Whiplash

The Cove and The Maze

Point Blank (2005)

Blowout (2004)

Blindside (2003)

Eleventh Hour (2002)

Hemlock Bay (2001)

Riptide (2000)

The Edge (1999)

The Target (1998)

The Maze (1997)

The Cove (1996)

Whiplash

Catherine

Coulter

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

New York

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

Publishers Since 1838

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York,

New York 10014, USA • Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) •

Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England • Penguin Ireland,

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(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd) • Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd,

24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Joha

Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

Copyright © 2010 by Catherine Coulter

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, sca

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Coulter, Catherine.

Whiplash / Catherine Coulter.

p. cm.

ISBN 9781101457436

1. United States. Federal Bureau of Investigation-Fiction.

2. Savich, Dillon (Fictitious character)-Fiction.

3. Sherlock, Lacey (Fictitious character)-Fiction.

4. Murder-Investigation-Fiction. I. Title.

PS3553.0843W47 2010 2010009114

813'.54-dc22

Printed in the United States of America

1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

Book design by Amanda dewey

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

While the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank:

Lisa Amoroso for yet another incredible jacket.

Karen Evans for her excellent discrepancy-spotting in the manuscript.

Dorian Hastings for all her excellent catches in copyediting.

Chris Pepe for her special enthusiasm about this book.

Erin Vollmer for always keeping all the balls in the air.

I'm very lucky to have you all in my corner. Thank you very much.

To a great group of women:

Ingrid Becker

Lesley DeLone

Karen Evans

Catherine Lyons-Labate

I'm glad you're in my life.

1

STONE BRIDGE, CONNECTICUT

Late Sunday night

Erin used her third-generation lock picks. She knew each one intimately, having successfully, and in excellent time, learned to unlock by the age of six and a half whatever her father hid under her pillow. Her hands didn't shake, though her heart felt like it would pound out of her chest. Crouching in a dark maintenance closet for three hours with two bottles of water and a PayDay candy bar hadn't been fun, but surely it wasn't all that illegal. What she was doing now, though, it was the real deal. She wasn't just twisting the law, she was stomping on it. She was breaking and entering. She could go to jail for the rest of her youth, which would be a real shame since she hadn't yet produced the fourth generation of lock pickers.

It wasn't the first time she'd gone through the back door to make things right for a client, but she prayed with all her heart it would be the last. Maybe if she'd been able to speak to the CEO, Caskie Royal, if only she could have tried to reason with him-no, that was a load of bull.

The lock snicked open. She slid her grandfather's picks back into the pocket of her black jacket, checked the corridor both ways, and opened the door just enough so she could slip inside the CEO's office. She turned on her penlight to get the lay of the land. It was a large square room, business-opulent, she'd call it, with a rich dark burgundy leather sofa, a love seat, and a huge matching chair with ottoman. A fine antique mahogany desk dominated the office. She flicked off the penlight, locked the door, and walked to the wall-wide window behind the desk, to make sure no one was out there. Mr. Royal had a lovely view of a large parklike lawn, now moonlit, lined with plants still bursting with blooms at the very end of summer. The maple and oak woods behind the lawn stretched a good quarter of a mile into Van Wie Park. Since she didn't see a single soul out there, she didn't close the draperies. She stepped to the computer sitting on the big desk and turned it on.