by Lis Wiehl
8. Even though Mia is overwhelmed by responsibilities, she manages to make room for Kali and Eldon in her home. What makes her so sympathetic toward Kali and her circumstances?
9. Scott’s unethical accounting practices led him down a slippery—and eventually deadly—slope. Have you ever found yourself trying to justify smaller offenses, only to find yourself knee-deep in bigger ones?
10. Hindsight is 20/20 for Mia once she learns the whole truth about Scott, his work, and their marriage. Like Mia, have you ever been in long-term denial about a situation in your life? How differently would things have turned out if Mia had confronted Scott about her concerns?
From Lethal Beauty
1. Before you read Lethal Beauty, were you aware that there were modern day slaves in America and that they work in all different types of industries?
2. One of the key witnesses, Sindy, goes missing after being in foster care. Have you ever considered being a foster parent? Do you know anyone who has been one or someone who spent time in foster care as a child?
3. Today, even teenagers can turn to legal drugs and supplements to help them concentrate, loose weight, gain weight, be less anxious, etc. Do you think too many normal issues are being turned into medical problems, or that it’s good that today’s teens have more options for help than kids did twenty or more years ago?
4. When Gabe first goes online to read message boards about steroids, he gets a one-sided picture of the truth. Have the Internet and other targeted media become an echo chamber, presenting information that isn’t balanced? Should we as individuals try to do something about it? How can we get the full picture when we seek out information about controversial subjects?
5. Mia decided to go cold-turkey on junk food, purging her house of any foods she thought her family shouldn’t be eating. How do you balance the need to eat healthy with the desire for something fun and/or fast? Do you have tricks for keeping a kitchen that helps you support a balanced diet?
6. At first when Eli sees the African American woman come out to talk to them about Jiao’s surgery, he think she’s a nurse. “This was the surgeon, Eli realized as Charlie nodded, not the scrub nurse. How often did he only see what he expected to see?” Have you found yourself making assumptions about people based on how they dress, the color of their skin, or other externals? How can we train ourselves to not jump to conclusions?
7. Even though David Leacham is guilty, Warren is able to bring the trial to a halt by refusing to vote to convict him. Do you think the jury system is the best way to go about deciding cases? If not, what would you propose in its place?
8. Who do you think Mia should end up with? Charlie? Eli? Neither?
9. Have you ever wondered about the working conditions of a foreign-born worker whom you encountered? What would you do if you suspected that the man at the convenience store or the woman at the dry cleaners had been trafficked? If you have information about a potential trafficking situation, please contact the National Human Trafficking Resource Center at 1-888-373-7888 or text BeFree (233733). The hotline is open all hours, all days. They take reports from anywhere in the country related to potential trafficking victims, suspicious behaviors, and/or locations where trafficking is suspected to occur. All reports are confidential. Interpreters are available.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
From A Matter of Trust
Dear “Mia,” even though you are a figment of my imagination, thank you for letting your story be told. In some ways, you are more truth than fiction, and so near and dear to my heart. Telling your story brings me closer to you and will, I hope, inform women who see themselves in your proverbial shoes. Tread wisely, my friend.
Speaking of friends: Thank you, O’Reilly, from Wiehl. And Roger Ailes, an intrepid leader. And Dianne Brandi, daughter of Dolores.
Research is the key to any good story, so thank you, Joe Collins (paramedic and firefighter), Robin Burcell (author and former cop and forensic artist), and all our friends in law enforcement who consulted and advised without attribution.
Thank you to the amazing team at Thomas Nelson! Their spirit for the story never ceases to amaze. It is with much gratitude that we thank Daisy Hutton, Vice President and Publisher (spirit, charm, and smarts all wrapped up in one amazing person); Ami McConnell, Senior Acquisitions Editor (she was the first to really “see” Mia . . . I will always love her for that); Amanda Bostic, Acquisitions Editor (I love how she thinks); LB Norton, line editor (with her keen eye, quick pen, and great sense of humor); Becky Monds, Associate Editor (I don’t ever think she doesn’t have a smile on her face, love that); Jodi Hughes, Editorial Assistant (and destined for great things, I feel it in my bones); Kristen Vasgaard, Manager of Packaging (she makes book covers sing); Ruthie Dean, Marketing and Publicity Specialist (she gets it all done . . . not quite sure how, but she does); Laura Dickerson, Marketing and Publicity Specialist (so glad to be part of her team); Kerri Potts, Marketing and Publicity Coordinator (the inspiration behind my Facebook); and, finally, with special thanks to Katie Bond, Director of Marketing and Publicity (I’m so proud of you, friend. We have shared so many stories, and have many more ahead). We love this team!
Special thanks to our book agents, Todd Shuster and Lane Zachary of the Zachary, Shuster, and Harmsworth Literary Agency, and Wendy Schmalz of the Wendy Schmalz Agency—you made the Mia novels happen.
To my mom and dad. I still aim to follow the moral compass you set years ago.
All of the mistakes are ours. All the credit is theirs. Thank you!
From A Deadly Business
Thank you to the readers of the Mia Quinn mysteries! I so appreciate your jumping on board and following her adventures. It is both humbling and gratifying to be able to share her story.
This is a novel, and yet accuracy and research are key. So thank you to Jaydra Perfetti of the IRS, for clarifying how IRS audits work; Robert Payton Morris, for explaining so much about yachts, drowning, and harbor patrol; Robin Burcell, author and former police officer, for answering procedural questions; CJ Lyons, author and physician, for answering questions about ventilators; and to the many federal and state law enforcement officers and prosecutors who consulted without attribution.
Thank you O’Reilly, from Wiehl. And special thanks to John Blasi, the smarts and vision behind billoreilly.com. And thank you Deirdre and Don Imus. Your friendship (off camera) means the world to me. And Roger Ailes and Dianne Brandi.
Thank you to the ceaselessly stunning publishing team! Daisy Hutton, vice president and publisher, is wise well beyond her years; Ami McConnell, senior acquisitions editor, so honored to call her my friend; Amanda Bostic, editorial director, brilliant; LB Norton, line editor, with the keenest of pens and the sharpest of wits; Becky Monds, editor, keeps the whole team on track with a smile on her face; Jodi Hughes, the ever on-target associate editor; Kristen Vasgaard, a brilliant manager of packaging; Laura Dickerson, marketing manager, is inspired; Kerri Potts, marketing and publicity coordinator, and the inspiration behind my Facebook; and, of course, special thanks to my dear friend Katie Bond, director of marketing and publicity. We’re so proud to be part of this team!
Special thanks to our book agents, Todd Shuster and Lane Zachary of Zachary, Shuster, Harmsworth Literary and Entertainment Agency and Wendy Schmalz of the Wendy Schmalz Agency, who have worked tirelessly. We couldn’t have done this without your amazing vision.
And always, Mom and Dad, thank you does not even begin to express how I feel.
All the mistakes are ours. All the credit is theirs. Thank you!
From Lethal Beauty
My warmest gratitude and thanks go to the readers of the Mia Quinn mysteries. Your enthusiasm for Mia is inspiring and humbling.
Thank you O’Reilly, from Wiehl. And thank you to my “sister from another mother”, Deirdre Imus. Thank you to Roger Ailes, for hiring a certain legal analyst, and to Dianne Brandi. And thank you to Robin Burcell, former police officer, for answering procedural questions.
Thank you to this amazingly wonderful publishing team! Daisy Hutton, vice president and publisher, wise beyond her years; Ami McConnell, senior acquisitions editor and friend; Amanda Bostic, editorial director, brilliant; LB Norton, line editor, with the keenest of pens and the sharpest of wits; Becky Monds, editor, keeps the whole team on track with a smile on her face; Jodi Hughes, the ever on-target associate editor; Karli Jackson, associate editor; Kristen Vasgaard, a brilliant manager of packaging; Laura Dickerson, marketing manager, is inspired; Kerri Potts, senior marketing associate, and the inspiration behind my Facebook page; and, of course, special thanks to my friend Katie Bond, director of marketing and publicity. What a great team!
Special thanks to our book agents, Todd Shuster and Lane Zachary of Zachary, Shuster, Harmsworth Literary and Entertainment Agency and Wendy Schmalz of the Wendy Schmalz Agency, who have worked tirelessly.
Thank you to my friend and collaborator, April Henry.
And always, Mom and Dad, thank you does not even begin to express how I feel.
All the mistakes are ours. All the credit is theirs. Thank you!
ALSO BY LIS WIEHL
The Newsmakers (available January 2016)
Snapshot
The Triple Threat Series (with April Henry)
Face of Betrayal
Hand of Fate
Heart of Ice
Eyes of Justice
The East Salem Trilogy (with Pete Nelson)
Waking Hours
Darkness Rising
Fatal Tide
The Mia Quinn Mysteries (with April Henry)
A Matter of Trust
A Deadly Business
Lethal Beauty
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo by Kyle Widder Photography
Lis Wiehl is a New York Times bestselling author, Harvard Law School graduate, and former federal prosecutor. A popular legal analyst and commentator for the Fox News Channel, Wiehl appears weekly on The O’Reilly Factor, Lou Dobbs Tonight, Imus in the Morning, Kelly’s Court, and more.
An Excerpt from Snapshot
Prologue
APRIL 10, 1965
Fort Worth, Texas
Special Agent James Waldren reached around his jacket and felt the Smith & Wesson .38 Special concealed at the small of his back. He scanned the pedestrians up and down the street before responding to the tugs at his sleeve.
“Daddy, look. Daddy, I’m skipping.” Lisa took off in an awkward hop and skip up the sidewalk.
“Wait for me,” James said, picking up his pace. The camera hanging around his neck slapped his chest as he reached out for her arm. “Hold my hand now.”
“And look both ways,” Lisa said as they reached an intersection. The light turned green, and they crossed the street with a growing crowd hurrying forward.
James was keenly aware of the glances, and of how people moved ever so slightly away—some even crossed to the other sidewalk—when they saw him. This wasn’t a neighborhood where a white man and his blond-haired daughter would normally be seen. Lisa skipped along, oblivious.
The sounds of cheering and shouts echoing through a bullhorn increased as they closed in on the throng of people. As a tall man raced by, the placard he carried clattered to the sidewalk. Lisa released James’s hand to run a few steps ahead, reaching the sign as the man bent to pick it up.
“Here you go, sir,” Lisa chirped. She picked up the edge of the sign that had FREEDOM NOW painted in bold red against the white.
The man glanced from Lisa to James, then back to the child. She pushed the end of the wooden pole as high as she could with two hands.
“Thank you, li’l miss,” the man said.
“You’re welcome, sir,” Lisa said, smiling back as he picked up the placard.
He gave James a tentative nod before racing up the street, sign in hand.
As the sidewalk congestion grew, James scooped Lisa into his arms, eliciting a joyful squeal. She rested in the crook of his elbow, and her soft hand reached around his neck, curling her fingers into his hair.
At the corner, the streets lined with tall brick buildings opened to a small park and public square. The air was electric with the energy of the growing crowd.
James surveyed the plaza where at least a hundred people lined the adjacent street, waiting for the approaching marchers: women in Sunday dresses, many with hats and white gloves, pantyhose, and dress shoes; men in crisp button-down shirts and slacks, some with ties and jackets even on this warm spring morning.
“Where is the important man, Daddy?” Lisa craned her neck.
“We’ll see him very soon,” James said, moving closer toward the parade route. His eight years with the Bureau had altered training into instinct, but in the eighteen months since President Kennedy’s assassination in Dallas, every important event held the threat of danger, no matter how peaceful it was planned to be.
James had spent countless hours and overtime investigating the JFK assassination. He was assigned to the killer, the deceased Lee Harvey Oswald—his activities, friends, coworkers, family, and especially his Russian wife, Marina Oswald. Good ole cowboy country hid numerous underground connections and secret groups throughout Dallas, Fort Worth, and outward from the South and across the nation. There were Russian expats with connections in the USSR, hidden KKK members in political positions, and a growing group of black freedom fighters.
But today James tried to blend in. Just another bystander, a normal guy who’d brought his daughter to witness a historical event. Just any white dad who happened to have a revolver and FBI credentials in his wallet. The truth was, James couldn’t be just a bystander. A special agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation was never off duty, and an event like this had layers of possible intrigue. His wife would be furious if she knew he’d brought Lisa with him. She thought they were going to the park.
“Here he comes.” James lifted Lisa onto his shoulders. She patted the top of his head, bouncing up and down with the cheers erupting around them. “See that man, the one in the middle?”
“The man with the big hat?” Lisa leaned down toward his ear. The girl was hat obsessed. She’d wanted to break out her Easter bonnet today, but his wife wanted it saved for Easter Sunday.
“Not that one. The shorter man with the red necktie.” He lifted his camera with one hand and snapped a picture, then advanced the film and snapped another.
“I see him,” she said, bouncing again.
“He’s an important man, a very good writer and speaker.”
James took pictures as they watched the progression down the street. Benjamin Gray was surrounded by marchers holding signs, the cry for freedom and equality on their lips. The crowd took up singing “We Shall Overcome.” Benjamin Gray carried a Bible under his arm and slapped his hands together as he joined in the singing.
Lisa wiggled on James’s shoulders, trying to slide down just as he spotted his partner, Agent Peter Hughes, up a block and across the street.
“Want down, Daddy,” Lisa said.
The marchers made a sharp turn and moved into the square where Gray and other leaders would speak to the crowd.
James set Lisa on the ground, holding on to her arm, but she tugged away from him.
“Wait!” he called, weaving through the crowd after the blond head.
James watched as Lisa stopped a few feet from a little black girl close to her age who sat on a cylindrical concrete seat. The girl stared back at Lisa, then smiled when his daughter waved. Lisa clambered up the seat, pushing higher with her toes. It seemed that thoughts of parades and important men were pushed aside by the more interesting distraction of a potential playmate.
“I’m four,” Lisa said as she held up three fingers, then the fourth.
James didn’t hear the other girl but saw her show Lisa four fingers back. A nearby woman in a large white hat kept a watchful eye from an adjacent, slightly taller bench.
“Can I take a picture?” he asked her.
She leaned back,
studying him and then the two girls before winking and breaking into a smile.
“Go right ahead,” she said, and returned to watching the progression of marchers as they looped from behind them to curve around James toward the central square at his back.
He clicked several photos, struck by the poignancy of the images. These two little girls, one white and one black, sitting side by side, were the symbol of today’s event.
James snapped another picture as the two girls leaned close, smiling and talking as if already friends.
A gunshot pierced the air. Then another.
James jumped to shield Lisa as he grabbed his gun. He moved the two girls directly behind him. His eyes jumped around the crowded plaza behind him, where the shots had come from.
The rally turned into instant chaos, with people running in all directions.
The black girl’s mother screamed at James, hitting him with her purse as she reached for her child.
“It’s okay, I’m FBI.” He flipped out his wallet with the large letters clearly visible, but the woman continued to cry out, gloved hands at her mouth. James passed the child to her, and they were immediately enveloped into the crowd and out of sight.
“They shot him! Help, please help!” someone screamed.
Through the commotion James glimpsed a man on the ground. Beside the body, a Bible lay covered in blood.
James pushed forward with Lisa held against his chest. “Close your eyes,” he demanded.
The faces around him reflected terror and confusion.
As he turned toward the man on the ground, James was certain that Benjamin Gray was already dead.
The story continues in Snapshot by LisWiehl.
