I again had the pleasure of partnering with Goddess Fish Promotions for a book review of You Kill Me by Holly LeRoy. I, as much as the next person love a good “police solving a crime” book and this one did not disappoint.
Eve Sharpe is a Lieutenant for the Chicago Police Department. During her time on the force she has been known for her toughness. While investigating a case, Eve takes a lot of hits that begin to make her second guess her toughness and that also make her lose her edge. With her career crashing down around her, Eve begins to wonder if the press and politicians are right…that she is a cold blooded killer or if she is just losing her mind. As Eve is put on administrative leave, she continues to wonder if this is an officer involved shooting that was a “good shoot” gone wrong and therefore an honest mistake or if it is something much more terrible.
I must say, Holly LeRoy did not disappoint with this book!! From page 1, I was hooked!! Holly LeRoy wrote a suspenseful, intriguing book with surprises at every turn. For me, I never knew what was going to happen in the story or to Eve next! This book really kept me guessing! This book was full of excitement and suspense which kept me on my toes throughout the pages. While Eve is a fictional character, the way Holly LeRoy wrote about her really made me feel for her and with every blow that she took, I felt I was taking the blow with her. I questioned her sanity with her. I felt her disappointment and her frustration. And I was really mad, with Eve, at all the people who knew her for so long and did not believe in her as a cop. I must say I was really angry for Eve throughout most of the book! Overall I really enjoyed this book and can’t wait to pick up another book about Eve Sharp!!
It only took a couple of minutes to get to the scene. The Chicago Grand Hotel sat half a block from the Mag Mile near the museum. Built in the 1890’s it was restored in 2001, covered in glitzy looking polished brass and white marble. Even though it usually gleamed in the daytime, the sleet sweeping in off the lake made it looked gray and blocky, more like a Soviet prison. In front, a garish, fully involved crime scene revealed itself in stark contrast. Flashing blue lights, yellow tape, a couple of cruisers. Uniforms directing traffic. Battery operated lights blasted through the snow swirls, lighting up the scene like a movie set.
I headed over to the body while Walt went to talk to the first on the scene. The ME, a photographer, and a tech crouched over the dead girl while a couple of other uniforms erected a blue plastic tent in an effort to shelter the body from gawkers. I touched the ME on the shoulder and Harold Slezak glanced up at me. “One of yours?” he said and turned the girl’s face to the light.
I knelt and felt my stomach lurch as I looked down. A deep, bloody skull depression on her forehead, her arms were twisted around the wrong way and zip-tied at the wrist. Yellow bile stained her pink sweatshirt.
“Yes. It’s Debi Miller.”
Her blue eyes open, flecks of snow had begun to stick to her face. She was already starting to freeze.