Cover image for Stalker : a novel
Stalker : a novel
Kellerman, Faye.
Personal Author:
Publication Information:
[New York, N.Y.] : William Morrow & Company, [publisher not identified], [2000]

Physical Description:
406 pages ; 24 cm
General Note:
"A Peter Decker/Rina Lazarus novel. "
Format :


Call Number
Material Type
Home Location
Central Library FICTION Adult Fiction Central Closed Stacks
Central Library FICTION Adult Fiction Popular Materials-Mystery
Central Library FICTION Adult Fiction Central Closed Stacks
Newstead Library X Adult Fiction Mystery/Suspense
Clarence Library X Adult Fiction Mystery/Suspense
Concord Library X Adult Fiction Mystery/Suspense
Eggertsville-Snyder Library X Adult Fiction Mystery/Suspense
Grand Island Library X Adult Fiction Open Shelf
Kenmore Library FICTION Adult Fiction Mystery/Suspense
Lake Shore Library X Adult Fiction Open Shelf
Marilla Free Library X Adult Fiction Mystery/Suspense
Orchard Park Library X Adult Fiction Mystery/Suspense
Williamsville Library X Adult Fiction Mystery/Suspense
Audubon Library X Adult Fiction Mystery/Suspense

On Order



A first-year rookie with the LAPD's Hollywood Division, Cynthia Decker became a cop against her father's wishes. But police work is in her blood, and she's determined to make it on her own, without Peter Decker's help. Although her time in uniform has been brief, her instincts for danger are already razor sharplike the electric tingle that is telling her something is very wrong . . . right now.

It begins with a nagging sense that she is being watched, that little things are being moved around in her apartment. The feeling of dread escalates when she finds that some personal effects have been crudely destroyed. But it's a harrowing trip down a dark canyon road that substantiates Cindy's worst fear: For some unknown reason someone fiendishly relentless-someone with decidedly evil intentions-is stalking her.

Cindy is fiercely independent, and her stubborn pride will not allow her to confide in her father-nor can she seek the guidance and advice of her stepmother, Rina. And as Decker's own investigation into a particularly heinous string of carjackings further isolates him from his daughter's troubles, Cindy covertly begins to probe her personal and professional lives for the identity of the person who wants her frightened, harmed . . . or dead. As her stalker grows bolder and more devious, Cindy finds her options limited, her friends and colleagues off-bounds-as the well-concealed rages and dark secrets of those surrounding her slowly come to light and threaten to pull a nightmare out of the shadows and in for the kill.

Author Notes

Faye Kellerman was born in St. Louis, Missouri on July 31, 1952. She received a B.A. in mathematics and a doctorate in dentistry from UCLA. Instead of becoming a dentist, she decided to become a writer after being inspired by the success of her husband, Jonathan Kellerman.

Her first novel, The Ritual Bath, won the 1987 Macavity Award for Best First Mystery. It also became the first book in the Peter Decker and Rina Lazarus Novel series, which consists of over 20 volumes. Her other books include Moon Music, The Quality of Mercy, Prism written with Aliza Kellerman, and Double Homicide and Capital Crimes written with Jonathan Kellerman. She received a lifetime achievement award from Strand Magazine on July 10, 2013. She made the New York Times Best Seller List in 2017 with her title Bone Box.

(Bowker Author Biography)

Reviews 3

Booklist Review

Popular author Kellerman returns with another installment in the Peter Decker/Rina Lazarus series, this time focusing on Decker's daughter, police officer Cindy Decker. With an Ivy League education, a high-ranking policeman father, and an outspoken, aggressive attitude, Cindy is having trouble fitting in with her old-fashioned, blue-collar LAPD colleagues. Now she has successfully handled a volatile domestic dispute but, in the process, made a few more enemies on the force. Then she realizes she's being stalked: Is she being hazed by her colleagues or is it related to the series of violent carjackings that her father is investigating? The page-turner of a plot is fueled by Kellerman's seemingly boundless knowledge of the psychological mind-set of both cops and criminals. With its many compelling characters and asides on everything from religion to family dynamics, this is another winner in a solid series. --Joanne Wilkinson

Publisher's Weekly Review

LAPD detective Peter Decker, promoted to lieutenant after his heroics in Jupiter's Bones (1999), is overloaded with troubles in this outstanding, suspense-packed mystery, the 12th in Kellerman's acclaimed series. As usual, a challenging case distracts Decker from his family, but this time there is one difference. Cindy, his smart, outspoken daughter from his first marriage, is now a cop, to the overprotective Decker's dismay. Meanwhile, Decker is faced with two different series of car-jackings. In one string, the thief targets young women carrying babies. The cops tie the other jackings to Armand Crayton, a sleazy real estate developer who had supposedly died in a car crash a year earlier, after being kidnapped. Several women Crayton knew have been threatened, their cars stolen. When Drecker discovers that an anonymous stalker has been harassing Cindy, he hits the roof. Is it one of her colleagues, or does trouble stem from her casual acquaintance with Crayton? Kellerman is a fine writer, beautifully evoking the feel of Los Angeles and creating scenes that would please Chandler and MacDonald. She deals realistically with the problems women face in a male police world. Her development of the tense father-daughter relationship is wise and honest: Decker is torn between his inability to accept Cindy as an independent adult and his pride in her accomplishments; meanwhile, Cindy respects and loves her father but is distraught by his interference in her personal and professional life. The complex Cindy is a most welcome addition to Kellerman's cast. (Aug.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

Library Journal Review

This is the 12th book in Kellerman's best-selling Peter Decker series (e.g., Jupiter's Bones). This time out, Kellerman features Decker's daughter Cindy, a pretty, smart, and fiercely independent young LAPD cop who is having a tough time being accepted by her male co-workers. One night at Bellini's, the vividly evoked bar that Cindy frequents, she has too much to drink and gets a ride home from Scott Oliver, a handsome detective who works for her father. When Cindy finds herself being stalked, she sets out to discover what, if anything, her stalker has to do with the car-jacking case that Scott and her father are working on. Cindy is an engaging, believable character, but Kellerman focuses so much attention on her struggle for independence that she fails to develop suspense in either the stalking plot or the budding romance with Scott. Recommended for public libraries where there is interest in the series. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 4/15/00.]DJane la Plante, Minot State Univ. Lib., ND (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.



Stalker Chapter One It should have happened at night, in a secluded corner of a dimly fit parking lot. Instead, it occurred at one twenty-five in the afternoon. Farin knew the time because she had peeked through the car window, glancing at the clock in her Volvo -- purportedly one of the safest cars on the road. Farin was a bug on safety. A fat lot of good that was doing her now. It wasn't fair because she had done everything right. She had parked in an open area across the street from the playground, for God's sakes! There were people in plain view. For instance, there was a man walking a brown pit bull on a leash, the duo strolling down one of the sunlit paths that led up into the mountains. And over to the left, there was a lady in a denim jacket reading the paper. There were kids on the play equipment: a gaggle of toddlers climbing the jungle gym, preschoolers on the slides and wobbly walk-bridge, babies in the infant swings. Mothers were with them, keeping a watchful eye over their charges. Not watching her, of course. Scads of people, but none who could help because at the moment, she had a gun in her back. Farin said, "Just please don't hurt my bab --" "You shut up! You say one more word, you are dead!" The voice was male. "Look straight ahead!" Farin obeyed. The disembodied voice went on. "You turn around, you are dead. You do not look at me. Understand?" Farin nodded yes, keeping her eyes down. His voice was in the medium to high range. Slightly clipped, perhaps accented. Immediately, Tara started crying. With shaking hands, Farin clutched her daughter to her chest, and cooed into her seashell ear. Instinctively, she brought her purse over Tara's back, drawing her coat over handbag and child. Farin hoped that if the man did shoot, she and the purse would be the protective bread in the Tara sandwich, the bullet having to penetrate another surface before it could -- The gun's nozzle dug into her backbone. She bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out. "Drop your purse!" the voice commanded. Immediately, Farin did as ordered. She heard him rooting through her handbag, doing this single-handedly because the gun was still pressing into her kidneys. Please let this be a simple purse snatching! She heard a jangle of metal. Her keys? Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the passenger door to her station wagon had been opened. Again, she felt the press of the gun. "Go in. From passenger's side! You do it or I shoot your baby!" At the mention of her baby, Farin lost all resolve. Tears poured down from her eyes. Hugging her child, she walked around the front of the car, thoughts of escape cut short by the metal at her tailbone. She paused at the sight of the open door. "Go on!" he barked. "Do it now!" With Tara at her bosom, she bent down until she found her footing. Then she slid into her passengers seat. "Move across!" he snapped Farin tried to figure out how to do this. The car had bucket seats and there was a console between them. With clumsy, halted motions, and still holding Tara, she lifted her butt over the leather-cushioned wall, and into the driver's seat, both now scrunched behind the wheel. Again, Tara started to cry. "You shut her up!" he barked. She's a baby! Farin wanted to shout. She's scared! Instead, she began to rock her, singing softly into her ear. He was right beside her, the gun now in her rib cage. Don't look at him , Farin reminded herself. Don't look, don't look, don't look! Staring straight ahead. But she could tell that the gun had shifted to Tara's head. Think, Farin! Think! But nothing came into her hapless brain, not a thought, not a clue. Fear had penetrated every pore of her being as her heart banged hard against her breastbone. Her chest was tight; her breathing was labored. Within seconds, Farin felt her head go light, along with that ominous darkening of her vision. Sparkles popped through her brain ... that awful sensation of floating to nothingness. No, she hadn't been shot. She was going to pass out! Don't pass out, you fool. You can't afford -- His voice brought her back to reality. "You give me the girl! Then you drive!" Tara was still on her lap, little hands grabbing Farin's blouse. Once Tara was out of her grip, Farin knew they both were helpless unless she did something. Farin knew she had to move . Without warning, she pivoted around, using the solid weight of her shoulder bone to slam it against his gun-toting hand. Although the sudden move didn't dislodge the gun from his grip, it did push his hand away, giving Farin about a second to spring into action. This time, the console was her friend. Because now he had to get over it to do something to her . She jerked down on the door handle, then kicked open the metal barrier to the max. Still holding Tara, Farin bolted from her seat, and attempted to run away. But her shoe caught and she tripped, failing toward die pebbly road What a klutz! Thinking as she plunged downward: Break the fall with your hip, cover Tara, then kick... she contorted, managing to land on her hip and shoulder, scraping her right cheek on the unforgiving, rocky asphalt. Immediately, she rolled on top of Tara. Finding her vocal cords, she let out a scream worthy of the best B horror movies. A deep male voice shouting, " What's going on over there? " Even from her poor vantage point, Farin thought... Stalker . Copyright © by Faye Kellerman. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from Stalker: A Peter Decker/Rina Lazarus Novel by Faye Kellerman All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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