.
“Toss it in the basket,” he said, acquiescing. “One.”
Jessie shrugged without even the slightest smile, failing to grasp the significance of his offering. “Okay.”
At the end of the aisle, a man in a green down vest and tortoiseshell glasses reached into the cooler and met Hauck’s gaze. His amused, empathetic smile seemed to say, Know exactly whatyou’re going through, man!
Hauck grinned back.
A year had passed since the Grand Central bombing. A year since the events set in motion by the hit-and-run accident down on Putnam Avenue had thrust Hauck out of his long slumber and into the public eye. In that year, Hauck had been on the morning news shows and MSNBC and Greta Van Susteren, the case rocking not just the tall iron gates of the Loire-styled mansions out on North Avenue, but the financial circles in New York as well. It had turned Hauck into a bit of a reluctant celebrity—the object of friendly ribbing from his staff and the local merchants along the avenue. Even his old hockey buddies, who used to tip their mugs to him because of how he once tore up the football league at Greenwich High, now joked about whether he knew Paris or Nicole, or could get them past the bouncers into some fancy new club in the city on a Saturday night. Finally Hauck just had to step back, get his life in order.
And keep things on a steady keel with Karen, whose husband’s death had been at the heart of the case.
And with whom he had fallen in love.
At first, it had been hard to bridge all the differences between them. She was rich. Hauck was the head of detectives on the local force. Their families, lifestyles, didn’t exactly merge. Not to mention all the attention the case had generated. That in solving the mystery of her husband’s death Hauck had unleashed something buried and now restless inside her. In the past year, her father, Mel, had taken ill with Parkinson’s. Her mother wasn’t handling it well. Karen had gone down to Atlanta to help take care of him, with her daughter away at Tufts and her son, Alex, now sixteen, recruited to play lacrosse at an upstate prep school.
