Stone Cold
Page 25
Claire was right in one sense. She had done everything wrong. But she was right to have done it and she would use her second chance to do it again if she had to, even with Rossi watching and waiting for her to slip up. Only next time she’d do it Judge West’s way, in the courtroom, not with a gun.
Judge West opened the door from his chambers. They stood for a moment, reaching their own verdicts about each other.
“You’re welcome in my courtroom anytime, Counselor.”
“I look forward to it,” Alex said.
Bonnie had left as soon as the hearing concluded to bring her car around to the courthouse. She was standing outside her car waiting for Alex, who took her time going down the steps, enjoying how Bonnie’s grin grew longer and wider with every step she took. When they were within arm’s reach, Bonnie grabbed her and snatched her close, avoiding Alex’s broken nose, kissing her until Alex pulled back, breathless, her bruised and swollen lips throbbing. It was a good start.
“Save a little something for later,” she told Bonnie, smiling.
“Hey, it’s not every day that your girlfriend kills someone to protect you.”
“True love, babe. Let’s go home.”
THANKS
Thank you for adding Stone Cold to your library. This is an exciting time to be a writer and a reader because our shared experience is no longer limited to the written word. I look forward to connecting with you. You can find me….
On my website at www.joelgoldman.com
On my blog at www.joelgoldman.com/blog
On Twitter at www.twitter.com/joelgoldman1
On Facebook at www.facebook.com/joelgoldmanauthor
On Amazon at www.amazon.com/author/joelgoldman
On YouTube at www.youtube.com/user/joelgoldmanwriter
On Pinterest at www.pinterest.com/joelgoldman
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A number of people were instrumental in creating Stone Cold. Carie Allen is an outstanding Public Defender who patiently answered all my questions about criminal law and procedure. Any mistakes on these matters are all mine.
My editor, Kristen Weber, www.kristenweber.com, and my copyeditor, Eileen Chetti, chetti@optimum.net, gave me invaluable feedback and advice and made Stone Cold a better book.
Jeroen ten Berge, www.jeroentenberge.com, continues to create the best book covers in the business.
Thanks to Jason Chatraw who did a great job formatting the book for the Kindle. You can find him at www.GreenE-Books.com. And, thanks to Ross Burck for his terrific work formatting the print edition. You can find Ross at rossburck@yahoo.com.
And thanks to all the people who read Advance Reader Copies and shared their feedback with me.
And, finally, thanks to all the baristas at my Starbuck’s office for always keeping a pot of coffee on for me.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Joel Goldman is the author of the Edgar and Shamus nominated Lou Mason Thrillers, the Jack Davis Thrillers and the Alex Stone Thrillers. He lives with his wife and two dogs in Leawood, KS. He was a trial lawyer for twenty-eight years. He wrote his first thriller after one of his partners complained about another partner, prompting him to write a mystery, kill the son-of-a-bitch off in the first chapter and spend the rest of the book figuring out who did it. And he never looked back.
NOVELS & SHORT STORIES
BY JOEL GOLDMAN
THE LOU MASON THRILLERS
Motion to Kill
The Last Witness
The Cold Truth
Deadlocked
Final Judgment
THE JACK DAVIS THRILLERS
Shakedown
The Dead Man
No Way Out
THE ALEX STONE THRILLERS
Stone Cold
THE DEAD MAN SERIES BY WILLIAM RABKIN & LEE GOLDBERG
Freaks Must Die
SHORT STORIES
Fire In The Sky
Knife Fight
Motion to Kill
Lee Child and Michael Connelly recommend Motion To Kill! If you like the action, suspense and excitement in their books, you’ll love Motion To Kill!
“The story line never skips a beat. Fans will set in motion a plea for Mr. Goldman to return with more Mason (Lou not Perry) legal thrillers.”
Harriett Klausner
“Lou Mason is the sexy, brilliant but flawed counselor who is thrown into chaos and finds order. The plot leads you to the edge like the thrilling Yungas cliff road in Bolivia.”
Elizabeth Wenig
When two of his partners are killed, corruption, sex and murder fill trial lawyer Lou Mason’s docket as he tracks the killer. Will Lou be the next victim? Find out in Motion To Kill, the action-packed, can’t-put-it-down first book in the Lou Mason Thriller series!
“Joel Goldman is the real deal!”
John Lescroart, NYT Bestselling Author
“A real page-turner with plenty of action and many surprising twists and turns along the way driven by the wise-cracking protagonist and a great supporting cast.”
David A. Berman
“The plot races forward.”
Amarillo Globe-News
The Last Witness
If you love the twist, turns and suspense of John Grisham, you’ll love The Last Witness!
“Fast, furious and thoroughly enjoyable, The Last Witness is classic and classy noir for our time, filled with great characters and sharp, stylish writing.”
Jeffery Deaver, NYT Bestsellling Author
“The Last Witness is an old fashioned, ‘40’s, tough guy detective story set in modern times. There’s a lot of action, loads of suspects and plenty of snappy dialogue. It’s a fun read from beginning to end.”
Phillip Margolin, author of The Associate and Wild Justice
Lou Mason is back and this time it’s personal when his surrogate father, Homicide Detective Harry Ryman, arrests his best friend, Wilson “Blues” Bluestone, Jr. for murder. Mason unearths secrets someone will do anything to keep as he closes in on a desperate killer, setting himself up as the next target. Goldman goes Grisham one better!
“Joel Goldman has written another fast-paced legal thriller. Find a comfortable chair and plan to stay up late.”
Sheldon Siegel, author of The Special Circumstances and Criminal Intent
“The Last Witness is a legal thriller written the way criminal law should be practiced: from the gut…one of the premier crime novels of the year.”
Jeremiah Healy, author of Turnabout and Spiral
Move over John Grisham! Joel Goldman is in the courthouse!
Shakedown
If you like the knockout suspense of Michael Connelly and the gritty “who done its” by Linda Fairstein, you’ll love Joel Goldman’s Shakedown!
“Goldman tells a story at a breakneck pace…”
Kansas City Star
“A killer identified via a fleeting facial expression and behavioral cues turns a middle-agend FBI agent dealing with a disruptive disability into an unexpected hero in Goldman’s latest terrific thriller.”
Publisher’s Weekly
When FBI Agent Jack Davis investigates a mass murder, a leak of crucial information and his imploding personal life throw him into the ultimate danger zone – where truth lies at the heart of betrayal.
Need a thrill pill? Take Shakedown and stay up all night!
“Shakedown is a really fine novel. Joel Goldman has got it locked and loaded and full of the blood of character and the gritty details that make up the truth. Page for page, I loved it.”
Michael Connelly, NYT Bestselling Author
“Shakedown is a chillingly realistic crime novel – it’s fast-paced, smartly plotted, and a gripping read to the very last page. Joel Goldman explores – with an insider’s eye – a dark tale of murder and betrayal.”
Linda Fairstein, NYT Bestselling Author
James Patterson fan’s - take off on a rocket-fueled suspense ride with Shakedown, the first book in the Jack Davis Thriller series by Joel Goldman.
If you like John Grisham’s twists and turns and James Patterson’s page-turning thrills, you’ll love Joel Goldman’s The Dead Man, the second book in the Jack Davis Thriller series!
“A masterful blend of rock-solid detective work and escalating dread. The Dead Man is both a top-notch thriller and a heart-rending story of loss, courage and second chances. I loved it.”
Robert Crais, NYT Best Selling Author
“The Dead Man is one of those rare novels you will be tempted to read twice: the first time to enjoy, and the second to appreciate how Goldman puts the pieces together. The hours spent on both will be more than worth it.”
Joe Hartlaub, Bookreporter.com
When people in a study of the human brain start to die exactly as they have dreamed they would die, Jack Davis crosses paths with a serial killer, taking him onto both sides of the law and into the path of a murderer’s terrifying rage.
Think John Grisham meets James Patterson and you’ve got Joel Goldman in The Dead Man!
“Goldman’s realistic setting, fast-paced dialogue and chilling plotting will have you wanting to read more in this gritty suspense series.”
Cindy Bauer, bookpleasures.com
“The Dead Man has all the plots and twists one may expect from a Grisham novel and the pace of a James Patterson crime story.”
Carolyn LeComte, Curledup.com
It doesn’t get any better than that, so grab The Dead Man and don’t let go!
Copyright © 2012 by Joel Goldman
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead) or events is entirely coincidental.
If you’ve enjoyed this Alex Stone novel, check out this excerpt from the bestselling Charlie Fox crime thriller series by Zoë Sharp.
DIE EASY: Charlie Fox book ten
by Zoë Sharp
In the sweating heat of Louisana, former Special Forces soldier turned bodyguard, Charlie Fox, faces her toughest challenge yet.
“ADDICTIVE READING.”
―Chicago Tribune
Professionally, Charlie’s at the top of her game, but her personal life is in ruins. Her lover, bodyguard Sean Meyer, has woken from a gunshot-induced coma with his memory in tatters.
“CHECK OUT CHARLIE FOX―SHE’S THE REAL DEAL.”
―Lee Child
Working with Sean again was never going to be easy, but a celebrity fundraising event in post-Katrina New Orleans should have been the ideal opportunity for them both to take things nice and slow. Until, that is, they find themselves thrust into the middle of a war zone.
“SHARP MEANS BUSINESS.”
―New York Times
When an ambitious robbery explodes into a deadly hostage situation, the motive may be far more complex than simple greed. Somebody has a major score to settle and Sean is part of the reason.
Only trouble is, he doesn’t remember why.
“BREATHLESSLY COMPELLING AND UTTERLY REAL”
―Jeffery Deaver
And when Charlie finds herself facing a nightmare from her own past, she realises she can’t rely on Sean to watch her back. This time, she’s got to fight it out on her own …
www.ZoeSharp.com
DIE EASY: Charlie Fox Book Ten
One
EVEN ON A GOOD DAY I don’t enjoy being shot at. Been there, done that, and it bloody hurts.
I wasn’t kidding myself this was going to be a good day.
Maybe that had something to do with the fact that my gun hand—my right wrist—was securely handcuffed to a reinforced briefcase weighing probably twenty-five pounds.
That in itself wouldn’t have been so bad. I’d put in enough time on the range to be proficient with either hand. My left wrist, however, was just as firmly handcuffed to Sean Meyer’s right. Neither of us was exactly overjoyed by this state of affairs.
Especially when everything was about to go to shit around us.
We were on a quiet street of generic storefronts, parked cars dotted along either side. There were people nearby but nobody gave us a second glance.
And then, just when the tension began to give me heartburn, half a dozen rapid shots cracked out further down the street. I was half expecting them, but still they startled me. I forced out a strangled yelp, even though I knew they were scare shots, fired from a single weapon rather than part of an exchange, designed purely to start a stampede.
They got the job done.
Sean wheeled and I had to swing fast to stay with him. His eyes were everywhere. He’d already drawn the Glock 17 semiautomatic, hefted it in his left hand, but he stayed on his feet, upright, alert.
Next to him, useless as a stuffed lemon chained to that damn case, I felt helplessly exposed. I willed myself calm, knowing I had to rely on Sean to protect me—to protect both of us.
People started to stream past us. Some screaming, some shouting—unintelligible words filled with a contagious panic. I tugged deliberately at his arm.
“Sean! We need to get out of here—”
“Shut up.”
It was the vicious tone more than the words that shocked me into silence. As we turned, I caught a glimpse of figures crossing between the buildings. They were dressed in jeans and loose shirts like the rest of the crowd. Unlike everybody else, though, they moved with direction and purpose, and they were armed.
I didn’t speak, didn’t distract Sean, but by the way he tensed I knew he’d seen them, too.
His brows were drawn down flat in concentration, making his harsh face seem colder than usual. Cold enough to make me shiver.
He muscled me sideways effortlessly, snatching roughly at the cuffs so that it jarred my whole arm. I should have been protesting at this point, but I said nothing. It took willpower to remain passive.
Sean went down on one knee, pulled me down with him, using an old parked Chevy for cover. We stayed up by the front wheel where the engine block provided more of a shield.
More people sprinted by. A man tripped and went sprawling right behind us. Sean ignored him. He had the gun up in front of him, head tilted to best utilize his dominant eye.
A target broke cover, dodging through the remnants of the fleeing people. Sean fired on him without hesitation, four fast shots that somehow threaded through the crowd, tracked and hit. He went down.
Before the first man finished falling another had appeared, jinking between parked cars on the opposite side of the street. He had a machine pistol held at waist-level, and he strafed us as he ran. Sean held his nerve, his position and his aim, taking only two rounds to drop him.
The third and fourth assailants came in together from oblique angles, taking advantage of any tunneling in Sean’s focus. Sean twisted, forgetting about my dead weight on the end of his right arm. He growled in frustration as his first shots went wide, taking an extra fraction of a second he barely had time for.
His breath hissed out as he swung his arm over the top of me and fired again, so close I felt the gases blast past my cheek, heard the brutal snap of the report clatter in my ears. The hot dead brass spun out and scattered around me. One casing hit the side of my neck, burning the skin. Instinct told me to stay on my feet. Instead I dropped flat, trying to get my hands over my head. Not easy with unwieldy objects attached to both arms.
Then I heard the Glock’s action lock back empty.
I hadn’t been counting the rounds, but I couldn’t believe Sean let the gun run dry in these circumstances.
I raised my head, my locked-together fingers hampering his reload. Sean hit the release to drop the magazine and shoved the Glock, butt upwards, into the vee at the back of his bent leg. He snatched the spare mag out of his belt and slapped it home wit
h the palm of his hand, then pulled the gun free and flicked the slide release awkwardly to snap the first round up into the chamber.
The whole operation had taken maybe a couple of seconds, left-handed, smooth and without a slip, but he was staring at me as if I’d just tried to get him killed.
As if I wanted him dead …
“Come on—up!” he commanded, almost wrenching my arm out of its socket as he dragged me upright. The briefcase dangled painfully from the short cuff chain, gouging at my right wrist. I groped for the case’s handle, stumbling as we fell back into the mouth of an alley.
The expanding slap of a long gun rebounded between the brick buildings, and then they came at us thick and fast, half a dozen armed men, experienced pros, motivated, confident.
It was always going to be a no-win situation.
Sean went to the wall that allowed him to keep his left hand free, facing outwards, elbowing me round behind him. He fired at anything that showed itself past the edge of the scarred brickwork, dialed in now, emotions buttoned down tight.
And this time he dropped the magazine out before the last round was fired, keeping the Glock’s working parts in play. He shoved the gun into his belt to reach for a reload.
I stayed close up behind him—I had no other choice. But I had my face slightly turned towards the back of the alley, and for this reason I saw a door open halfway back, a man emerge with a gun in his right fist. He was tall, rangy, his arms already raised to firing position, and he was smiling.