Friday, August 6, 2010
LOOK AGAIN by Lisa Scottoline
When reporter Ellen Gleeson gets a “Have You Seen This Child?” flyer in the mail, she almost throws it away. But something about it makes her look again, and her heart stops—the child in the photo is identical to her adopted son, Will. Her every instinct tells her to deny the similarity between the boys, because she knows her adoption was lawful. But she’s a journalist and won’t be able to stop thinking about the photo until she figures out the truth. And she can’t shake the question: if Will rightfully belongs to someone else, should she keep him or give him up? She investigates, uncovering clues no one was meant to discover, and when she digs too deep, she risks losing her own life—and that of the son she loves. Lisa Scottoline breaks new ground in Look Again, a thriller that’s both heart-stopping and heart-breaking, and sure to have new fans and book clubs buzzing.
How would you feel if the child you adopted was on a missing persons postcard? What would you do to find the truth? That is what happened to Ellen. The story had me intrigued from beginning to ending with kidnapping, murder and a smattering of romance thrown in. Plot twists and turns kept me guessing. I guessed a big twist but not the last one.
The only complaint I had was the ending was a little too convenient but by then I really wanted Ellen to win.
L: None (that I remember)
V: One scene with bad guy and guns
Page 69 test:
"...crayoned drawings, a king-size box of skittles, sympathy cards, and a mound of spray-painted daisies and sweetheart roses, still in plastic wrap. a sign handwritten in Magic Marker read WE LOVE YOU, TEEF, and a few candles sat around it, unlit in the cold and wind. Lateef Williams was denied the smallest measure of warmth and light, even in death.
Ellen felt a wrench in her chest. She didn't know how many children had been killed in the city last year, but she could never get used to the idea. She never wanted to get to the point at which a child's murder was old news. She fed the car some gas and pulled into a parking space , then gathered her things to meet Lateef's mother.
Laticia Williams was twenty-six, with a slim, pretty face, narrow brown eyes, high cheekbones, and a prominent mouth, devoid of lipstick. Long earrings with wooden beads dangled from her earlobes, showing just under chin-length hair colored reddish. With her jeans, she wore an oversized black t-shirt that bore her son's photo and the caption, R.I.P. LATEEF.
"I appreciate you coming," Latiica said, setting a mug of coffee in front of Ellen as they sat at her round table. The kitchen was small and neat, the cabinets refaced with dark wood and the Formica counters covered with Pyrex oblongs of cakes, cookie tins, and two pies covered with tinfoil, which Laticia had said were "Too ugly" to serve.
"Not at all, I appreciate your talking to me at a time like this," Ellen said., having already expressed her condolences. "The only think I hate about my job is barging into people's houses at the worst time of their lives. Again, I'm so sorry for your loss."
"Thank you," Laticia sat down with a weary smile, showing the old rim of her front tooth. "I want it to be int he paper, so everybody know what's happenin'. So they know kids are gettin' killed every day. So it's not just a number, like Powerball."
"That's the point. That's what I'm here to do. Make them see it and understand what it's like to lose Lateef this way."