Hand of Evil (Ali Reynolds Series)

Hand of Evil (Ali Reynolds Series)

J.A. Jance

Language: English

Pages: 416

ISBN: 1416537740

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


In this heart stopping New York Times bestseller, Jance weaves a masterful story of suspense that travels over generations, revealing two very different women with one horrifying secret.

With his hand trapped in the door of a speeding car, a man struggles to remain upright as he’s dragged along a deserted stretch of San Juan Road in Phoenix’s South Mountain Preserve. It’s the perfect place to drive a man to his grave—literally. Starting with a crime so gruesome even prowling coyotes keep their distance from the remains, a killer begins crisscrossing the Southwest on a spree of grisly murders.

A hundred miles away, Ali Reynolds is grieving. The newscasting job she once delighted in is gone and so is the philandering husband she loved and thought she knew. When a wealthy but distant member of her family unexpectedly asks her for a meeting, Ali wonders what it can mean. Before she can satisfy her curiosity, though, Ali receives another startling call: a friend’s teenage daughter has disappeared. Ali offers to help, but in doing so, she unknowingly begins a quest that will reveal a deadly ring of secrets, at the center of which stand two undiscriminating killers...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

off. Then he was supposed to pick up a load of groceries and clothes and blankets and deliver them to the folks up on the Rim. He did come to your place, didn’t he?” “Yes, but not this morning,” Ali said. “He didn’t show up with the credenza until after lunch. He said something came up.” “Something must have come up all right,” Bob sniffed. “When Kip didn’t turn up this afternoon, your mother was convinced he fell off the wagon.” “Do you think Kip stole the Bronco?” Ali asked. “Did you call

countered. “Don’t be so sure, Mom,” Chris said with a laugh. “Most of the time I was lucky and didn’t get caught.” By then, Ali was back at her car. “I’m hanging up now,” she said. “I’m going to drive over to the freeway and see if I can spot her between here and there. Maybe Crystal’s trying to hitch a ride back home.” Once in her Cayenne, Ali drove straight to I-17. Heading north, she checked entrance and exit ramps as far as Bethany Home Road, all to no avail. Frustrated beyond bearing but

glance around the room, Richey sat next to her looking as though he hoped a hole would somehow open in the floor and swallow him. “Mom,” he pleaded. “Can’t we just go?” “No,” Roxie said. “Since Ali’s such an important part of your father’s life, it’s high time the two of us met.” “Look,” Ali said forcefully. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Dave and I are good friends—we’ve always been friends. He asked me to look after Crystal because it was an emergency situation with work, and he didn’t have

sources, printed them, and handed them over to Ali, who read through them one at a time. For ease of study, Ali sorted the assembled articles into stacks, one for each person involved. It didn’t take long for Ali to realize that the Ashcroft menfolk were definitely front and center in all this while the women faded into the background. There was far more information about Anna Lee Askins Ashcroft after she had moved to Sedona than there had been while she was still in California. It was as

asked. Brooks didn’t answer for some time. “Well?” Larry pressed. “Perhaps,” Brooks admitted at last. “How?” “There was a problem with the mileage.” “What kind of problem?” Larry Marsh asked. “On the Rolls. I keep track of the mileage each time I get gas. On Thursday, when I went to fill up, I noticed there was a two-hundred-plus-mile discrepancy between what I had written down last week and what was showing on the odometer. I thought I’d just forgotten to make the proper notation. It

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