A Thin Dark Line: A Novel

A Thin Dark Line: A Novel

by Tami Hoag

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Terror stalks the streets of Bayou Breaux, Louisiana. A suspected murderer is free on a technicality, and the cop accused of planting evidence against him is ordered off the case. But Detective Nick Fourcade refuses to walk away. He’s stepped over the line before. This case threatens to push him over the edge.

He’s not the only one. Deputy Annie Broussard found the woman’s mutilated body. She still hears the phantom echoes of dying screams. She wants justice. But pursuing the investigation will mean forming an alliance with a man she doesn’t trust and making enemies of the men she works with. It will mean being drawn into the confidence of a killer. For Annie Broussard, finding justice will mean risking everything—including her life.

The search for the truth has begun—one that will lead down a twisted trail through the steamy bayous of Louisiana, and deep into the darkest reaches of the human heart.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780399178917
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Publication date: 01/31/2017
Series: Bayou Series , #3
Pages: 608
Sales rank: 85,025
Product dimensions: 4.10(w) x 7.40(h) x 1.30(d)

About the Author

Tami Hoag's novels have appeared regularly on national bestseller lists since the publication of her first book in 1988. She lives in Los Angeles.

Read an Excerpt

Her body lay on the floor. Her slender arms outflung, palms up. Death. Cold and brutal, strangely intimate.

The people rose in unison as the judge emerged from his chambers. The Honorable Franklin Monahan. The figurehead of justice. The decision would be his.

Black pools of blood in the silver moonlight. Her life drained from her to puddle on the hard cypress floor.

Richard Kudrow, the defense attorney. Thin, gray, and stoop-shouldered, as if the fervor for justice had burned away all excess within him and had begun to consume muscle mass. Sharp eyes and the strength of his voice belied the image of frailty.

Her naked body inscribed with the point of a knife. A work of violent art.

Smith Pritchett, the district attorney. Sturdy and aristocratic. The gold of his cuff links catching the light as he raised his hands in supplication.

Cries for mercy smothered by the cold shadow of death.

Chaos and outrage rolled through the crowd in a wave of sound as Monahan pronounced his ruling. The small amethyst ring had not been listed on the search warrant of the defendant's home and was, therefore, beyond the scope of the warrant and not legally subject to seizure.

Pamela Bichon, thirty-seven, separated, mother of a nine-year-old girl. Brutally murdered. Eviscerated. Her naked body found in a vacant house on Pony Bayou, spikes driven through the palms of her hands into the wood floor; her sightless eyes staring up at nothing through the slits of a feather Mardi Gras mask.

Case dismissed.

The crowd spilled from the Partout Parish Courthouse, past the thick Doric columns and down the broad steps, a buzzing swarm of humanity centering on the key figures of the drama that had played out in Judge Monahan's courtroom.

Smith Pritchett focused his narrow gaze on the navy blue Lincoln that awaited him at the curb and snapped off a staccato line of "no comments" to the frenzied press. Richard Kudrow, however, stopped his descent dead center on the steps.

Trouble was the word that came immediately to Annie Broussard as the press began to circle the defense attorney and his client. Like every other deputy in the sheriff's office, she had hoped against hope that Kudrow would fail in his attempt to get the ring thrown out as evidence. They had all hoped Smith Pritchett would be the one crowing on the courthouse steps.

Sergeant Hooker's voice crackled over the portable radio. "Savoy, Mullen, Prejean, Broussard, move in front of those goddamn reporters. Establish some distance between the crowd and Kudrow and Renard before this turns into a goddamn cluster fuck."

Annie edged her way between bodies, her hand resting on the butt of her baton, her eyes on Marcus Renard as Kudrow began to speak. He stood beside his attorney, looking uncomfortable with the attention being focused on him. He wasn't a man to draw notice. Quiet, unassuming, an architect in the firm of Bowen & Briggs. Not ugly, not handsome. Thinning brown hair neatly combed and hazel eyes that seemed a little too big for their sockets. He stood with his shoulders stooped and his chest sunken, a younger shadow of his attorney. His mother stood on the step above him, a thin woman with a startled expression and a mouth as tight and straight as a hyphen.

"Some people will call this ruling a travesty of justice," Kudrow said loudly. "The only travesty of justice here has been perpetrated by the Partout Parish Sheriff's Department. Their investigation of my client has been nothing short of harassment. Two prior searches of Mr. Renard's home produced nothing that might tie him to the murder of Pamela Bichon."

"Are you suggesting the sheriff's department manipulated evidence?" a reporter called out.

"Mr. Renard has been the victim of a narrow and fanatical investigation led by Detective Nick Fourcade. Y'all are aware of Fourcade's record with the New Orleans Police Department, of the reputation he brought with him to this parish. Detective Fourcade allegedly found that ring in my client's home. Draw your own conclusions."

As she elbowed past a television cameraman, Annie could see Fourcade turning around, half a dozen steps down from Kudrow. The cameras focused on him hastily. His expression was a stone mask, his eyes hidden by a pair of mirrored sunglasses. A cigarette smoldered between his lips. His temper was a thing of legend. Rumors abounded throughout the department that he was not quite sane.

He said nothing in answer to Kudrow's insinuation, and yet the air between them seemed to thicken. Anticipation held the crowd's breath. Fourcade pulled the cigarette from his mouth and flung it down, exhaling smoke through his nostrils. Annie took a half step toward Kudrow, her fingers curling around the grip of her baton. In the next heartbeat Fourcade was bounding up the steps straight at Renard, shouting, "NO!"

"He'll kill him!" someone shrieked.

"Fourcade!" Hooker's voice boomed as the fat sergeant lunged after him, grabbing at and missing the back of his shirt.

"You killed her! You killed my baby girl!"

The anguished shouts tore from the throat of Hunter Davidson, Pamela Bichon's father, as he hurled himself down the steps at Renard, his eyes rolling, one arm swinging wildly, the other hand clutching a .45.

Fourcade knocked Renard aside with a beefy shoulder, grabbed Davidson's wrist, and shoved it skyward as the .45 barked out a shot and screams went up all around. Annie hit Davidson from the right side, her much smaller body colliding with his just as Fourcade threw his weight against the man from the left. Davidson's knees buckled and they all went down in a tangle of arms and legs, grunting and shouting, bouncing hard down the steps, Annie at the bottom of the heap. Her breath was pounded out of her as she hit the concrete steps with four hundred pounds of men on top of her.

"He killed her!" Hunter Davidson sobbed, his big body going limp. "He butchered my girl!"

Annie wriggled out from under him and sat up, grimacing. All she could think was that no physical pain could compare with what this man must have been enduring.

Swiping back the strands of dark hair that had pulled loose from her ponytail, she gingerly brushed over the throbbing knot on the back of her head. Her fingertips came away sticky with blood.

"Take this," Fourcade ordered in a low voice, thrusting Davidson's gun at Annie butt-first. Frowning, he leaned down over Davidson and put a hand on the man's shoulder even as Prejean snapped the cuffs on him. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I wish I coulda let you kill him."

Annie pushed to her feet and tried to straighten the bulletproof vest she wore beneath her shirt. Hunter Davidson was a good man. An honest, hardworking planter who had put his daughter through college and walked her down the aisle the day she married Donnie Bichon. Her murder had shattered him, and the subsequent lack of justice had driven him to this desperate edge. And tonight Hunter Davidson would be the man sitting in jail while Marcus Renard slept in his own bed.

"Broussard!" Hooker snapped irritably, suddenly looming over her, porcine and ugly. "Gimme that gun. Don't just stand there gawking. Get down to that cruiser and open the goddamn doors."

"Yes, sir." Not quite steady on her feet, she started around the back side of the crowd.

With the danger past, the press was in full cry again, more frenzied than before. Renard's entourage had been hustled off the steps. The focus was on Davidson now. Cameramen jostled one another for shots of the despondent father. Microphones were thrust at Smith Pritchett.

"Will you file charges, Mr. Pritchett?"

"Will charges be filed, Mr. Pritchett?"

"Mr. Pritchett, what kind of charges will you file?"

Pritchett glared at them. "That remains to be seen. Please back away and let the officers do their job."

"Davidson couldn't get justice in court, so he sought to take it himself. Do you feel responsible, Mr. Pritchett?"

"We did the best we could with the evidence we had."

"Tainted evidence?"

"I didn't gather it," he snapped, starting back up the steps toward the courthouse, his face as pink as a new sunburn.

Limping, Annie descended the last of the steps and opened the back door of the blue and white cruiser sitting at the curb. Fourcade escorted the sobbing Davidson to the car, with Savoy and Hooker just behind them, and Mullen and Prejean flanking them. The crowd rushed along behind them and beside them like guests at a wedding seeing off the happy couple.

"You gonna book him in, Fourcade?" Hooker asked as Davidson disappeared into the back seat.

"The hell," Fourcade growled, slamming the door. "He didn't commit the worst crime here today. Not even if he'd'a killed the son of a bitch. Book him yourself."

The belligerence brought a rise of color to Hooker's face, but he said nothing as Fourcade crossed the street to a battered black Ford 4X4, climbed in, and drove off in the opposite direction of the parish jail.

The sheriff would chew his ass later, Annie thought as she headed for her own radio car. But then a breach in procedure was the least of Fourcade's worries, and, if anything Richard Kudrow had said was true, the least of his sins.


Excerpted from "A Thin Dark Line"
by .
Copyright © 2017 Tami Hoag.
Excerpted by permission of Random House Publishing Group.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Thin Dark Line 4.4 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 77 reviews.
JessLucy More than 1 year ago
This was the first Tami Hoag novel I ever read and it was exhilarating! I love Broussard and Fourcade, especially together! This book was a suspenseful journey through the streets of Bayou Breaux, Louisiana. I absolutely could not believe the ending! I highly recommend this book; and most of Hoag's other books. I especially liked her other novels from around that same time frame; I didn't care for her early romance novels and her most recent books are good but not great. You may also enjoy: Tess Gerritsen, Ruth Rendell, Barbara Vine, Lee Child, Linda Howard (especially Open Season) , Sandra Brown (especially Envy), Philip Margolin and Patricia Cornwell.
bettyowl More than 1 year ago
I love this book. This is the first book of hers that I read and find myself still recommending it to others. Just when I think I know who has done it, I'm wrong. She continues to be one of my favorite authors.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
My favorite book. Tami Hoag does it again. She never fails to go into detail in her books.
SchwartKB More than 1 year ago
Wow! This one really caught me off guard. It was worth the read.
Guest More than 1 year ago
I was excited to read this book, but it was disappointing. The writing in this is just awful! I haven't read any other material from Tami Hoag, and this writing was just poor and amateur to me. I gave it two stars for two reasons. I thought the plot was indeed a good idea, and who the murderer ended up being was actually a surprise. I could write more on that, but I would run the risk of giving too much away. I just couldn't get over the writing style and the constant dull sections of the book.
Guest More than 1 year ago
There were many reasons I disliked this novel, here are but a few: The author seemed intent on keeping as many characters as possible open to being the murderer until the very end, no matter how implausible the plot became. The author spent at least 200 pages having the main character re-hash all the arguements for and against each person she suspected... over and over and over until I found myself sitting in warm tub of water with a sharp object pressed against my.... The author has her main character do some of the dumbest stuff immaginabe, including climbing into the sack with one of the suspects. The author doesn't limit, in any way, stupidity to her main character. Having had the good fortune to live in The South for many years, I count a lot of friends in a lot of parishes in the great state the characters call home, and none of my friends could hold a candle to the stupidity displayed by any of her characters. Rather than developing characters well, the author tries to insert Cajun dialect to spice things up! Going as far as inserting a glossary in the back of the book... it's painful. So, there are some of the reasons i though this book was awful. I doubt Ms. Hoag will care, she already has my money.
Anonymous 21 days ago
A great read. I loved the South Louisiana setting and the complicated characters. The author manages to weave a love story within the threads of a brutal crime story. Multi demensional characters inhabit the pages and call us to question our definition of justice. I highly recommend this book and crave more stories about Detectives Nick and Annie. There needs to be one that fits between this one and the more recent The Boy that fills in the blanks of their story.
joyfiction on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
A lovely suspense story. Read the book in one night. It was fun to read and I would read it again.
Jthierer on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
This one was just OK. I don't know if it was the Cajun dialect or the slightly over-complicated plot line, but I didn't feel connected to the story or the plot. It would probably have only been 2 stars, but I gave it an extra half for a solid ending.
wyvernfriend on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
Very readable, once you get past the first few pages, and it drags you in with very little effort and had me guessing right to the end. Good read.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Excellent book. This is my 12th book by this author. I really enjoy her style of writing. Havent read one that i wouldnt recommend!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
My favorite Tami Hoag book.  Love the chemistry between Broussard and Fourcade.  Great story line.  Still my favorite Hoag book after many years.
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Good story line.
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babyflower11 More than 1 year ago
I read this book a very long time ago. But it's one of my favorites. What I do remember was that this book is very thrilling mysterious adventure. About detectives getting together and finding out the killer. What makes this my favorite is because of the characters displayed in this book. Their personalities are very strong. I also love the setting of the book, and the way Tami Hoag describes it makes me feel like I'm there as well. Overall, this book is amazing and it has a surprise ending. I recommend this book for people who simply love mysteries and thrillers.
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