{"product_id":"blood-relay-isbn-9780593983829","title":"Blood Relay","description":"\u003cb\u003eIn this richly layered debut thriller reminiscent of the real issue of missing and murdered Indigenous people, a badass Choctaw detective discovers an insidious plot against her reservation while investigating the disappearance of a beloved champion athlete.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eChoctaw Detective Perry Antelope has been with her partner, Sophia Burns, for only six months. Perry is a seasoned investigator while the ex-Olympian shot putter Sophia is a former street-smart police officer. Together, they are an intrepid pair with an established record of success. But when Perry and Sophia are called to investigate the disappearance of Dels Billy, a beloved women’s Indian Horse Relay rider, they quickly realize that it’s not as cut-and-dry as anything they’ve faced before.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePiece by piece, they uncover unsettling connections between Dels’s disappearance and a series of unsolved abductions of women from Oklahoma reservations. But the perpetrator always seems to be one step ahead, and Perry soon finds herself—and her family—in the crosshairs of a ruthless killer. Despite her husband’s pleas for her to drop the case, Perry is determined to prevent Dels from becoming another statistic.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs the investigation deepens, Perry and Sophia follow a tangled web of clues that point to a close-to-home plot more chilling than they could have imagined. Torn between her family’s safety and her duty to her community, Perry must race against the clock, and across tribal Nations, to find Dels before her murderous abductor can carry out their sinister plan.“In \u003ci\u003eBlood Relay\u003c\/i\u003e, Choctaw Detective Perry Antelope investigates a carefully engineered crime that quickly ripples far beyond a single disappearance. With prose that’s both precise and unflinching, Devon Mihesuah delivers a harrowing and deeply necessary crime novel.”\u003cb\u003e—Cynthia Pelayo, Bram Stoker Award-winning author of \u003ci\u003eChildren of Chicago\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“[Devon Mihesuah’s] depiction of Native life is full of distinctive personalities who will hold readers’ attention, and her visceral fight scenes have a grittier, more lived-in edge than those in the average cop novel . . . a satisfying, deeply felt, and uncomfortably relevant crime story.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eDevon Mihesuah\u003c\/b\u003e is an enrolled citizen of the Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma and the Cora Lee Beers Price Professor in the Hall Center for the Humanities at the University of Kansas. A historian by training, she is a former editor of the \u003ci\u003eAmerican Indian Quarterly\u003c\/i\u003e and the author of numerous award-winning nonfiction and fiction works about Native history and culture\u003ci\u003e.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003e1\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen Perry Antelope and Sophia Burns entered the victim’s garage, a lanky female officer with false eyelashes and rosy pink blush stepped forward. “Detectives,” she greeted, passing them the logbook. “Sign in, please.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTarps covered the floor and two layers of painter’s plastic hung from the ceiling with duct tape, protecting the otherwise orderly garage. The man—­Perry checked her notes, Nathaniel McGee—­sat slumped in a camping chair, its drink holder clutching a Coke whose ice hadn’t yet melted. Perry and her husband, Troy, owned half a dozen of those chairs. Nathaniel sat on a blue one, the exact color Perry had chosen when she and Troy had taken the kids camping last weekend.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSophia sighed. “Suicide?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A regrettable resolution for a fixable problem,” Perry replied. “At least cleanup will be somewhat easy.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDespite the man’s efforts to ensure a tidy death, Perry saw what looked like raw hamburger on the garage ceiling lightbulb and on the painter’s plastic that gently undulated in the breeze. Blood droplets and other particles dotted the iPhone that lay on the garage floor six feet from the body.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSophia pushed her short, wavy hair behind her ears and exhaled.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You can step out for a minute,” Perry said quietly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen Sophia had been a patrol officer, she had seen a variety of grim injuries and corpses in various stages of decomposition, but Perry recalled that Sophia almost fainted at the first autopsy they attended together when they became partners six months ago. Sophia had turned white at the sight of their first call as a team—­a woman had been found decapitated. She had stared without blinking for a full minute at the headless torso. Perry thought the six-­foot, 175-pound former NCAA Division 1 shotput winner would falter, but after a minute, she was crouching over the woman for a closer look.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSophia took two more deep breaths, then pulled herself together. “I’m good. I’ve seen worse.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePerry patted her on the back.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA red Mercedes GLS SUV pulled up in front of the driveway, with 2 Shadows’s “Mad God” blasting so loud Perry could hear it through the car’s rolled-­up windows. Perry knew of the Goth band because of her daughter, Olyve. How the heck did the chief medical examiner know about them?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“How’re you, Melinda?” Perry asked when the woman finally reached them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Was about to have second dessert with Milt.” Melinda smirked. After cake, if you know what I mean.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePerry chuckled. “What do we have here?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You tell me.” Melinda gave the body a quick perusal. “Well. Did you inspect him?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I did,” Perry responded.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe two looked at each other, and Perry could tell Melinda was thinking the same thing she was.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Thoughtful prep work,” Perry said. She brushed away stray hairs that had come loose from her bun and stuck to the sweat on her face.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMelinda nodded in agreement. “This style of offing helps a bit. That suicide a few years ago—­you know, the woman who killed her fourteen cats then slit her wrists in the bathtub? The tub helped.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I do remember that.” Perry had been one of the first on the scene. Cleaning up the physical carnage was one thing—­a specialized cleaning service could deal with the tissue and stains. The survivors’s emotional chaos would take much longer. Now, through the kitchen door, she could hear the man’s wife wailing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“No suicide note,” Sophia said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe rest of the forensics team pulled up in a white van. The crime scene supervisor, Sarita Bianchi, emerged from the driver’s side, followed by her three colleagues carrying bags of various sizes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAfter the forensics team pulled on their gloves, Perry and Sophia rounded the corner of the house to find a distraught bald man standing with a trio of police officers. “I want to talk to him,” said Perry.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe bald man was dressed in loose-­fitting black Adidas running pants and a T-­shirt with a Gandalf figure wearing a robe and tall wizard hat and holding a football. The letters underneath read fantasy football. His head was down and he kept sniffing, like a man who was trying to hide the reality that he was crying. He refused a Kleenex.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe approached the sniffing man.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Hello,” she said. “I’m Detective Perry Antelope, Oklahoma City police. And your name?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe moved the bottom of her black blazer to the side so he could see her shield attached to her belt. Perry knew the man was upset, but he could cry later at home.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Jason Lyndon.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“What is your connection to the deceased?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe sensed rather than heard Sophia approach. The taller woman stood to her right, a step behind her. Perry did not acknowledge her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe handsome man let out a shaky breath. “I’m his attorney.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“How did you hear about his death?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“He contacted me.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePerry thought about that. If you were going to kill yourself, contacting your attorney would make sense if you had a will.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“May I see your phone?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Sure.” He scrolled to the message, then handed it to her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eJ—­I need you to make sure that Jahneen and the kids get everything. I have been depressed for some time now and don’t know what else to do. I trust you and thx. Nate.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Sir, do you mind if I take screenshots and send them to my phone?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“No. Go right ahead.” He shuffled his feet, and when he dropped his gaze, Perry glanced at Sophia and gave a quick nod toward him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhile Perry’s thumbs flew over the screen, Sophia asked him, “Do you come over here often?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Yeah, we do barbecues and the kids play. I’ve known Nate a long time.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePerry finished with his phone and handed it back. She asked, “What did you do after you got this message?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I immediately called the police. I had showered and was drying off when I got the text, so I read it, called the police, and hurried over.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe motioned to his bright red 2024 BMW iX xDrive50. Perry could not remember every car model, but she prided herself on knowing most of them. This one probably cost Jason close to ninety thousand dollars.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Where do you live?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Apple Valley.” The wealthy neighborhood was about fifteen minutes away. “I banged on the garage side door when I realized it was locked. Then I went to the front door. Was about to hop the fence when the police came and told me to stop. Then Jahneen and the kids drove up. I guess they were at their oldest kid’s soccer tournament. Jahneen opened the garage door with the remote.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSophia took out her phone.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJason watched her as he kept talking. “I ran in first and found him, so I was able to keep Jahneen and the kids away.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Good for you.” Perry knew that seeing their father in this state would permanently traumatize the children.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe rubbed his hands over his face. “What else was I supposed to do?” He cried loudly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe did not respond.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt seemed he expected an answer. He glared at Perry and clenched his fists. “It wasn’t my fault. Nate did it right after he texted me,” he said, his voice growing louder. “If I had known what he was going to do, I would have been here to stop it. I was \u003ci\u003enot\u003c\/i\u003e a part of this.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePerry stood straighter and twitched the fingers of her right hand. She felt the outline of her Glock in her holster. She glanced to Sophia, who also registered the man’s agitation.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJason took a few deep breaths, then leaned back on his car. “Okay. Okay. I’m okay,” he repeated.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“All right.” She kept her eyes on Jason. “How did you arrive here before the police?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe yard became silent. The only sounds were the muffled cries of Nathaniel’s wife and a dog barking in the distance.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“What do you mean?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Well, Mr. Lyndon, according to Google Maps, your home is a seventeen-­minute drive away from here. But the police station is right around the corner. It would take three minutes max for them to get here.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJason’s mouth stayed open but he said nothing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Answer the question.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Well, that can’t be right.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“There was no soccer tournament today, but there is one tomorrow,” Sophia added. She had assumed her ready stance—­legs apart and hands clasped in front of her. “I wonder why Mrs. McGee dressed up her son in a soccer uniform.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe other officers took a step closer.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJason Lyndon began to sweat.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePerry saw Melinda out of the corner of her left eye.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Mr. McGee has a head wound,” Perry said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Of course he does!” Jason yelped. “He shot himself.”","brand":"Bantam","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":48232989753573,"sku":"NP9780593983829","price":20.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780593983829.jpg?v=1767722802","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/blood-relay-isbn-9780593983829","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}