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Editorial Reviews. Review. Praise for Field of Prey “Sandford has always been at the top of any Gathering Prey (Lucas Davenport 25) by [Sandford, John].
Table of contents
A ten would buy dinner and a cup of coffee in the morning Henry gave up on the St. She smiled and nodded to Henry, but spoke to Skye. I got better things to do with it. Her voice was harshed by smoke and a good bit of that had been weed. My friend is Henry. And Skye was hungry. The two travelers shouldered their packs and Henry carried his guitar case and they started down Geary, walking toward Market Street, weaving through the tourists. Planning to be here for a couple of weeks, get some money, then go on up to Eugene, and maybe Seattle.
I heard they were traveling this summer. He looked back at the two women. He could get me a part.
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Inside, the two travelers loaded up on calories: Henry ordered a Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese, large fries, chocolate shake. Letty got a fish sandwich and Diet Coke. Which helps. You can ask around, find somebody going in your direction. Check up on him.
Or her. One time, I met this guy in San Antonio, he was a dope dealer but, you know, he was okay. He bought me a ticket on the train to Los Angeles. More than three hundred dollars.
What could I do? At Stanford. I can see that. He likes college girls. Or at least, college-girl types.
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Who is he? Travels around with his disciples, he calls them. Fucks them all, men and women alike. She reached out and pinched his cheek. Besides being hot for Henry? Pilot has these people he calls disciples, and they steal for him, the men do, and the women give him their paychecks and sometimes he sells them, the women. Like him and the disciples, and the dope gangs and bikers and Juggalos and the skinheads and like that.
He believes that the groups need to bind themselves together with blood. By killing people. That the whole gang has. Some street guy. I kept us going by trapping muskrats and coons, wandering around in the snow with a bunch of leg-hold traps and a. It was like winning the lottery. How about your real pop?
With anything. Skye felt that and bent the conversation in another direction. Not a watch. She peeled the band off her wrist, and Skye did it with hers, and they traded. He tells you he was on TV and you believe him. Skye nodded. Henry and I are gonna hit the motorcycle rally in Sturgis, the bikers are usually good for something. To Sturgis, to sell dope.
She took a fifty out of her purse, folded it to the same dimensions as the note and pushed it across the table. I mean really, thanks. And not feel bad about it. In fact, I might come there just to get the sandwiches. That killing stuff, though, I mean, what a bunch of bullshit. Later that month they caught a ride to Spokane and made a little money before the cops started hassling them.
They got lucky at a truck-stop and a trucker hauled them all the way to Billings, Montana.
Gathering Prey (Lucas Davenport, book 25) by John Sandford
Three hundred yards away, a dark building stood under a dozen orange security lights, which illuminated a bunch of farm equipment — tractors, trailers, combines, as well as a few bulldozers and graders. They went that way, walking along the frontage road, because it seemed to be more toward the center of town. As they were walking along, a man pulled into the parking lot of the farm-equipment dealership, got out, locked his car — the car was small and swoopy and expensive-looking.
The man went to a glass door on the side of the building, unlocked it, went inside. They continued to walk along the frontage road, moving slowly in the dark, and were fifty yards away when the man came back out of the building. He took off running, or jogging, away from them, along the frontage road, moving fast.
Skye watched him cross the parking lot, crouch by the door, and a minute later, heard the distant sound of breaking glass.
Gathering Prey
Henry disappeared inside, and a minute later, crawled back out, and ran toward her. We got to go. Be the first to discover new talent! Each week, our editors select the one author and one book they believe to be most worthy of your attention and highlight them in our Pro Connect email alert. Sign up here to receive your FREE alerts. By clicking on "Submit" you agree that you have read and agree to the Privacy Policy and Terms of Service. Email Newsletter. Log In. Toggle navigation MENU. Email Address. Kirkus Interview. Email address:. Please provide an email address.
On the shore of Lake Superior, a man named Vladimir Oleshev is found shot dead, three holes in his head and heart, and though nobody knows why he was killed, everybody - the local cops, the FBI, and the Russians themselves - has a theory. And when it turns out he had very high government connections, that's when it hits the fan.
A house demolition provides an unpleasant surprise for Minneapolis - the bodies of two girls, wrapped in plastic. It looks like they've been there a long time. Lucas Davenport knows exactly how long. In , Davenport was a young cop with a reputation for recklessness, and the girls' disappearance was a big deal.
His bosses ultimately declared the case closed, but he never agreed with that. Now that he has a chance to investigate it all over again, one thing is becoming increasingly clear: It wasn't just the bodies that were buried. It was the truth. The Republicans are coming to St. Paul for their convention. Throwing a big party is supposed to be fun, but crashing the party are a few hard cases the police would rather have stayed away.
Chief among them is a crew of professional stick-up men who've spotted several lucrative opportunities, ranging from political moneymen with briefcases full of cash to that armored-car warehouse with the weakness in its security system. The "Big Three" are a trio of inmates locked up in the Minnesota Security Hospital over the years, each a particularly vicious serial killer, each with his own distinct style and propensities. Everybody feels much safer knowing that they're behind bars.