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Theodore Boone is back in a new adventure and the stakes are higher than ever.When his best friend April disappears from her bedroom in the middle of the night, no one, not even Theo Boone—who knows April better than anyone—has answers. As fear ripples through his small hometown and the police hit dead ends, it's up to Theo to use his legal knowledge and investigative skills to chase down the truth and save his best friend.Filled with the page-turning suspense that made John Grisham a #1 international bestseller and the undisputed master of the legal thriller, Theodore Boone's trials and triumphs will keep readers guessing until the very end.

Author Biography

John Grisham is the author of a collection of stories, a work of nonfiction, three sports novels, four kids' books, and many legal thrillers. His work has been translated into forty-two languages. He lives near Charlottesville, Virginia.

Review

Raves for the Theodore Boone series

- "Smartly written." --USA Today
- "Edge-of-your-seat drama, sophisticated plotting, and plenty of spunk." --Chicago Sun-Times
- "Classic Grisham." --The Los Angeles Times
- "Not since Nancy Drew has a nosy, crime-obsessed kid been so hard to resist." --The New York Times
- "Gripping . . . I would recommend this book to anyone who loves a good mystery. I think everyone will be enthralled by Theodore Boone." --Scholastic News

Review Quote

Raves for the Theodore Boone series - "Smartly written." -- USA Today - "Edge-of-your-seat drama, sophisticated plotting, and plenty of spunk." -- Chicago Sun-Times - "Classic Grisham." -- The Los Angeles Times - "Not since Nancy Drew has a nosy, crime-obsessed kid been so hard to resist." -- The New York Times - "Gripping . . . I would recommend this book to anyone who loves a good mystery. I think everyone will be enthralled by Theodore Boone ." -- Scholastic News

Excerpt from Book

Chapter 1 The abduction of April Finnemore took place in the dead of night, sometime between 9:15 p.m., when she last spoke with Theo Boone, and 3:30 a.m., when her mother entered her bedroom and realized she was gone. The abduction appeared to have been rushed; whoever took April did not allow her to gather her things. Her laptop was left behind. Though her bedroom was fairly neat, there was some clothing strewn about, which made it difficult to determine if she had been able to pack. Probably not, the police thought. Her toothbrush was still by the sink. Her backpack was by her bed. Her pajamas were on the floor, so she at least had been allowed to change. Her mother, when she wasn''t crying or ranting, told the police that her daughter''s favorite blue-and-white sweater was not in the closet. And April''s favorite sneakers were gone, too. The police soon dismissed the notion that she''d simply run away. There was no reason to run away, her mother assured them, and she had not packed the things that would make such an escape successful. A quick inspection of the home revealed no apparent break-in. The windows were all closed and locked, as were the three doors downstairs. Whoever took April was careful enough to close the door behind them, and lock it on the way out. After observing the scene and listening to Mrs. Finnemore for about an hour, the police decided to have a talk with Theo Boone. He was, after all, April''s best friend, and they usually chatted by phone or online at night before going to sleep. At the Boone home, the phone rang at 4:33, according to the digital clock next to the bed where the parents slept. Mr. Woods Boone, the lighter sleeper, grabbed the phone, while Mrs. Marcella Boone rolled over and began wondering who would call at such an hour. When Mr. Boone said, "Yes, Officer," Mrs. Boone really woke up and scrambled out of bed. She listened to his end of the conversation, soon understood that it had something to do with April Finnemore, and was really confused when her husband said, "Sure, Officer, we can be over there in fifteen minutes." He hung up, and she said, "What is it, Woods?" "Apparently, April''s been abducted, and the police would like to talk to Theo." "I doubt if he abducted her." "Well, if he''s not upstairs in his room, we may have a problem." He was upstairs in his room, sound asleep, undisturbed by the ringing of the phone. As he threw on blue jeans and a sweatshirt, he explained to his parents that he had called April the night before on his cell phone and they''d chatted for a few minutes, same as usual. As they drove through Strattenburg in the predawn darkness, Theo could think of nothing but April and of her miserable home life, her warring parents, her scarred brother and sister, both of whom had fled as soon as they were old enough. April was the youngest of three children born to two people who had no business having a family. Both parents were crazy, according to April herself, and Theo certainly agreed. Both had drug convictions. Her mother kept goats on a small farm outside of town and made cheese, bad cheese in Theo''s opinion. She peddled it around town in an old funeral hearse painted yellow, with a pet spider monkey riding shotgun. Her father was an aging hippie, who still played in a bad garage band with a bunch of other leftovers from the 1980s. He had no real job and was often gone for weeks. The Finnemores were in a perpetual state of separation, with talk of divorce always in the air. April confided in Theo, and told him things he vowed to never repeat. The Finnemore home was owned by someone else, a rental house April hated because her parents had no interest in maintaining it. It was in an older section of Strattenburg, on a shady street lined with other postwar homes that had seen better days. Theo had been there only one time, for a less-than-successful birthday party April''s mother had thrown together two years earlier. Most of the kids who''d been invited did not attend because their parents wouldn''t allow it. Such was the Finnemore family reputation. There were two police cars in the driveway when the Boones arrived. Across the street, the neighbors were on their porches, watching. Mrs. Finnemore--she went by the name of May and had named her children April, March, and August--was in the living room on a sofa talking to a uniformed officer when the Boones entered, rather awkwardly. Quick introductions were made; Mr. Boone had never met her. "Theo!" Mrs. Finnemore said, very dramatically. "Someone has taken our April!" Then she burst into tears and reached to hug Theo. He wanted no part of being hugged but went along with the ritual out of respect. As always, she wore a large flowing garment that was more of a tent than a dress, light brown in color and made from what appeared to be burlap. Her long graying hair was pulled into a tight ponytail. Crazy as she was, Theo had always been struck by her beauty. She made no effort at being attractive--quite unlike his mother--but some things you can''t hide. She was also very creative, liked to paint and do pottery, in addition to making goat cheese. April had inherited the good genes--the pretty eyes, the artistic flair. When Mrs. Finnemore settled down, Mrs. Boone asked the officer, "What happened?" He responded with a quick summary of what little they knew at that point. "Did you talk to her last night?" the officer asked Theo. The cop''s name was Bolick, Sergeant Bolick, which Theo knew because he''d seen him around the courthouse. Theo knew most of the policemen in Strattenburg, as well as most of the lawyers, judges, janitors, and clerks in the courthouse. "Yes, sir. At nine fifteen, according to my phone log. We talk almost every night before going to bed," Theo said. Bolick had the reputation of being a wise guy. Theo wasn''t prepared to like him. "How sweet. Did she say anything that might be useful here? Was she worried? Scared?" Theo was immediately caught in a vise. He could not lie to a police officer, yet he could not tell a secret that he''d promised he wouldn''t tell. So he fudged a bit by saying, "I don''t recall anything like that." Mrs. Finnemore was no longer crying; she was staring intensely at Theo, her eyes glowing. "What did you talk about?" Sergeant Bolick asked. A detective in plainclothes entered the room and listened carefully. "The usual stuff. School, homework, I don''t remember everything." Theo had watched enough trials to know that answers should often be kept vague, and that "I don''t recall" and "I don''t remember" were perfectly acceptable in many instances. "Did you chat online?" the detective asked. "No, sir, not last night. Just phone." They often used Facebook and text messages, but Theo knew not to volunteer information. Just answer the question in front of you. He''d heard his mother say this to her clients many times. "Any sign of a break-in?" Mr. Boone asked. "None," said Bolick. "Mrs. Finnemore was sound asleep in the downstairs bedroom, she heard nothing, and at some point she got up to check on April. That''s when she realized she was gone." Theo looked at Mrs. Finnemore, who again shot him a fierce look. He knew the truth, and she knew he knew the truth. Trouble was, Theo couldn''t tell the truth because he''d made a promise to April. The truth was that Mrs. Finnemore had not been home for the past two nights. April had been living alone, terrified, with all the doors and windows locked as tightly as possib≤ with a chair jammed against her bedroom do∨ with an old baseball bat across the end of her bed; with the phone close and ready to dial 911, and with no one in the world to talk to but Theodore Boone, who had vowed not to tell a soul. Her father was out of town with his band. Her mother was taking pills and losing her mind. "In the past few days, has April said anything about running away?" the detective was asking Theo. Oh, yes. Nonstop. She wants to run away to Paris and study art. She wants to run away to LA and live with March, her older sister. She wants to run away to Santa Fe and become a painter. She wants to run away, period. "I don''t recall anything like that," Theo said, and it was the truth because "in the past few days" could mean almost anything; thus, the question was too vague to require a definite answer on his part. He had seen this time and time again in trials. In his opinion, Sergeant Bolick and the detective were being far too sloppy with their questions. So far, they had not been able to pin him down, and he had not told a lie. May Finnemore was overcome with tears and made a big show out of crying. Bolick and the detective quizzed Theo about April''s other friends, any potential problems she was having, how she was doing in school, and so on. Theo gave straight answers, with no wasted words. A female officer in uniform had entered the den from upstairs, and she sat with Mrs. Finnemore, who was again distraught and overcome. Sergeant Bolick nodded at the Boones and motioned for them to follow him into the kitchen. They did, and the detective joined them. Bolick glared at Theo and in a low voice said, "Did the girl ever mention a relative in prison in California?" "No, sir," Theo said. "Are you sure?" "Sure I''m sure." "What''s this all about?" Mrs. Boone jumped in. She was not about to stand by silently while her son was rudely interrogated. Mr. Boone was ready to pounce, too. The detective pulled out an 8" x 10" black-and-white photo, a mug shot of a shady-looking character who gave every indication of being a veteran criminal. Bolick went on, "Guy''s name is Jack Leeper, a ten-time loser. Distant cousin to May Finnemore, even more distant to Ap

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