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Roadside Crosses Excerpt

Out of place.

The California Highway Patrol trooper, young with bristly yellow hair beneath his crisp hat, squinted through the windshield of his Crown Victoria Police Interceptor as he cruised south along Highway 1 in Monterey. Dunes to the right, modest commercial sprawl to the left.

Something was out of place. What?

Heading home at 5:00 p.m. after his tour had ended, he surveyed the road. The trooper didn’t write a lot of tickets here, leaving that to the county deputies — professional courtesy — but he occasionally lit up somebody in a German or Italian car if he was in a mood, and this was the route he often took home at this time of day, so he knew the highway pretty well.

There . . . that was it. Something colorful, a quarter mile ahead, sat by the side of the road, sitting at the base of one of the hills of sand that cut off the view of Monterey Bay.

What could it be?

He hit his light bar — protocol — and pulled over onto the right shoulder. He parked with the hood of the Crown Vic pointed leftward toward traffic, so a rear-ender would shove the car away from, not over him, and climbed out. Stuck in the sand just beyond the shoulder was a cross — a roadside memorial. It was about eighteen inches high and homemade, cobbled together out of dark, broken-off branches, bound with wire like florists use. Dark red roses sat in a splashy bouquet at the base. A cardboard disk was in the center, the date of the accident written on it in blue ink. There were no names on the front or back.

Officially these memorials to traffic accident victims were discouraged, since people were occasionally injured, even themselves killed, planting a cross or leaving flowers or stuffed animals.

Usually the memorials were tasteful and poignant. This one was spooky.

What was odd, though, was that he couldn’t remember any accidents along here. In fact this was one of the safest stretches of Highway 1 in California. The roadway becomes an obstacle course south of Carmel, like that spot of a really sad accident several weeks ago: two girls killed coming back from a graduation party. But here, the highway was three lanes and mostly straight, with occasional lazy bends through the old Fort Ord grounds, now a college, and the shopping districts.

The trooper thought about removing the cross, but the mourners might return to leave another one and endanger themselves again. Best just to leave it. Out of curiosity he’d check with his sergeant in the morning and find out what had happened. The trooper walked back to his car, tossed his hat on the seat and rubbed his crew cut. He pulled back into traffic, his mind no longer on roadside accidents. He was thinking about what his wife would be making for supper, about taking the kids to the pool afterward.

And when was his brother coming to town? He looked at the date window on his watch. He frowned. Was that right? A glance at his cell phone confirmed that, yes, today was June 25.

That was curious. Whoever had left the roadside cross had made a mistake. He remembered that the date crudely written on the cardboard disk was June 26, Tuesday, tomorrow.

Maybe the poor mourners who’d left the memorial had been so upset they’d jotted the date down wrong.

Then the images of the eerie cross faded, though they didn’t vanish completely and, as the officer headed down the highway home, he drove a bit more carefully.

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Roadside Crosses Reviews

“I gave Jeffery Deaver’s latest a read and found it to be a fast-paced, gripping tale, with lots of twists and turns.”
— Pennie’s Picks, Costco Connection magazine

“Of all the beasts on the prowl, none is more unnerving than a disaffected teenage boy with a grudge and a gun. Leaving to others the in-depth psychological analysis of such youthful spree killers, Jeffery Deaver turns his attention in ROADSIDE CROSSES to the social triggers that set them off. …the techno-savvy Deaver is too much the master gamesman to scold anyone else for a little excessive play, and in some brilliant plot maneuvers he counters every warning about warrior bloggers and glassy-eyed gamers with well-reasoned arguments in their defense — and real doubts about their proclivity to commit murder. Like his best players, he has one of those puzzle-loving minds you just can’t trust.”
— Marilyn Stasio, New York Times

“ROADSIDE CROSSES is a gripping story peopled with memorable characters. No surprise. Jeffery Deaver is grand master of the ticking-clock thriller.”
— author Kathy Reichs

“Deaver’s expert and devious plotting makes it a challenge to stay only a couple of steps behind him”
— Publishers Weekly

“Tightly constructed with a suspenseful story and plenty of plot twists, Deaver, perhaps more than any other crime writer, is able to fool even the most experienced readers with his right-angle turns . . . an excellent entry in what promises to be a series as popular as the author’s Lincoln Rhyme novels.”
— Booklist

“Deaver is one of the best thriller writers at incorporating the latest technology into his plots, and he’s got the world of social networking and blogs down cold, from the flame wars to the lingo to the dysfunctional personality types. That dose of realism adds a fresh, contemporary edge to the story. Deaver puts the emphasis in his books on intricate plot twists rather than breakneck pacing, which makes Roadside Crosses the perfect book for a quiet summer afternoon where a little relaxation—accompanied, naturally, by a jolt of suspense—is the order of the day.”
— David Montgomery, TheDailyBeast.com

One Of The Notable Crime Books of 2009
— Marilyn Stasio, New York Times