Island Life
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Synopsis:
How do you live without someone who's been part of your life for twenty years? Jack Holm begins to find out when his wife doesn't return to their suburban Seattle home after shopping one day. Her absence is not unusual given her flight attendant's job, and it's a respite from recent marital discord, so Jack feels relief not worry. But when a day goes by with no word, then another, Jack, his teenage daughter and ten-year-old son do worry. After three days, Jack reports her missing. Suddenly, Jack is swept up in a terrifying conflagration of events that threaten to tear his world apart. The police suspect him of foul play. Children and Family Services suspects him of abuse. And someone is spying on his kids. Now a single dad, Jack tries to help his kids deal with their mother's disappearance, but when he's arrested on suspicion of murder, he stands to lose it all. The state and his mother-in-law want to take away his kids. The police want him in jail. Abandoned by friends and family, Jack has nowhere to turn, and the mounting evidence begins to make him think he might actually be a killer.
But mysterious phone calls and a CD containing child pornography that turns up in his wife's belongings convince him otherwise. He quickly realizes the only way to stay ahead of the law and prevent his children from being put in foster care is to find out what happened to his wife. With new-found courage from a woman who believes in his innocence and the help of another outcast, Jack pursues a shadowy Japanese Yakuza crime boss from Seattle to Las Vegas and back, putting himself and all the people he loves in mortal danger.
Book Excerpt:
"How do you live without someone who's been part of your life for twenty years?" "Depends," Sarah said, enigmatic as usual. The irony of therapy-basically paying to talk to someone-is that you end up talking to yourself a lot, a characteristic most of us associate with crazies on the street. I wondered how dissimilar I was, really, from them. What separated me from them other than a shower, shave and clean clothes?* * * * * "Where's my hoodie?" Kelsey yelled from the second floor, but I could already hear her bounding heavily down the stairs. She came into the kitchen with a look of annoyance on her normally pretty face. I winced involuntarily when I saw the black circles around her eyes-not from lack of sleep, but from too much mascara-and my reaction only deepened her vexation. "What hoodie?" I asked, trying to smile pleasantly. "My Juicy." She could barely keep the exasperation out of her voice. "The pink one," she added, just in case I was a complete moron and severely fashion-impaired. "Probably in the laundry, sweetie." "The laundry? Da-a-d! I wanted those things washed last night!" I sighed. "Sorry. I forgot." She folded her slender arms, shifted her weight onto one foot, pouting. "Now what am I supposed to do?" "You know, you could have put a load in all by yourself if you needed clean clothes." The logic was lost on her. My smart, funny, attractive and utterly spoiled, almost fifteen-year-old daughter stabbed me with one more blood-letting look, tossed her head and flounced out of the room. I shook my head. I had never understood why a girl that pretty would want to cover it up with so much face paint. I didn't mind her wearing make-up. It was the quantity that bothered me. She'd never admit to being pretty, of course. Letty, my mother-in-law, never wasted an opportunity to remind her that "Pretty is as pretty does." Kelsey would likely have to wait until adulthood to objectively recognize that her grandmother had all the warmth of a January day in Juneau. Kelsey was smart, too-way smarter than either of her parents-which made me sometimes wonder whose child she really was. She wouldn't admit that, either, since intelligence was pretty low on the list of qualities required to run in Kelsey's circle of friends, or even belong to her peer group. Looks, fashion sense and the ability to lip synch all the misogynistic, foul and mean‑spirited lyrics from the latest gangsta rapper hit were far more important. It was just a phase, I kept reminding myself. And when it was over there would be another phase in its place to deal with. The ring of the phone saved me from her laser beam stare of death. She leapt for it and snatched up the receiver. "Hello? Hello?" She frowned, held the phone away for an instant, then pressed it to her ear again. "Hello?" She appeared to listen, and handed it to me. "For you, I think." I took the receiver and said hello. There was no response. I heard a soft click and the line went dead. "That was strange. Did they say who it was?" Kelsey shook her head. "Maybe it was a wrong number. Sounded like gibberish to me, like some foreign language." I pressed a button on the phone and checked Caller ID. The number was blocked. "Then why did you think it was for me, sweetie?" She shrugged.
Topics/Categories:
child pornography, Japanese Yakuza, Loss and Redemption, Love, Single Fatherhood
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Original Publish Date:
March 18, 2008
Formats and associated ISBNs:
978-1-59414-633-6
Reading Guides:
http://www.readinggroupguides.com http://www.islandlife-thenovel.com
Formats:
Hardcover
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