Most Wanted Read online

  6. What do you think about nature vs. nurture? Do you think that a tendency toward violence is inherited through DNA or created by the environment to which a person is exposed? What are your thoughts about the warrior gene? Do you think it is a real genetic indicator? With the amount of violence in today’s society, do you think children should be tested for it? If yes, under what circumstances, if no, why not? What would be the benefits of this and what would be the downside?

  7. The competitive tension between Marcus and his father is palpable. In what ways do you think the competitiveness was positive for Marcus, and in what ways did it have a negative impact? Do you think it was a good idea or a bad idea for Marcus not to partner with his father in his firm? In what ways are Marcus and his father similar, and in what ways are they different? Who did you like better, and why? Do you think mothers and daughters compete the same way that fathers and sons do? If not, do you think it’s all about the testosterone?

  8. Like most mothers, Christine will do anything for her child and won’t take no for an answer. What is the craziest thing you have done for your child, or what is the craziest thing your parent has ever done for you?

  9. Often the allure of committing a crime is the notoriety it brings. Christine poses as someone looking to write a book about the serial killer. Although there are laws in most states that regulate felons making money off book, movie, and TV deals, the attention is still appealing to the criminal. What can we do as a society to reduce the amount of fame that comes with committing a crime? Why do you think we often focus more on the criminal than the victims? How much of the responsibility lies with the media for the stories they report, and how much of it lies with the general public, which supports the sensationalization of these stories?

  10. In the end, Most Wanted is the story of a family, although one in crisis. Every family faces challenges that can make them stronger, or divide them. What challenges has your family faced, and how did it change your family? In looking back, what would you have done differently, and what would you do the same?

  Read on for a sneak peek

  at Lisa Scottoline’s next

  Rosato & DiNunzio novel

  Damaged

  Available August 2016

  Copyright © 2016 by Smart Blonde, LLC.

  Chapter One

  Mary DiNunzio hurried down the pavement, late to work for a dumb reason, namely that she’d had to stop by the new caterer and try crabmeat dumplings with Asian pears. Her stomach grumbled, unaccustomed to shellfish for breakfast, much less pears of any ethnicity. Her wedding was only two weeks away, but their first caterer had gone bankrupt, not only keeping their deposit but requiring her to pick a reception menu all over again. Given the time constraints, she had approved the crabmeat dumplings, proof that her standards for her wedding had started at Everything Must Be Perfect, declined to Good Enough, and ended at Whatever, I Do.

  Mary’s heels clacked against the concrete, and she tilted her head down in thought. It was a typical September in Philly, still hot and humid with everyone sweating as they hustled to work. Businesspeople flowed around her, plugged into earbuds and reading their phone screens, but Mary didn’t need an electronic device to be distracted, she had her regrets. She’d made some stupid decisions in her life, but by far the stupidest was not using a wedding planner. She earned enough money to hire one, but she’d thought she could do it herself. She’d figured it wasn’t rocket science, after all, and she had a law degree, which should count for more than the ability to sue the first caterer for free.

  But everything was going wrong with her wedding plans, and Mary didn’t have the time to deal. She was a partner at Rosato & DiNunzio, so she was already working like an animal, plus managing her wacky family in full-blown premarital frenzy was like a second job. Her fiancé Anthony was away on business for most of the month, leaving her to deal with her soon-to-be mother-in-law Elvira, or El Virus. Meanwhile, tonight was the final fitting for Mary’s dress and tomorrow night was her hair-and-makeup trial. She was beginning to think of her entire wedding as a trial, a notion she hated despite the fact that she was a trial lawyer. Maybe she needed a new job, too.

  Mary kicked herself as she walked along, a skill not easily performed by anyone but a Guilt Professional. She had no idea why she always thought she should do everything herself. She only ended up stressed-out, every time. She was forever trying to prove something, but she didn’t know what or to whom. She felt like she’d been in a constant state of performance since the day she was born, and she didn’t know when the show would be over. Maybe when she was married. Or dead. Yay!

  She reached her office building, went through the revolving door, and crossed the air-conditioned lobby, smiling for the security guard. The elevator was standing open and empty, so she climbed inside, pushed the UP button, and put on her game face. She was running fifteen minutes late for her first client, which only added to her burden of guilt, since she hated to be late for anything or anyone. Mary’s friends knew that if she was fifteen minutes late, she must have been abducted.

  She checked her appearance in the stainless-steel doors, like a corporate mirror. Her reflection was blurry, but she could see the worry lines in her forehead, and her dark blonde hair was swept back into a low ponytail because she didn’t have time to blow it dry. She had on her old tortoiseshell glasses instead of her contacts, her eyes tired since she’d spent the night emailing the wedding guests who hadn’t RSVP’d yet, which was almost everyone. She had on a fitted navy dress and she was even wearing pantyhose, which qualified as dressed up at Rosato & DiNunzio.

  Mary watched impatiently as the floor numbers changed. Her legal practice was general, which meant she handled a variety of cases, mostly state-court matters for low damages, and her client base came from the middle-class families and small businesses of South Philly, where she’d grown up. She wasn’t one of those lawyers who got their self-esteem from handling big, federal-court cases for Fortune 500 clients. Not that she got her self-esteem from within. Mary was the Neighborhood Girl Who Made Good, so she got her self-esteem from being universally beloved, which was why she was never, ever late. Until now.

  “Hi, Marshall!” Mary called out to the receptionist, as soon as the elevator doors opened. She glanced around the waiting room, which was empty, and hurried to the reception desk. Marshall Trow was more the firm’s Earth Goddess than its receptionist, dressing the part in her flowing boho dress, long brown braid, and pretty, wholesome features, devoid of makeup. Marshall’s demeanor was straight-up Namaste, which was probably a job requirement for working for lawyers.

  “Good morning.” Marshall smiled calmly as Mary approached.

  “Where’s O’Brien? Is he here already? Did you get my text?”

  “Yes, he’s here, but don’t worry. I put him in conference room C with fresh coffee and Danish from the deli.”

  “Thank you so much.” Mary breathed a relieved sigh.

  “No worries. I chatted with him briefly. He’s an older man, you know. Maybe in his seventies. He seems very nice. Quiet.”

  “Good to know. I don’t even know what the case is about. He didn’t want to talk about it over the phone.”

  Marshall lifted an unplucked eyebrow. “Then you don’t know who your opposing counsel is?”

  “No, who?” Mary was just about to leave the desk, but stopped.

  “The Dark Prince.”

  “What?” Mary felt her juices flowing. The Dark Prince of South Philly was Nick Machiavelli, who claimed to be a direct descendent of the infamous Prince Niccolò Machiavelli of Florence. It was absurd, but Machiavelli played it up, even having a vanity license plate that read DRKPRNCE on his silver Porsche Boxster, which was another name for douchemobile.

  “So, Machiavelli. Now we’ll get to see if he’s real.”

  “He’s real, all right. A real tool. Who gives himself a nickname?”

  “A superb marketer.” Marshall handed Mary a few pink phone messages and a stack of
morning mail.

  “Good lawyers don’t have to market themselves.” Mary had known Nick since high school because he had gone to Bishop Neumann, the brother school to her alma mater, St. Maria Goretti. He had been voted Class President, Prom King, and Most Likely to Succeed because he was cunning, handsome—and basically, Machiavellian.

  “Is he a good lawyer?”

  “Honestly, yes.” Mary didn’t underestimate Machiavelli. He had built a booming practice the same way she had, drawing on individuals and businesses from their neighborhood, and the stories about his legal prowess were legendary, though Mary bet they were exaggerated by his public-relations firm.

  “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” Mary took off down the hallway, with one stop to make before her office. Her gut churned, but it could have been the dumplings. The real Niccolò Machiavelli had thought it was better to be feared than loved, and as a lawyer, the fake Machiavelli was feared, not loved. On the other hand, Mary was loved, but not feared. She always knew that one day they would meet in a courtroom battle, and that when they did, it would be a fight between good and evil, with billable hours.

  Mary reached her best friend Judy’s office, where she ducked inside and set down a foam container of leftover dumplings, amid the happy clutter of the desk. Judy Carrier was one of those people who could eat constantly and never gain weight, like a mythical beast or maybe a girl unicorn.

  “Good morning!” Judy looked up from her laptop with a broad grin. She had a space between her two front teeth that somehow she made look adorable, on a cheery face that was as round as the sun, with punky blonde hair framing her large blue eyes and turned-up nose. Judy was the firm’s legal genius, though she was a free spirit, a native North Californian. Judy painted for a hobby and dressed artsy, like today she had on a boxy hot-pink T-shirt that read FIORUCCI, with yellow shorts and orange Crocs covered by stuck-on multi-colored daisies.

  “Please tell me that you’re not going to court dressed like that.”

  “I’m not, but I think I look cute.” Judy reached for the container. “I love that you had to get another caterer.”

  “Guess what, I have a case against Machiavelli. The client is in the conference room.”

  Judy’s blue eyes lit up as she opened the lid of the container, but Mary didn’t know if it was for the food or the news. “Are you kidding?”

  “I don’t kid about The Dark Prince.”

  “You do too, all the time. You’re obsessed.” Judy opened the drawer that contained her secret stash of plastic forks, like a set of carcinogenic cutlery.

  “I’m not obsessed.”

  “You Facebook-stalk him.” Judy got a fork and shut the drawer.

  “Only for the legal news.”

  “You memorize his press releases.” Judy opened the food container, sniffing.

  “He’s my main competitor.”

  “It’s more than that. He’s your nemesis. The negative to your positive. Your white whale. You’ve been gunning for him for years, Ahab.”

  “I have not!” Mary didn’t have time to argue. Plus Judy was usually right, which annoyed her. “You call yourself a BFF? You’re supposed to hate who I hate.”

  “Meanwhile, this smells like crabmeat.” Judy frowned at the dumplings. “I thought you were going vegetarian. Crabmeat is not vegetarian.”

  “It’s vegetarian enough,” Mary said on her way out. “I gotta go.”

  “There’s no such thing as vegetarian enough!” Judy called after her, and Mary hurried to her office, dumped her purse, mail, and messenger bag inside, grabbed her laptop, and hustled to conference room C, where she opened the door.

  “Mr. O’Brien, I’m sorry I’m late—” Mary started to say.

  “Oh, my!” O’Brien looked up from the credenza, where the coffee and Danish were laid out, but he wasn’t eating anything, and in fact, he was wiping his eyes with a napkin as if he’d been crying.

  Mary hid her reaction, which was dismayed. It figured that Machiavelli would be on the other side of the case that would make a grown man cry. She didn’t know what this case was about, but then and there, Mary made a vow to herself.

  She was going to win.

  Also by Lisa Scottoline

  Every Fifteen Minutes

  Keep Quiet

  Don’t Go

  Come Home

  Save Me

  Look Again

  Daddy’s Girl

  Dirty Blonde

  Devil’s Corner

  Running From the Law

  Final Appeal

  Rosato & DiNunzio Novels

  Corrupted

  Betrayed

  Accused

  Rosato & Associates Novels

  Think Twice

  Lady Killer

  Killer Smile

  Dead Ringer

  Courting Trouble

  The Vendetta Defense

  Moment of Truth

  Mistaken Identity

  Rough Justice

  Legal Tender

  Everywhere That Mary Went

  Nonfiction (with Francesca Serritella)

  Does This Beach Make Me Look Fat?

  Have a Nice Guilt Trip

  Meet Me at Emotional Baggage Claim

  Best Friends, Occasional Enemies

  My Nest Isn’t Empty, It Just Has More Closet Space

  Why My Third Husband Will Be a Dog

  About the Author

  LISA SCOTTOLINE is a New York Times bestselling and Edgar Award–winning author of twenty-four novels. She has 30 million copies of her books in print in the United States, and she has been published in thirty-five countries. She has served as the president of Mystery Writers of America, and her thrillers have been optioned for television and film. She also writes a weekly humor column with her daughter, Francesca Serritella, for The Philadelphia Inquirer, and those critically acclaimed stories have been adapted into a series of memoirs, the first of which is entitled Why My Third Husband Will Be a Dog. She lives in the Philadelphia area with an array of disobedient pets. Visit www.scottoline.com or follow Lisa on Facebook or Twitter at @LisaScottoline. Or sign up for email updates here.

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  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

&n
bsp; Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Reading Group Guide

  An Original Essay from the Author

  Ideas for Book Groups

  Reading Group Questions

  Excerpt from Damaged

  Also by Lisa Scottoline

  About the Author

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  MOST WANTED. Copyright © 2016 by Smart Blonde, LLC. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.stmartins.com

  Cover design by Michael Storrings

  Cover photographs: baby feet © Stephen Carroll / Getty Images; blanket © Lee Avison / Getty Images

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

  Names: Scottoline, Lisa, author.

  Title: Most wanted / Lisa Scottoline.

  Description: First edition. | New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2016.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2015045858 | ISBN 9781250010131 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781250088123 (ebook)

  Subjects: LCSH: Pregnant women—Fiction. | Murder—Investigation—Fiction. | BISAC: FICTION / Thrillers. | FICTION / Suspense. | GSAFD: Suspense fiction. | Mystery fiction.

  Classification: LCC PS3569.C725 M65 2016 | DDC 813/.54—dc23