What do you think?
Rate this book


371 pages, Hardcover
First published February 7, 2017







She caught a scent, yes, yes, the rich and funereal scent of lilies. Blood. Lilies and blood, surely that meant death.

Put the past behind you - that's what people always said. But those people didn't get that the past was always behind you. Like a hound on the scent.

Snow makes some people crazier than they already are ...

"That's another echo for me. The first time I saw you - that was in a crowd too, the funeral of one of my dead. - it hit, and hard. I didn't like it one bit. It pissed me off, but it hit."
"On both sides. One look."
Without thinking, he slid a hand into his pocket, rubbed his fingers over the button he'd carried ever sine, one that had fallen off her truly ugly suit the day they'd met.




”Is Mira’s right, we’re looking for a schmuck with an Edison thing” (Eve)
“Edison? Like Thomas?” (Peabody)
“Who’s Edison Thomas?” (Eve)
“ I mean Thomas Edison. The inventor?” Peabody explained. “The lightbulb?”
“No, for Christ’s sake, this isn’t about lightbulbs. Like the sicko guy who married his own mother, then whined about it.”
After a moment’s confusion, Pebody’s own lightbulb went off. “That’s Oedipus. I’m pretty sure that’s Oedipus.”
“Edison, Oedipus, platypus. Whatever.”

”I want him in cage,” Pebody began as they walked to the car. “For the rest of his life. Then I want him reincarnated as a slug and put in a tiny box for the rest of that life. Then he can come back as a cockroach.”


"This guy went to clown school. Why is there a school for clowns? Why are there clowns?"
"Someone has to make 'em laugh."
She slid her gaze to his face. "Seriously?"
He shrugged. "While some fear the clown, many more are vastly entertained."
"This guy supplements his income in food services by dressing up in weird getups for parties and benefits. Or his income in food services supplements his clown gigs. Hard to tell. But there you have makeup and costumes and a propensity to scare the shit out of people."
"Some people."
Sincerely shocked, she gaped at him. "You like clowns?"
"'Like' is a strong word in this context." He helped himself to her coffee. "I assume the clown goes on the suspect list."
"You bet your ass."