Fatal Game
Page 1
FATAL GAME
A JESS KIMBALL THRILLER
DIANE CAPRI
Presented by:
AugustBooks
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Praise for
New York Times and
USA Today Bestselling Author
Diane Capri
“Full of thrills and tension, but smart and human, too.
Kim Otto is a great, great character. I love her.”
Lee Child, #1 New York Times Bestselling Author of Jack Reacher Thrillers
“[A] welcome surprise….[W]orks from the first page to ‘The End’.”
Larry King
“Swift pacing and ongoing suspense are always present…[L]ikable protagonist who uses her political connections for a good cause…Readers should eagerly anticipate the next [book].”
Top Pick, Romantic Times
“…offers tense legal drama with courtroom overtones, twisty plot, and loads of Florida atmosphere. Recommended.”
Library Journal
“[A] fast-paced legal thriller…energetic prose…an appealing heroine…clever and capable supporting cast…[that will] keep readers waiting for the next [book].”
Publishers Weekly
“Expertise shines on every page.”
Margaret Maron, Edgar, Anthony, Agatha, and Macavity Award-Winning MWA Past President
Fatal Game is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Diane Capri and Nigel Blackwell
All Rights Reserved
Published by: AugustBooks
Visit the author websites:
DianeCapri.com
NigelBlackwell.com
License Notes:
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Publisher’s Note:
The publisher and author do not have any control over and do not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
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eISBN: 978-1-940768-64-9
Original Cover Design: Cory Clubb
Digital Formatting: Author E.M.S.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Reviews
Copyright
Dear Friends
Cast of Characters
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
About the Authors
Also by the Authors
Dear Friends,
Thank you for buying this copy of Fatal Game. I’m very excited to share this new Jess Kimball Thriller with you. Readers say Jess Kimball Thrillers are filled with “fast-paced, believable characters, taut action, and surprises all the way to the finish.” In all of these ways, Fatal Game will not disappoint!
It’s been fun to write this book with my friend Nigel Blackwell, too. The most frequent question I receive from Jess Kimball fans is “when will you write a new Jess Kimball book?” With Nigel’s help, I’m pleased to say the answer is very soon!
I’m always working on a new book. Please sign up for my mailing list to receive advance notice of new releases and lots of other exclusive stuff for members only. You can do that here: http://dianecapri.com/get-involved/get-my-newsletter/
While you’re waiting for a new Jess Kimball Thriller, please give my other books a try. I believe you’ll enjoy them. You can find a complete list of all my books here: http://dianecapri.com/books/
And please let me know what you think. I love hearing from you. You can write to me anytime, and I hope you will. I’d love to get to know you better, and you can always reach me here: http://dianecapri.com/get-involved/message/
Meanwhile, thanks so much for reading. Readers like you are the reason I feel it’s an honor and a privilege to write for you.
Caffeinate & Carry On!
FATAL GAME
BY
DIANE CAPRI
Presented By:
AugustBooks
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Jessica Kimball
Carter Pierce
Mandy Donovan
Thelma Baxter
Henry Morris
Donald Warner
Karen Warner
Roy Mercer
Hades
Cora
Simon Lawson
Melissa Green
CHAPTER ONE
Friday, May 12, 9:30 p.m.
Santa Irene, Arizona
Cora felt his eyes on her. She was the first woman who’d ever stood by Hades and he’d always done the same for her. The deep keloid scars on his face made him ugly to most women, but to Cora, they were proof of his fidelity.
Earlier today, at his brother’s funeral, she knew he’d felt a sliver of comfort, having her hand in his once again. Maybe his luck and hers were beginning to change.
When this job was over, they’d go away. Somewhere exotic, where neither had been before. Just the two of them. They’d have plenty of money. His brother would have approved, and that was the only motivation Hades craved right now. Cora nodded. Decision made.
Cora had worked hard, and she’d achieved the best physical condition of her life. Even in the moon’s cool blue aura, she felt beautiful. The line of her jaw, her neck, bountiful hair brushed back from her face. The curves of her figure, the delicacy of her fingers,
the tone of her muscles.
Many men had praised her beauty. But not Hades.
He didn’t have the words.
Nor would he have ever uttered them.
For he was no god. Nor she the daughter of Zeus.
She grinned. They weren’t even Greek.
They were pure Arizona low-class trailer trash, born and raised. And they were perfectly comfortable standing in this bus shelter, waiting for the right moment. For Benny.
Across the road was a lounge. It’s neon sign read ndy’s Bar, the A having long since disappeared.
The parking lot was stuffed with an assortment of old cars and older trucks. So they waited.
Trucks drove in. Cars left. People walked down the street and entered through the front door. Cora ignored them all.
After fifteen minutes, a white panel van pulled into the lot. Hades nodded toward the tired looking vehicle. “There it is.”
His voice was low and sexy, and she loved it.
“Yep,” Cora replied.
The choice was made. She knew what to do. Hades walked off. He trusted her. They’d rehearsed the plan countless times.
Cora watched as he turned to his right, and disappeared around the corner.
The van’s driver was finishing his paperwork before he finally called it a day.
Cora crossed the street and used the front entrance. Andy’s was a busy bar on Friday nights. No one paid the least attention to her. She eased around the edges of the room, squeezing between the patrons, to the rear door that led to the parking lot.
The wig curled in waves that spilled down onto her shoulders. She wore a trench coat over a red silk dress that shimmered as it touched every one of her curves. She had donned thick black eyelashes, and her vibrant wet-look red lipstick was pure seduction from a tube.
She stood by a window, a few feet from the rear door, and unbuttoned her coat to show off the dress and the sizzling body it revealed.
The driver stepped out of the van and shrugged into his jacket. He dropped the keys in his pocket as he walked to the door.
She waited until he was three paces away to move.
The driver pulled the heavy steel door open. His head was down. He swung his right foot over the threshold.
Cora kept her pace, reaching the threshold at the same moment, and walked through as if he’d been holding the door open for her. They met in the archway. She put her hands up, pressing them against his chest as she tried to squeeze through. The man jerked his head up while his eyes swept her body from heels to cleavage, where his gaze stopped.
She slid her right hand over his shoulder and giggled. He raised his chin and stared into her eyes. She blinked her thick eyelashes. A long, slow, deliberate movement.
He pushed himself back onto the doorframe. “I—”
She leaned forward. Her gaze locked on his. “Who said chivalry is dead?”
“Er—”
She pulled him to her and kissed his cheek. He didn’t back away. She slid her left hand over his thin nylon jacket. Her fingertips felt the flap that covered his pocket.
She kept her face close to his. Two cheeks just touching. She squeezed his shoulder with her right hand and lifted the pocket flap with her left.
He pulled away a fraction, and she pushed closer to him and wiggled her hips.
Her fingers wrapped around the metal key ring in his pocket. She tucked the keys into the palm of her hand, squeezing to quiet the rattle.
She eased her hand out of his pocket and leaned back. His mouth was slack. His hooded eyes were unfocused.
She giggled and blinked her big eyelashes. “Sorry.” She dropped her gaze a fraction. “I couldn’t resist.”
The man licked his lips. “Sorry. I—”
She turned away, and walked out of the bar, keeping her hand and his keys in front of her. She strode purposefully, opening her purse as if to search for her own keys. She heard the door thump shut as he went inside and she glanced back to be sure. She was prepared to deal with him if he followed. But he didn’t.
She kept moving, weaving through the vehicles, on her way to the panel van.
To avoid electronic bleeps, she used the mechanical key. She slipped into the driver’s seat and twisted the key in the ignition at the same time as she pulled on the seat belt.
She was rolling within seconds.
The rear of the parking lot led to a two-lane road. She feathered the accelerator as she crept out into the traffic, turning right for the freeway a half mile down.
The van was old, but the engine was strong. It was a workhorse, and had power and torque to spare. Perfect for their needs.
She entered the freeway. A line of eighteen-wheelers, doing a steady sixty-five miles an hour, kept her pinned to the inside lane. She slowed to let them pass before moving into the left lane to accelerate.
The freeway speed limit was sixty-five, but she pushed it to seventy-five to clear the trucks. She pulled into the middle lane, in front of the trucks, and slowed to their speed.
She glanced in the rearview mirror. Her heart skipped a beat. A black and white police cruiser was fifty yards behind, passing the convoy of trucks, gaining fast.
The cruiser was probably responding to a call miles away. But she couldn’t risk being stopped.
The next exit was half a mile. She eased into the slow lane and used the trucks to shield her from the cruiser’s view.
She’d take the next exit, spend a minute waiting at traffic lights, and rejoin the highway. The cruiser would be far gone by then.
She heard the whoop of a siren. “Dammit!”
She moved over to the right-hand exit lane. Behind her, the trucks separated, and the cruiser darted through the gap.
She weaved around a blue Nissan, keeping her speed up as she covered the off-ramp. The road narrowed again before the cruiser could pass.
“Damn driver.” He must have reported his van already. Bad luck. Nothing more.
She took the first right. A single lane street. She needed buildings for cover. There was no way she would outrun the pursuit. This one cruiser, perhaps, but he would be calling for assistance already. She had less than a minute to ditch the van and put a good deal of distance between her and the police officers chasing her.
She touched the brakes as she approached a four-way stop. Traffic was sparse. Two cars were stopped, waiting their turn. She took the opposite lane, passed the cars, and swung left at the four way.
The van’s wide tires chirped at the strain in the fast corner, but they held the line, catapulting her through the intersection and onto another single lane road.
She floored the accelerator. The engine’s rumble became a full-blown roar. The van’s rear end squatted down. The distance to the next intersection passed in a flash.
The cruiser was a good hundred yards behind her. Another few blocks and she would have enough distance to dump the van and run.
She weaved around a stationary car at the next four-way stop sign, and raced alongside a car crossing the intersection, pushing ahead. She swerved into the right lane, ahead of the car.
A police siren wailed. Close. She glanced in her mirror. The original cruiser was still behind at the last intersection, but a second cruiser must have been at the stop.
The second cruiser fishtailed a ninety-degree turn, and raced after her.
Her slight advantage was gone. She gripped the wheel harder and cussed every word she’d learned in that broken-down trailer park playground at the age of six. If these worthless donut eaters wanted to play, she would play.
She eased off the gas. The engine groaned as it slowed the van’s weight. The second cruiser gained and moved into the opposing lane to pass.
Cora stomped on the gas. The big engine growled as it dumped fuel into its cylinders. The rear wheels broke traction. She flipped the steering wheel right.
Both back tires slid sideways across the pavement. The heavy van smashed hard into the second cruiser’s front wheel. The officer braked
and turned his steering wheel.
But the van’s speed and force pushed the cruiser, and it whipped around, beyond human control. The cruiser’s rear smashed into a line of parked cars, bubbling over the hood of a mid-sized sedan, and smashing through a glass storefront. Pedestrians scattered, covering their heads to protect themselves from flying glass shards.
The second cruiser was permanently out of commission.
Cora eased off the gas. The van slithered back into a straight line as the tires regained their grip. The mayhem behind her slowed but did not stop the first cruiser.
She reached an area where the buildings were bigger and closer together. If she could gain enough distance, she could ditch the vehicle and blend in with the night crowds. She smiled. The odds were swinging in her favor. Her luck had improved.