"I'm not an addict," he scowled, still running his hands over the floor. "I can stop any time I want; I just don't want to yet."
~
Carrie Hart became Cara Parry for three reasons: to prove herself as an undercover detective; to bring justice to the people who killed Lucy Flynn; and to trial a life of letting go, with no consequence for her real self.
But under the intoxicating lights of Paradise Casino, lines are blurred and letting go becomes a question she had never thought to ask:
Who is the real Carrie Hart, and where do her loyalties truly lie?
"I'm not an addict," he scowled, still running his hands over the floor. "I can stop any time I want; I just don't want to yet."
~
Carrie Hart became Cara Parry for three reasons: to prove herself as an undercover detective; to bring justice to the people who killed Lucy Flynn; and to trial a life of letting go, with no consequence for her real self.
But under the intoxicating lights of Paradise Casino, lines are blurred and letting go becomes a question she had never thought to ask:
Who is the real Carrie Hart, and where do her loyalties truly lie?
04 January 2018
Nobody knew.
-
âListen to me,â David commanded. âTelling them now wonât do anyone any good; itâll just get us both in trouble.â
âBut why?â she questioned desperately. âThis is all my fault, not yours.â
âBecause I promised Iâd look after you,â he answered. âAnd because if you deny it enough you might forget it was ever true.â
âIt isnât true,â she insisted.
He smiled at her with a bittersweet fondness. âDonât bullshit.â
-
Carrie opened her eyes. The room was bright â too bright. It hurt her head. It hurt her whole body. She ached all over and felt physically sick. Something was incredibly wrong, but she couldnât remember what it was. She couldnât remember much at all. She had been in a room â a different room â with David Watts and Wendy Pullman. He meant a lot to her. There were others who did too, but she couldnât see their faces. Something told her she wanted red wine.
âCarolyn?â a voice sounded beside her. She knew that voice well. âCarrie?â
âFiona?â
She turned her head to see her sister sitting in a chair at her bedside. That was right; she had a sister. She looked older than she had the last time she saw her. The skin under her eyes was dark as if she hadnât slept, her hair pulled back into a rough ponytail. She wore a loose, plain shirt and there was no make-up on her face. She didnât look much like Fiona.
âIâm here,â the older woman took her hand. âMum and Dad are on their way; they caught the first flight they could.â
Yes, she recalled, their parents lived in Australia. She had parents. That wasnât the sort of thing a person should forget, even for a moment.
âFi,â she squinted against the brightness. âHave you got any wine? My head hurts.â
âYou canât have that anymore,â Fiona shuffled uncomfortably.
âRight,â Carrie shut her eyes again. The light was making her want to heave.
They sat in awkward silence for a while.
âCarrie,â Fiona said eventually. âWhere have you been?â
Carrie tried to remember.
âWhat happened to you?â she continued. âAll I know is you went undercover, then Iâm getting a call from WendyâŚPalmer or something, saying you posted something weird on your Instagram and they were fishing you from the Thames. I didnât know you even had an Instagram.â
âWendy Pullman,â she corrected her.
Wendy Pullman was important. But the case was over. Wendy Pullman had resigned the day after â the day after what? She remembered but she didnât. There was light streaming through the window. There was blood on the carpet. She remembered screaming and running and the feeling that there was nothing left. She just ran and ran and ran and then there was blackness. There was blackness for a very long time.
âYes, Pullman, thatâs it,â Fiona swallowed hard. âWhat happened? You disappeared for years, then you turn up pumped full of drugs in a river.â
Operation Bluebird happened. David had told her not to tell anyone, but she couldnât remember what it was she was supposed to not be telling. She could see his lips moving but couldnât hear the sound, like she was only half there.
âDid you do that?â Fiona sniffed. That was strange; Fiona didnât cry. âDid someone do it to you? Why didnât you ever call me⌠if you were in trouble-â
âAre you sure thereâs no wine?â Carrie groaned. She felt like death.
âThereâs no wine,â Fiona said firmly, wiping her eyes. âCarrie, can you please tell me whatâs going on? Wendy wouldnât say a thing.â
âI canât remember,â she told her, almost honestly.
What she could remember didnât make any sense. It was like a highly confidential case file with most of the information blotted out. It was like a movie she had only half been paying attention to while she had her nose down in her work â a movie where herself and David Watts were the stars. She saw the main occurrences as played out on a screen; glitz and glam and somebody elseâs emotions that you see but donât feel. They had been good cops â at least that was what Brian Hole had said. Her information had saved peopleâs lives.
But David had done something â or was it her? She had done something and he had told her never to tell. She was the only one who knew, and even she saw it through a veil, from a great distance away.
It hurt.
She didnât want to think about Operation Bluebird.
It's been over twelve hours since I finished this book, and part of my heart and brain are still living at the Paradise Casino with the Park family. Harry Old does a wonderful job of describing the glitzy lifestyle of a mafia family, while making you feel like you are actually living the high life with them while reading.
This book is a fast paced crime thriller, with feels of James Bond and The Great Gatsby sprinkled throughout the pages. Set in London, the reader gets pulled in to the dilemmas and conflicts with our main protagonist, Carrie. It is easy to get lost in the push and pulls that Carrie feels as she loses herself in her job.
Operation Bluebird checks a lot of boxes for me when it comes to a crime thriller novel: lust, love, conflict, criminals, and suspense. I loved how Harry Old creates a timeline with each chapter, sometimes jumping back and forth but never in a way that creates confusion. This set up created tension and questions for the reader that was wrapped up nicely at the end. I never once knew or predicted what was to come next -- this book is by no means predictable and I never once found myself getting bored or struggling to keep reading.
It takes a lot for me to have visible reactions to books, but this one I audibly gasped towards the end. The pacing of this book is quick, but it speeds up right at the end and it is absolutely a page turner.
My only wish is that Harry Old had given us a little more description of our main character; I was never quite sure what she looked like. But, I think that also gave me the opportunity to slip in to her character as myself while reading, which was also just a totally fun experience. Pick up Operation Bluebird if you are looking for a crime novel that will help you escape, you enjoy lusty romance scenes, and are a fan of the glitz and glam associated with Jay Gatsby. This book would be a great one to pick up and enjoy with a glass of red wine while unwinding at night.