Lock Every Door by Riley Sager
English | 2019 | Mystery/Thriller | ePUB | 928 Kb
Lock Every Door : Parade, “The Most Anticipated Books of Summer 2019 ” and “The Best Beach Reads of Summer 2019”
Good Housekeeping, “Best New Books for Summer 2019″
PureWow “The Best Beach Reads of Summer 2019”
BookBub “Books That Will Make the Perfect Addition to Your Beach Bag This Summer”
The next heart-pounding thriller from New York Times bestselling author Riley Sager follows a young woman whose new job apartment sitting in one of New York’s oldest and most glamorous buildings may cost more than it pays.
No visitors. No nights spent away from the apartment. No disturbing the other residents, all of whom are rich or famous or both. These are the only rules for Jules Larsen’s new job as an apartment sitter at the Bartholomew, one of Manhattan’s most high-profile and mysterious buildings. Recently heartbroken and just plain broke, Jules is taken in by the splendor of her surroundings and accepts the terms, ready to leave her past life behind.
As she gets to know the residents and staff of the Bartholomew, Jules finds herself drawn to fellow apartment sitter Ingrid, who comfortingly reminds her of the sister she lost eight years ago. When Ingrid confides that the Bartholomew is not what it seems and the dark history hidden beneath its gleaming facade is starting to frighten her, Jules brushes it off as a harmless ghost story . . . until the next day, when Ingrid disappears.
Searching for the truth about Ingrid’s disappearance, Jules digs deeper into the Bartholomew’s sordid past and into the secrets kept within its walls. What she discovers pits Jules against the clock as she races to unmask a killer, expose the building’s hidden past, and escape the Bartholomew before her temporary status becomes permanent.
“That’s what they were doing when I walked in with my sad little box of things hastily cleared from my cubicle. They hadn’t even made it to the bedroom. I found them on the secondhand sofa, Andrew with his jeans around his ankles and his side piece’s legs spread wide.
I’d be sad about the whole thing if I wasn’t still so angry. And hurt. And blaming myself for settling for someone like Andrew. I knew he was unhappy with his job and that he wanted more out of life. What I didn’t know was that he also wanted more than just me.
Leslie Evelyn leads me into the kitchen, which is so huge it has two entrances—one from the dining room, one from the hall. I rotate slowly, dazzled by its pristine whiteness, its granite countertops, its breakfast nook by the window. It looks like something straight out of a cooking show. A kitchen designed to be as photogenic as possible.
“It’s massive,” I say, awed by its sheer size.
“It’s a throwback from when the Bartholomew first opened,” Leslie says. “While the building itself hasn’t changed much, the apartments themselves have been renovated quite a bit over the years. Some got bigger. Others smaller. This one used to be the kitchen and servants’ quarters for a much larger unit below. See?”
Leslie moves to a cupboard with a sliding door that’s tucked between the oven and the sink. When she lifts the door, I see a dark shaft and two tendrils of rope hanging from a pulley rig above.
“Is that a dumbwaiter?”
“Where does it go?”