Showing results by author "J. D. Robb" in All Categories

In early spring of 2059, Lieutenant Eve Dallas is called off planet to face a grueling ordeal - giving a seminar at the largest police conference of the year, to be held in a swanky resort. A resort which just happens to be owned by her husband, Roarke, of course.

Der Tatort: die Suite 4602 im luxuriösen Palace Hotel in New York City. Das Mordopfer: ein Zimmermädchen. Die Tatwaffe: ein dünner Silberdraht. Der Tatverdächtige: Sylvester Yost, ein Profikiller. Sein Markenzeichen: Er hört Musik, wenn er mordet. Doch Lieutenant Eve Dallas wirft der Fall zu viele Fragen auf: Wer heuert einen Profikiller an, um ein Zimmermädchen zu ermorden? Ist ihr Mann Roarke, der Besitzer des Hotels, das eigentliche Ziel?

For the airline executives finalizing a merger that would make news in the business world, the nine a.m. meeting would be a major milestone. But after marketing VP Paul Rogan walked into the plush conference room, strapped with explosives, the headlines told of death and destruction instead. The NYPSD’s Eve Dallas confirms that Rogan was cruelly coerced by two masked men holding his family hostage.

Things aren’t what they seem when Lieutenant Eve Dallas investigates what appears to be a routine murder/suicide. When friends of Darlene and Marcus Fitzwilliams insist Darlene would never harm her brother, Eve digs deeper. Eve learns that Darlene sought help from sensitives, psychics, and doctors of paranormal studies in an attempt to contact her dead parents. After clues mimicking Alice in Wonderland repeatedly turn up, the case gets curiouser and curiouser....

On a chilly February night, during a screening of Psycho in midtown, someone sunk an ice pick into the back of Chanel Rylan's neck, then disappeared quietly into the crowds of drunks and tourists in Times Square. To Chanel's best friend, who had just slipped out of the theater for a moment to take a call, it felt as unreal as the ancient black-and-white movie up on the screen. But Chanel's blood ran red, and her death was anything but fictional.

They died with smiles on their faces. Three apparent suicides: a brilliant engineer, an infamous lawyer, and a controversial politician. Three strangers with nothing in common - and no obvious reasons for killing themselves. Police lieutenant Eve Dallas found the deaths suspicious.

On one of the city's hottest nights, New York Police Lieutenant Eve Dallas is sent to Central Park - and into a hellish new investigation. The victim is found on the rocks, just above the still, dark water of The Lake in the park. Around her neck is a single red ribbon. Her hands are posed, as if in prayer. But it is the eyes - removed with such precision, as if done by the careful hand of a surgeon - that have Dallas most alarmed.

After a party in New York, Lieutenant Eve Dallas rides home with her billionaire husband, Roarke, happy to be done with cocktails and small talk. After another party, not far away, a woman retires to her bedroom with her husband - and walks into a brutal nightmare. Their paths are about to collide....

In this novel from number-one New York Times-best-selling author J. D. Robb, the newly promoted captain of the NYPSD and his wife return a day early from their vacation, looking forward to spending time with their bright and vivacious 16-year-old daughter, who stayed behind. Not even their worst nightmares could have prepared them for the crime scene that awaits them inside.

He is an expert with the latest technology...a madman with the mind of a genius and the heart of a killer. He quietly stalks his prey. Then he haunts the police with cryptic riddles about the crimes he is about to commit - always solved moments too late to save the victims' lives.

After a tip from a reporter, Eve Dallas finds the body of a young woman in a Delancey Street dumpster. Just hours before, the news station had mysteriously received a portfolio of professional portraits of the woman. The photos seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary for any pretty young woman starting a modeling career. Except that she wasn't a model. And that these photos were taken after she had been murdered. Now Dallas is on the trail of a killer who's a perfectionist and an artist. He carefully observes and records his victim's every move.

The death of history teacher Craig Foster devastated his young wife, who'd sent him off to work that morning with a lovingly packed lunch. It shocked his colleagues at the Upper West Side private school. And as for the 10-year-old girls who found him in his classroom in a pool of bodily fluids, they may have been traumatized for life. Lieutenant Eve Dallas, of course, is more hardened to murder cases. And this is clearly a murder case.

For Lieutenant Eve Dallas of the NYPSD, the job is a useful reminder of what she has to be grateful for this season. Hosting Roarke’s big Irish family for the holiday may be challenging, but it’s a joyful improvement on her own dark childhood. Other couples aren’t as lucky as Eve and Roarke. The Reinholds, for example, are lying on the floor of their Downing Street apartment, stabbed and bludgeoned almost beyond recognition. Those who knew them are stunned - and even more heartbroken by the overwhelming evidence that they were murdered by their own son.

Dennis Mira just had two unpleasant surprises. First he learned that his cousin Edward was secretly meeting with a real estate agent about their late grandfather's magnificent West Village brownstone, despite the promise they both made to keep it in the family. Then, when he went to the house to confront Edward about it, he got a blunt object to the back of the head.

The shots came quickly, silently, and with deadly accuracy. Within seconds, three people were dead at Central Park's ice skating rink. The victims: a talented young skater, a doctor, and a teacher. As random as random can be. Eve Dallas has seen a lot of killers during her time with the NYPSD, but never one like this. After reviewing security videos, it becomes clear that the victims were killed by a sniper firing a tactical laser rifle, who could have been miles away when the trigger was pulled.

When recovering drug addict Lyle Pickering is found dead of an overdose, it looks like a tragic accident. But his sister Rochelle knows better, and so does Lieutenant Eve Dallas. Lyle was murdered, and the evidence points directly to his old street gang. As Eve and husband Roarke track the killer through the city's dive bars, drug dens and strip joints, another body is discovered.

In a New York City fifty years in the future, Detective Eve Dallas tracks down those who break the law - including the ones sworn to uphold it. Eve Dallas and her partner, Peabody, are following up on a brutal, senseless crime - an elderly grocery owner killed by three stoned punks for nothing more than kicks and snacks. And for the first time, Peabody is primary detective on the case, which means she has to get used to a new level of authority and responsibility. Good thing she learned the ropes from a master like Eve. But after rounding up the perps, Peabody stumbles upon a much trickier situation.

At the luxurious Roarke Palace Hotel, a maid walks into suite 4602 for the nightly turndown - and steps into her worst nightmare. A killer leaves her dead, strangled by a thin silver wire. He's Sly Yost, a virtuoso of music and murder. A hit man for the elite.

It's a beautiful Spring day in NYC when Lt. Eve Dallas gets an early morning murder call. A talented young sculptor hasn't had such a perfect day in May. Killed by her own hammer, at first it looks like an argument with a jealous partner but it soon becomes clear that there is much more to this case than a lovers' quarrel turned fatal. Eve finds herself drawn into the dark and dangerous world of a secret order. A world in which white supremacy, misogyny and religious fanaticism are everyday activities.

With the precision of a surgeon, a serial killer preys on the most vulnerable souls of the world's city streets. The first victim: a sidewalk sleeper, found dead in New York City. No bruises, no signs of struggle. Just a laser-perfect, fist-sized hole where his heart had once been.