With cumulative sales of 40 million copies, the queen of medical thrillers
Tess Gerritsen's new novel!
Amazon's "Best Mystery & Thriller of the Year"
Novel of the Year by the International Thriller Writers Association

Former CIA agent Maggie Byrd, after a tragically ended mission, lives a quiet life running a chicken farm in a quiet rural town in Maine.
But one day, a corpse is found in front of her house, and she realizes that it is a message from her enemies who have not forgotten her.

She forms the 'Martini Club' with her former retired colleagues and uses their still-rusty skills to solve the case.
The ghosts of her past that haunted her return, but with the help of her friends, can Maggie save the life she's built so far?

Tess Gerritsen is a gifted storyteller, and she has created a clever and immersive novel set in small town Maine.
The author has an unusual background: she earned a medical degree and worked as a doctor, but then began writing novels during her maternity leave, and quickly became a bestselling author.
As a doctor by training, she mainly writes medical thrillers, and her famous TV series "Rizzoli & Isles" made her known as the queen of medical suspense.

Gerritsen proves his talent once again in "Spy Cost," the story of a retired spy who, living a quiet life as an ordinary retiree, is forced to rediscover his buried past and summon old talents he thought would never be used again.

Something died here.
I stand in the yard, looking down at the evidence of carnage in the snow.
The killer dragged his victim across the freshly fallen snow.
Although the snow continued to fall quietly, it had not yet erased the culprit's footprints or the tracks in the snow made as the body was dragged through the forest.
I see bloodstains, scattered feathers, and clumps of black fluff swaying in the wind.

--- p.12

Now she's left to juggle the police department's shift schedule, sick days, and ever-tight budget.
'Do we really need six full-time police officers in a village of about three thousand people?' 'Well, Mr. Chairman.
If we all stopped causing car accidents, getting into fights, and stealing cars, we could do it with fewer people.
Oh, and would it be okay to close Route 1 in July? I think that would effectively prevent the influx of tourists that arrive every summer.
Of course, they would gladly take their money to another village.'
--- p.45

In the evenings, I would often come across my father there, drunk and causing a commotion.
I only ended up telling the truth once in ten times I met a client, but that always confused me.
If my father had always lied, at least I would have had some clear guidance in life.
The possibility of a better outcome instills hope, stirs the mind, and ultimately leads to disappointment.
I was like a diamond miner, constantly knocking on rocks to find gems in a pile of rubble.
We waste our lives hoping to find a jewel somewhere, only to find it.

--- pp.71~72

"Harbortown? How did you find out..."
“Isn’t that where Bianca stayed? Of course.
There are only three accommodations in this area open at this time of year.
Lloyd knew a chef at Harbourtown, so he asked her and she said Bianca had stayed there.”
“The hotel now serves a pretty good breakfast,” Lloyd said.
“As a side note, it was after I gave you the recipe for baked eggs.”
Joe took a deep breath to calm his temper.
“What do you do at that hotel?”
“I’m trying to find out when and where Bianca was kidnapped.
I don't think Bianca's rental car has been found yet.
so…"
“How do you know that?”
“It seemed like state police were combing the hotel parking lot this morning, but they didn’t actually tow any vehicles away.
“Haven’t you found it yet?”
--- p.100

The next morning, on the plane to London, I remembered Azuma and her young daughter.
Their charred bodies lying in the Istanbul morgue are etched in my memory like the apparitions of so many other victims and children who haunt me from time to time.
To fight the enemy, you must know their methods and have the same awareness as them in order to be able to stand up to them.
But those perceptions wore me down and polluted my view of the world.
I looked around the Turkish Airlines cabin.
Instead of seeing passengers drinking wine, I pictured the mangled bodies of Lockerbie.
As I take the taxi to Danny's apartment and look out over the streets of London, I am reminded of the countless bomb craters in Grozny.
--- p.166

"You're giving up everything for me? Your salary, your apartment?"
“Maggie, I was really happy even though I lived in a refugee treatment tent.
This apartment is not mine.
It's Galen's.
I won't miss this apartment.
And I won't have to miss those arrogant fools who think I'll run over them if they even sniffle.
“I would gladly quit that job if it meant we could be together.”
I could hear the pain in his voice.
He seemed as tired from work as I was.
What a wonderful couple, eager to break out of the box they've put themselves in.

--- p.172

Callie's hair smelled sweet of hay and wood fire, and as I held her close to me, I suddenly felt tears welling up in my eyes.
These were emotions I didn't want to feel, and they were emotions I had been avoiding for a long time.
But now, this innocent girl is clinging to me like a baby.
Now it's time to leave.
Right now.
I tried to pull Cali away, but she was holding on so tightly that it felt like my skin was being peeled off.
“You have homework to do, Callie.” That was all I could say.
I felt like I would burst into tears if I said another goodbye, so I quickly ran out the door.
--- pp.228~229

A hazy image of Danny standing there ordering noodles wearing a badly translated T-shirt lingered in his mind.
His smile was vivid in my eyes.
No one smiled at me like Danny did, and that smile meant the beginning of my downfall.
As I looked at the small plastic table where we had sat together, devouring noodles, a sudden wave of sadness washed over me, washing over me like a wave so powerful I couldn't stand upright.
The market street had turned into a gray, hazy light, and the voices of people could only be heard as a faint murmur in the distance.
I no longer paid attention to the people around me, nor did I care who followed me.
I didn't care if someone dragged me away and shot me in the head.
If I were to die now, Danny's face would be my last memory.

--- p.360