Play the Fool
A Mystery
(Sprache: Englisch)
A cynical tarot card reader seeks to uncover the truth about her friend s mysterious death in this delightfully clever whodunit, a delicious blend of suspense and madcap humor (Library Journal, starred review).
For Katie True, a keen gut and quick...
For Katie True, a keen gut and quick...
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A cynical tarot card reader seeks to uncover the truth about her friend s mysterious death in this delightfully clever whodunit, a delicious blend of suspense and madcap humor (Library Journal, starred review).For Katie True, a keen gut and quick wit are just tools of the trade. After a failed attempt at adulting in Chicago, she s back in the suburbs living a bit too close to her overbearing parents, jumping from one dead-end job to the next, and flipping through her tarot deck for guidance. Then along comes Marley.
Mysterious, worldly, and comfortable in her own skin, Marley takes a job at the mall where Katie peddles Russian tchotchkes. The two just get each other. Marley doesn t try to fix Katie s life or pretend to be someone she s not, and Katie thinks that with Marley s friendship, she just might make it through this rough patch after all. Until the day when Katie, having been encouraged by Marley to practice soothsaying, reads the cards for someone who stumbles into her shop. But when she sneaks a glance at his phone, she finds more than intel to improve her clairvoyance. She finds a photo. Of Marley. With a gunshot wound to the head.
The bottom falls out of Katie s world. Her best friend is dead? Who killed her? She quickly realizes there are some things her tarot cards can t foresee, and she must put her razor-sharp instincts to the ultimate test. But Katie s recklessness lands her in the crossfire of a threat she never saw coming. Now she must use her street smarts and her inner Strength card to solve Marley s murder or risk losing everything.
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1I always knew Marley would disappear. We worked across from each other at the Deerpath Shopping Center, me at the Russian knickknack place and her at the goth boutique, where she rang up anarchy T-shirts for tweens in five-hundred-dollar Nikes. She was a lot like me smart enough to get the hell out of Lake Terrace once she grew up, but dumb enough to come back. For how long, I didn t know. She put out a chill bloom-where-you re-planted vibe but always looked like she was watching the exits, marking the days until she could peel out and leave Lake Terrace in the rearview.
When she did disappear, it didn t go down how I expected.
The guy who set the whole thing off walked into Firebird Imports on a Sunday, the deadest day of the week and consequently the only time my boss, Larissa, trusted me to run the place alone. Less for me to screw up. I was laying out a three-card tarot spread when the store s heavy glass door slammed open.
I jerked up. He was plastered against the inside of the door, breathing hard and staring out into the mall a weight-lifter-looking guy with a bristly haircut on a blocky head, a faded Gold s Gym T-shirt, and jogger sweats. He spun toward me and I froze, hands on the cards. There was an angry red gash on the man s forehead.
A low warning throbbed in my mind. Are you Do you need
He took a stumbling step into the store and collided with a sign reading 60% off all musical spoons. The sign bowled over and he floundered after it, hooking it with his arm before it hit the ground. He looked like he was tangoing with a beautiful lady who had been, alas, enchanted into a piece of advertising.
A squeaky honk flew out of me, part dimwit guffaw, part concerned oh! The guy jiggled the sign back into place. I glanced across the mall court: was Marley watching this? At Stone Blossom, the alternative lifestyle boutique where Marley worked, a pale mope in a Black Flag T-shirt slouched at the counter. No
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Marley. I hadn t seen her all day.
Do you need a tissue? I pointed to my own forehead. Or an ambulance or something? My eyes slid to my phone. The low-charge light was blinking, as usual. I didn t have extra cash lying around for new tech toys, so I plundered my brother s castoffs. By the time they reached me, their best days were far behind them.
The guy flinched like he d already forgotten I was there. A red splotch crawled down his temple and landed plop on his shirt. I m fine, he said hoarsely and disappeared in the jungle of display racks at the front of the store. I craned my neck after him. At least if he stole something, I could tell Larissa a piece of merchandise had made it out of here today. He picked up a lacquered box and stared at it with glassy eyes. Just looking around.
Shocker. Everyone was always just looking around. Earlier, a guy came in looking for a Cubs jersey, and I had to inform him, reading off our perfectly visible sign, that we sold only fine goods from Russia and Eastern Europe. Then a mom came in with three kids and a screaming baby, looking for a bathroom. I pointed her to the family one out in the mall, where someone had Sharpied a set of anatomically correct genitals on the dad icon.
Suit yourself. I sat down and swept the loose cards into the deck. I pegged this guy for a Cup, but a sloppy, backassward one, awash in reversed Swords. All emotion, no control. He d probably just gotten in a parking lot shoving match with some other muscle-head over a dinged-up Jeep. In my head, I was already telling Marley about him. We d been hanging out every Sunday night aft
Do you need a tissue? I pointed to my own forehead. Or an ambulance or something? My eyes slid to my phone. The low-charge light was blinking, as usual. I didn t have extra cash lying around for new tech toys, so I plundered my brother s castoffs. By the time they reached me, their best days were far behind them.
The guy flinched like he d already forgotten I was there. A red splotch crawled down his temple and landed plop on his shirt. I m fine, he said hoarsely and disappeared in the jungle of display racks at the front of the store. I craned my neck after him. At least if he stole something, I could tell Larissa a piece of merchandise had made it out of here today. He picked up a lacquered box and stared at it with glassy eyes. Just looking around.
Shocker. Everyone was always just looking around. Earlier, a guy came in looking for a Cubs jersey, and I had to inform him, reading off our perfectly visible sign, that we sold only fine goods from Russia and Eastern Europe. Then a mom came in with three kids and a screaming baby, looking for a bathroom. I pointed her to the family one out in the mall, where someone had Sharpied a set of anatomically correct genitals on the dad icon.
Suit yourself. I sat down and swept the loose cards into the deck. I pegged this guy for a Cup, but a sloppy, backassward one, awash in reversed Swords. All emotion, no control. He d probably just gotten in a parking lot shoving match with some other muscle-head over a dinged-up Jeep. In my head, I was already telling Marley about him. We d been hanging out every Sunday night aft
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Autoren-Porträt von Lina Chern
Lina Chern has been published in Mystery Weekly, The Marlboro Review, the Bellingham Review, Rhino, The Collagist, Black Fox Literary magazine, and the Coil. She lives in the Chicago area with her family. Play the Fool is her debut novel.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Lina Chern
- 2023, 320 Seiten, Maße: 13,1 x 20,2 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Bantam
- ISBN-10: 0593500660
- ISBN-13: 9780593500668
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
With a delicious blend of suspense and madcap humor, Chern s standout debut is guaranteed to delight fans of Lisa Lutz [and] Alan Bradley, and readers who enjoy witty, fast-paced mysteries. Library Journal (starred review)A sharp, unique, and memorable debut, Play the Fool is unlike any mystery I ve read before and that s a good thing! Lina Chern s voice shines brightly, and readers will be immediately drawn into Katie True s twisty and gripping investigation. It s a fantastic read. Alex Segura, bestselling author of Secret Identity
Lina Chern s Play the Fool pulls off a tricky blend of humor and menace that had me flipping pages like crazy. The mystery is fresh and twisty, but it s her characters (and voice) that kept me enthralled. I can t believe this is a debut novel, and I can t wait for more. Duane Swierczynski, award-winning author of Canary
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