Julia Spencer-Fleming novels of faith and murder for readers of literary suspense

To Darkness and to Death

ISBN: 0-312-33485-0
St. Martin's Minotaur

The Agatha, Anthony, Dilys, Barry and Macavity Award-winning author delivers another suspenseful tale of faith and murder featuring the Rev. Clare Fergusson and Police Chief Russ van Alstyne

Julia Spencer-Fleming raises the stakes in the fourth entry in her best-selling series set in the quiet town of Millers Kill, New York. Taking a cue from the smash hit television series, 24 Hours, the thrilling plot of her latest plays out over a single day. An early morning missing persons report sends Chief van Alstyne scrambling to one of the last great Adirondack summer estates. One of the heirs to a fortune is missing amidst evidence of foul play. As Clare and Russ race against time to solve the mystery, an unseen hand seeks to foil the search, destroy key evidence, and destroy the searchers as well. As the tension ratchets up, will Russ and Clare succeed in keeping their growing bond a secret from others, or even from themselves?

To Darkness and to Death
rates Kirkus Starred Review

It's a complex, atmospheric mystery from Spencer-Fleming, a writer who's latest effort is sure to please the dedicated and growing following of this masterful series.

Episcopalian priest Clare Fergusson and married police chief Russ Van Alstyne are constantly battling the growing attraction between them, but each time they promise themselves to stay apart, a crime in their small upstate New York town pulls them together. It’s a woman’s disappearance that roils the peace of Millers Kill this time. Family heirs are on the verge of selling one of the last Adirondack “camps”--grand mansions built in the woods or on the lakeshore, where their wealthy owners go to “rough it” in the summer. This particular camp is about to be sold, but contention over the woman’s disappearance holds up the final signing.

A Snippet

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5:15am

Ring. Ring. The phone. She snarled, rolled onto her stomach and pulled her pillow over her head, but the damn thing wouldn’t give up. Once. Twice. Three times. With an inarticulate curse, she reached out from under the covers and grabbed the receiver. “H’lo,” she said.

“Reverend Fergusson? Did I wake you?” She was spared coming up with an answer worthy of the question, because her caller went on. “It’s John Huggins, Millers Kill Search and Rescue. I’m calling you on official business.”

I’m so glad it’s not personal, she thought, but the only thing her mouth could manage was, “Me?”

“You signed up, didn’t you?” She could hear the rustle of paper over the line. “Air Force training in survival, search and rescue? Nine years Army helicopter pilot? Physically fit, has own gear?”

She shoved the pillow beneath her and propped herself up on her elbows. The only word her sleep-sodden brain latched on to was pilot. “You want me to fly?”