Book : Echo Burning (jack Reacher) - Child, Lee

-Titulo Original : Echo Burning (jack Reacher)

-Fabricante :

Berkley

-Descripcion Original:

Jack Reacher finds trouble in Texas in the fifth novel in Lee Child’s New York Times bestselling series. Thumbing across the scorched Texas desert, Jack Reacher has nowhere to go and all the time in the world to get there. Cruising the same stretch of two-lane blacktop is Carmen Greer. For Reacher, the lift comes with a hitch. Carmen’s got a wild story to tell-all about her husband, her family secrets, and a hometown that’s purely gothic. She’s also got a plan. Reacher’s part of it. And before the sun sets, this ride could cost them both their lives. Review “The best mystery I have read all year.”-The Boston Globe “A real dyed-in-the-wool hero…with a wicked sense of right and wrong. A story you can sink your teeth into.”-The Denver Post “As sweltering as the El Paso sun…bottom line: jalapeno-hot suspense.”-People“Constantly escalating tension and a host of sinister villains…a Texas version of Deliverance. Child is a vigorous storyteller, gradually building the suspense to almost unbearable levels.”-The St. Louis Post-Dispatch “Smashingly suspenseful…The kind of daylight-noir setting that Jim Thompson loved. Child builds tension to unbearable extremes.”-Kirkus Reviews (starred review) “An explosive nail-biting climax.”-Library Journal About the Author LEE CHILD is a #1 bestselling author worldwide. His debut novel, Killing Floor, won two awards for best first mystery and was nominated for two more. Foreign rights in the Jack Reacher series have been sold in ninety-five countries. Child, a native of England, is a former television director. He lives in New York City, where he is at work on his next Jack Reacher thriller. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. There were three watchers, two men and a boy. They were using telescopes, not field glasses. It was a question of distance. They were almost a mile from their target area, because of the terrain. There was no closer cover. It was low, undulating country, burned khaki by the sun, grass and rock and sandy soil alike. The nearest safe concealment was the broad dip they were in, a bone-dry gulch scraped out a million years ago by a different climate, when there had been rain and ferns and rushing rivers.The men lay prone in the dust with the early heat on their backs, their telescopes at their eyes. The boy scuttled around on his knees, fetching water from the cooler, watching for waking rattlesnakes, logging comments in a notebook. They had arrived before first light in a dusty pick-up truck, the long way around, across the empty land from the west. They had thrown a dirty tarpaulin over the truck and held it down with rocks. They had eased forward to the rim of the dip and settled in, raising their telescopes as the low morning sun dawned to the east behind the red house almost a mile away. This was Friday, their fifth consecutive morning, and they were low on conversation.Time? one of the men asked. His voice was nasal, the effect of keeping one eye open and the other eye shut.The boy checked his watch.Six-fifty, he answered.Any moment now, the man with the telescope said.The boy opened his book and prepared to make the same notes he had made four times before.Kitchen light on, the man said.The boy wrote it down. 6:50, kitchen light on. The kitchen faced them, looking west away from the morning sun, so it stayed dark even after dawn.On her own? the boy asked.Same as always, the second man said, squinting.Maid prepares breakfast, the boy wrote. Target still in bed. The sun rose, inch by inch. It jacked itself higher into the sky and pulled the shadows shorter and shorter. The red house had a tall chimney coming out of the kitchen wing like the finger on a sundial. The shadow it made swung and shortened and the heat on the watchers shoulders built higher. Seven oclock in the morning, and it was already hot. By eight, it would be burning. By nine, it would be fearsome. And they were there al