Amazon.com
2nd Chance reconvenes the Women's Murder Club, four friends (a detective, a reporter, an assistant district attorney, and a medical examiner) who used their networking skills, feminine intuition, and professional wiles to solve a baffling series of murders in 1st to Die. This time, the murders of two African Americans, a little girl and an old woman, bear all the signs of a serial killer for Lindsay Boxer, newly promoted to lieutenant of San Francisco's homicide squad. But there's an odd detail she finds even more disturbing: both victims were related to city cops. A symbol glimpsed at both murder scenes leads to a racist hate group, but the taunting killer strikes again and again, leaving deliberate clues and eluding the police ever more cleverly. In the meantime, each of the women has a personal stake at risk--and the killer knows who they are.
2nd Chance speeds along at a Formula One pace through many tight curves, but unlike recent entries in the Alex Cross series, it doesn't sacrifice good characters to a twisted plot. Lindsay's the star, but there's a fine esprit de corps among the four women, who are even better developed here than in the first book. What makes them both convincing and interesting as a criminal-justice juggernaut is their willingness to stick their necks out, even if they suffer for it. If you haven't picked up a James Patterson novel in a while, this is a great time to start anew. --Barrie Trinkle
From Publishers Weekly
It's been a long time since we've seen a bestselling author of Patterson's clout credit an assistant author on the cover, and good for Patterson for that. The credit is deserved. This is Patterson's richest, most engaging novel since When the Wind Blows and, as the second in his Women's Murder Club series (after 1st to Die), yet more evidence that this prolific writer can roam beyond Alex Cross with style and success. Like all Pattersons, the narration mixes first and third person the first here is voiced, as before, by San Francisco homicide detective Lindsay Boxer, while the third-person sections cover the doings of the other three members of Boxer's informal club, a reporter, a pathologist and a prosecutor, as well as the villain's shenanigans. The basic story line is vintage Patterson, i.e., a serial killer (here, one known as Chimera) goes on a calculated rampage until stopped by the good guys or in this case, gals. As the victims a young girl shot dead, an elderly black woman hanged, two cops pile up, it becomes clear to Boxer and others that they're up against a racist who hates black cops; is the killer a cop himself? The story ripples with twists and some remarkably strong scenes, particularly Boxer's in-prison interview with a crazed con. But what makes this Patterson stand out above all is the textured storytelling arising from its focus on Boxer's personal issues. In the first novel, Patterson personalized Boxer by dealing with her rare blood disease; here, it's the emotionally powerful introduction of Boxer's long-lost father into her life that galvanizes the plot, particularly as Patterson ties the man into Chimera's rampage. Prime Patterson; first-rate entertainment. (On sale Mar. 4)Forecast: Patterson's name, major ad/promo and a 10-city author tour add up to #1; simultaneous Time Warner Audio and large-print edition.Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information, Inc.
From Library Journal
This is the second outing of the Women's Murder Club, which debuted in 1st To Die. This time 'round, the women confront the unthinkable: the killer they are tracking may be an ex-cop. Copyright 2001 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From AudioFile
2ND CHANCE is the second thriller in the Women's Murder Club series. Melissa Leo smoothly differentiates the four women crime-solvers, led by Lt. Boxer, who admirably connect the dots between seemingly unrelated crimes. Jeremy Piven is convincing as a serial killer who kills with no apparent motive. His stiletto-edged voice builds tension and suspense as he moves closer and closer to his target. His phone calls to Lt. Boxer are both harrowing and seductive. In the subplot, Leo effectively plays father and daughter as Boxer tries to work out a rapprochement with her long absent father. M.D.H. © AudioFile 2002, Portland, Maine-- Copyright © AudioFile, Portland, Maine
From Booklist
Patterson, who published no less than three novels last year, returns with his first entry for 2002. It is the second installment in his new series, the Women's Murder Club, which focuses on four females--a police detective, a medical examiner, an assistant DA, and a reporter--who team up to solve grizzly murder cases. Lindsay Boxer, newly made lieutenant, is called to the scene of a shooting that leaves a 12-year-old African American girl dead. When her friend, reporter Cindy Thomas, connects the killing to another murder that appears racially motivated, Lindsay is convinced that the department has a hate crime on its hands. But the subsequent murder of two police officers reveals that the truth about the killer is much more complex than they first realized. Following the only lead they have--a symbol depicting a creature with two lion heads--takes them back to a decades-old crime that has a surprising connection to Lindsay. While she deals with this case and tries to recover from the death of her lover, Lindsay is also contending with the reappearance of her father, who abandoned the family when Lindsay was a child. As with Patterson's best novels, the surprises keep coming until the final pages. This novel solidifies the new series and helps guarantee that readers will flock just as eagerly to the Women's Murder Club books as they do to the Alex Cross novels. Kristine Huntley
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
Book Description
Master of suspense James Patterson takes us into a terrifying underworld with this second thriller in his dazzling new Women's Murder Club series. The sensational killings that have rocked San Francisco appear to be unrelated except in their brutality. But detective Lindsay Boxer senses there's some thread connecting them all. She calls her friends in the Women's Murder Club together to see if they can discover what it is. Surely some clue has been overlooked by their bosses and male colleagues. Working with Chronicle reporter Cindy Thomas, Assistant District Attorney Jill Bernhardt, and medical examiner Claire Washburn, Lindsay discovers that there is indeed a link. The victims were of different ages, lived in different locations, and were killed with different weapons. But each had a close relative in a particular profession, a profession that sends a chill through Lindsay's heart. The partners in the Women's Murder Club realize that this killer is after something unspeakable, something deeper than revenge, and that the next target could be one of them. They deduce where the killer is likely to strike next and bait a trap that can't be resisted. But if their calculation is wrong, the consequences will be lethal. And there will be no second chance.
About the Author
James Patterson is the author of nine major national bestsellers in a row. A past winner of the prestigious Edgar Award, Patterson lives in Florida.
Excerpted from 2nd Chance by James Patterson, Andrew Gross. Copyright © 2002. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Part I THE WOMEN'S MURDER CLUB - AGAIN Chapter 1 ON A TUESDAY NIGHT, I found myself playing a game of crazy eights with three residents of the Hope Street Teen House. I was loving it. On the beat-up couch across from me sat Hector, a barrio kid two days out of Juvenile; Alysha, quiet and pretty, but with a family history you wouldn't want to know; and Michelle, who at fourteen had already spent a year selling herself on the streets of San Francisco. "Hearts," I declared, flipping down an eight and changing the suit just as Hector was about to lay out. "Damn, badge lady," he whined. "How come each time I'm 'bout to go down, you stick your knife in me?" "Teach you to ever trust a cop, fool." Michelle laughed, tossing a conspiratorial smile my way. For the past month, I'd been spending a night or two a week at the Hope Street House. For so long after the terrible bride and groom case that summer, I'd felt completely lost. I took a month off from Homicide, ran down by the marina, gazed out at the bay from the safety of my Potrero Hill flat. Nothing helped. Not counseling, not the total support of my girls-Claire, Cindy, Jill. Not even going back to the job. I had watched, unable to help, as the life leaked out of the person I loved. I still felt responsible for my partner's death in the line of duty. Nothing seemed to fill the void. So I came here...to Hope Street. And the good news was, it was working a little. I peered up from my cards at Angela, a new arrival who sat in a metal chair across the room cuddling her three-month- old daughter. The poor kid, maybe sixteen, hadn't said much all night. I would try to talk to Angela before I left. The door opened and Dee Collins, one of the house's head counselors, came in. She was followed by a stiff-looking black woman in a conservative gray suit. She had Department of Children and Families written all over her. "Angela, your social worker's here." Dee knelt down beside her. "I ain't blind," the teenager said. "We're going to have to take the baby now," the social worker interrupted, as if completing this assignment was all that kept her from catching the next Caltrain. "No!" Angela pulled the infant even closer. "You can keep me in this hole, you can send me back to Claymore, but you're not taking my baby." "Please, honey, only for a few days," Dee Collins tried to assure her. The teenage girl drew her arms protectively around her baby, who, sensing some harm, began to cry. "Don't you make a scene, Angela," the social worker warned. "You know how this is done." As she came toward her, I watched as Angela jumped out of the chair. She was clutching the baby in one arm and a glass of juice she'd been drinking in the opposite hand. In one swift motion, she cracked the glass against a table. It created a jagged shard. "Angela." I jumped up from the card table. "Put that down. No one's going to take your baby anywhere unless you let her go." "This bitch is trying to ruin my life." She glared. "First she lets me sit in Claymore three days past my date, then she won't let me go home to my mom. Now she's trying to take my baby girl." I nodded, peering into the teenager's eyes. "First, you gotta lay down the glass," I said. "You know that, Angela." The DCF worker took a step, but I held her back. I moved slowly toward Angela. I took hold of the glass, then I gently eased the child out of her arms. "She's all I have," the girl whispered, and then she started to sob. "I know." I nodded. "That's why you'll change some things in your life and get her back." Dee Collins had her arms around Angela, a cloth wrapped around the girl's bleeding hand. The DCF worker was trying unsuccessfully to hush the crying infant. I went up and said to her, "That baby gets placed somewhere nearby with daily visitation rights. And by the way, I didn't see anything going on here that was worth putting on file.... You?" The caseworker gave me a disgruntled look and turned away. Suddenly, my beeper sounded, three dissonant beeps punctuating the tense air. I pulled it out and read the number. Jacobi, my ex-partner in Homicide. What did he want? I excused myself and moved into the staff office. I was able to reach him in his car. "Something bad's happened, Lindsay," he said glumly. "I thought you'd want to know." He clued me in about a horrible drive-by shooting at the La Salle Heights Church. An eleven-year-old girl had been killed. "Jesus..." I sighed as my heart sank. "I thought you might want in on it," Jacobi said. I took in a breath. It had been over three months since I'd been on the scene at a homicide. Not since the day the bride and groom case ended. "So, I didn't hear," Jacobi pressed. "You want in, Lieutenant?" It was the first time he had called me by my new rank. I realized my honeymoon had come to an end. "Yeah," I muttered. "I want in." Copyright (c) 2002 by SueJack, Inc.
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