John Sandford's introduction of Minnesota Bureau of CriminalApprehension investigator Virgil Flowers was an immediate critical andpopular success: "laser-sharp characters and a plot that's fast andsurprising" (Cleveland Plain Dealer); "an idiosyncratic, thoroughly ingratiating hero" (Booklist).Flowers is only in his late thirties, but he's been around the block afew times, and he doesn't think much can surprise him anymore. He'swrong.

It's a hot, humid summer night in Minnesota, and Flowers is in bed withone of his ex-wives (the second one, if you're keeping count), when thephone rings. It's Lucas Davenport. There's a body in Stillwater—twoshots to the head, found near a veteran's memorial. And the victim hasa lemon in his mouth.

Exactly like the body they found last week.

The more Flowers works the murders, the more convinced he is thatsomeone's keeping a list, and that the list could have a lot more nameson it. If he could only find out what connects them all . . . and thenhe does, and he's almost sorry he did.

Because if it's true,then this whole thing leads down a lot more trails than he thought—andevery one of them is booby-trapped.

Filled with the audaciousplotting, rich characters, and brilliant suspense that have always madehis books "compulsively readable" (Los Angeles Times), this is vintage Sandford.