THE INSPIRATION FOR THE CBS ORIGINAL SERIES TRACKER “The master of ticking-bomb suspense” ( People ) returns with a devilishly good thriller, and reward seeker Colter Shaw's most personal case to date. Just hours after the harrowing events of The Never Game and The Goodbye Man , Colter Shaw finds himself in San Francisco, where he has taken on the mission his father began years ago: finding a missing courier bag containing evidence that will bring down a corporate espionage firm responsible for hundreds, perhaps thousands, of deaths. Following the enigmatic clues his father left behind, Shaw plays cat and mouse with the company's sadistic enforcers, as he speeds from one gritty neighborhood in the City by the Bay to another. Suddenly, the job takes on a frightening urgency: Only by finding the courier bag can he expose the company and stop the murder of an entire family—slated to die in forty-eight hours. With the help of an unexpected figure from his past, and with the enforcers closing the net, Shaw narrows in on the truth—and learns that the courier bag contains something unexpected: a secret that could only be described as catastrophic. Filled with dozens of twists and reversals, The Final Twist is a nonstop race against time to save the family...and to keep the devastating secret Shaw has uncovered from falling into the wrong hands. “Jeffery Deaver’s action-packed ‘The Final Twist’ is a nail-biter… [it] begs for another visit with Colter.”— South Florida Sun-Sentinel “Jeffery Deaver’s The Final Twist lives up to its name admirably, even delivering said twist on the very last page of the book.” — BookPage (Starred Review) “…[The Final Twist] is clearly the best of the series so far.” — Booklist Jeffery Deaver is the #1 international bestselling author of more than forty novels, three collections of short stories, and a nonfiction law book. His books are sold in 150 countries and translated into 25 languages. His first novel featuring Lincoln Rhyme , The Bone Collector , was made into a major motion picture starring Denzel Washington and Angelina Jolie. He's received or been shortlisted for a number of awards around the world, including Novel of the Year by the International Thriller Writers and the Steel Dagger from the Crime Writers' Association in the United Kingdom. In 2014, he was the recipient of three lifetime achievement awards. A former journalist, folksinger, and attorney, he was born outside of Chicago and has a bachelor of journalism degree from the University of Missouri and a law degree from Fordham University. 1   The safe house.   At last.   Colter Shaw's journey to this cornflower-blue Victorian on scruffy Alvarez Street in the Mission District of San Francisco had taken him weeks. From Silicon Valley to the Sierra Nevadas in eastern California to Washington State. Or, as he sat on his Yamaha motorcycle, looking up at the structure, he reflected: in a way, it had taken him most of his life.   As often is the case when one arrives at a long-anticipated destination, the structure seemed modest, ordinary, unimposing. Though if it contained what Shaw hoped, it would prove to be just the opposite: a mine of information that could save hundreds, perhaps thousands, of lives.   But as the son of a survivalist, Shaw had a preliminary question: Just how safe a safe house was it?   From this angle, it appeared deserted, dark. He dropped the transmission in gear and drove to the alley that ran behind the house, where he paused again, in front of an overgrown garden, encircled by a gothic wrought-iron fence. From here, still no lights, no signs of habitation, no motion. He gunned the engine and returned to the front. He skidded to a stop and low-gear muscled the bike onto the sidewalk.   He snagged his heavy backpack, chained up the bike and helmet, then pushed through the three-foot-deep planting bed that bordered the front. Behind a boxwood he found the circuit breakers for the main line. If there were an unlikely bomb inside it would probably be hardwired; whether it was phones or computers or improvised explosive devices, it was always tricky to depend on batteries.   Using the keys he'd been bequeathed, he unlocked and pushed open the door, hand near his weapon. He was greeted only with white noise and the scent of lavender air freshener.   Before he searched for the documents he hoped his father had left, he needed to clear the place.   No evidence of threat isn't synonymous with no threat.   He scanned the ground floor. Beyond the living room was a parlor, from which a stairway led upstairs. Past that room was a dining room and, in the back, a kitchen, whose door, reinforced and windowless, led onto the alleyway. Another door in the kitchen led to the cellar, an unusual feature in much of California. The few pieces of furniture were functional and mismatched. The walls were the color of old bone, curtains sun-bleached to inadvertent tie-dye patterns.   He took his time exam