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Night Sins/Guilty as Sin

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Night Sins/Guilty as Sin

by Tami Hoag
"ONE OF THE MOST INTENSE SUSPENSE WRITERS AROUND." --CHICAGO TRIBUNE#1 New York Times bestselling author Tami Hoag delivers a double shot of suspense in these two adrenaline-charged classic thrillers...
"ONE OF THE MOST INTENSE SUSPENSE WRITERS AROUND." --CHICAGO TRIBUNE#1 New York Times bestselling author Tami Hoag delivers a double shot of suspense in these two adrenaline-charged classic thrillers...
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    #1 New York Times bestselling author Tami Hoag delivers a double shot of suspense in these two adrenaline-charged classic thrillers offered together in one powerful volume.


    A peaceful Minnesota town is about to face its worst nightmare. A young boy disappears and the only clue is a note--taunting and casually cruel. Has a cold-blooded kidnapper struck? Or is this the reawakening of a long-quiet serial killer? For a tough-minded investigator, it's her first make-or-break case. For a local cop, it's the fear that big-city evil has come to stalk his small-town home. Together they'll hunt a madman who knows no bounds and for whom no sin is forbidden.

    "Nerve-shattering, explosive entertainment, and should not be missed by anyone who reads for the thrill of it." --Michael Palmer


    A psychopath has been playing a twisted game with a terrified Minnesota town. Now a respected member of the community stands accused of a chilling act of evil. But when a second boy vanishes, a frightened public demands to know if the police have caught the wrong man. Is the nightmare continuing...or just beginning? Prosecutor Ellen North believes she has the right man--but that he has an accomplice in the shadows. Ellen suddenly finds herself swept into a cruel contest of wits, a dark game of life and death... with an evil mind as guilty as sin.

    "A chilling study of evil that holds the reader until the shocking surprise ending." --Phillip Margolin

    From the Trade Paperback edition.

  • Chapter One January 12, 1994. Day 1
    5:26 p.m. 22¡

    Josh Kirkwood and his two best buddies burst out of the locker room, flying into the cold, dark late afternoon, hollering at the tops of their lungs. Their breath billowed out in rolling clouds of steam. They flung themselves off the steps like mountain goat kids leaping from ledge to ledge and landed hip-deep in the snow on the side of the hill. Hockey sticks skittered down, gear bags sliding after. Then came the Three Amigos, squealing and giggling, tucked into balls of wild-colored ski jackets and bright stocking caps.

    The Three Amigos. That was what Brian's dad called them. Brian's family had moved to Deer Lake, Minnesota, from Denver, Colorado, and his dad was still a big Broncos fan. He said the Broncos used to have some wide receivers called the Three Amigos and they were really good. Josh was a Vikings fan. As far as he was concerned, every other team was just a bunch of wusses, except maybe the Raiders, 'cause their uniforms were cool. He didn't like the Broncos, but he liked the nickname--the Three Amigos.

    "We are the Three Amigos!" Matt yelled as they landed in a heap at the bottom of the hill. He threw back his head and howled like a wolf. Brian and Josh joined in, and the racket was so terrible it made Josh's ears ring.

    Brian fell into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Matt flopped onto his back and started making a snow angel, swinging his arms and legs in wide arcs, looking as if he were trying to swim back up the hill. Josh pushed himself to his feet and shook like a dog as Coach Olsen came out of the ice arena.

    Coach was old--at least forty-five--kind of fat and mostly bald, but he was a good coach. He yelled a lot, but he laughed a lot, too. He told them at the beginning of hockey season that if he got too cranky they were to remind him they were only eight years old. The team had picked Josh for that job. He was one of the co-captains, a responsibility that pleased him a lot even though he would never say so. Nobody liked a bragger, Mom said. If you did your job well, there wasn't any reason to brag. A good job would speak for itself.

    Coach Olsen started down the steps, tugging down the earflaps of his hunting cap. The end of his nose was red from the cold. His breath came out of his mouth and went up around his head like smoke from a chimney. "You guys have rides home tonight?"

    They answered all at once, vying for the coach's attention by being loud and silly. He laughed and held his gloved hands up in surrender. "All right, all right! The rink's open if you get cold waiting. Olie's inside if you need to use the phone."

    Then Coach jumped into his girlfriend's car, the way he did every Wednesday, and off they went to have dinner at Grandma's Attic downtown. Wednesday was Grandma's famous meat loaf night. All-U-Can-Eat, it said on the menu. Josh imagined Coach Olsen could eat a lot.

    Cars rumbled around the circular drive in front of the Gordie Knutson Memorial Arena, a parade of minivans and station wagons, doors banging, exhaust pipes coughing. Kids from the various Squirt League teams chucked their sticks and equipment in trunks and hatches and climbed into the cars with their moms or dads, talking a mile a minute about the plays and drills they had worked on in practice.

    Matt's mom pulled up in their new Transport, a wedge-shaped thing that to Josh looked like something from Star Trek. Matt scrambled for his gear and dashed across the sidewalk, calling a good-bye over his shoulder. His mother, wearing a bright red stocking cap, buzzed down the passenger window.

    "Josh, Brian--you guys have rides?"

    "My mom's coming," Josh answered,...

About the Author-
  • Tami Hoag's novels have appeared regularly on national bestseller lists since the publication of her first book in 1988. She lives in Los Angeles.

    From the Trade Paperback...
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    Random House Publishing Group
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Tami Hoag
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