J.A. Jance - Fatal Error

ALSO BY J.A. JANCE

A LI R EYNOLDS M YSTERIES

Edge of Evil
Web of Evil
Hand of Evil
Cruel Intent
Trial by Fire

J OANNA B RADY M YSTERIES

Desert Heat
Tombstone Courage
Shoot/Dont Shoot
Dead to Rights
Skeleton Canyon
Rattlesnake Crossing
Outlaw Mountain
Devils Claw
Paradise Lost
Partner in Crime
Exit Wounds
Dead Wrong
Damage Control
Fire and Ice

J. P. B EAUMONT M YSTERIES

Until Proven Guilty
Injustice for All
Trial by Fury
Taking the Fifth
Improbable Cause
A More Perfect Union
Dismissed with Prejudice
Minor in Possession
Payment in Kind
Without Due Process
Failure to Appear
Lying in Wait
Name Withheld
Breach of Duty
Birds of Prey
Partner in Crime
Long Time Gone
Justice Denied
Fire and Ice

A ND

Hour of the Hunter
Kiss of the Bees
Day of the Dead
Queen of the Night

P OETRY

After the Fire

Touchstone
A Division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
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New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2011 by J.A. Jance

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Touchstone Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.

First Touchstone hardcover edition February 2011

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Designed by Akasha Archer

Manufactured in the United States of America

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Jance, Judith A.

Fatal error : a mystery / J. A. Jance.

p. cm.

A Touchstone book.

1. Reynolds, Ali (Fictitious character)Fiction. 2. Police recruitsFiction.

3. ArizonaFiction. I. Title.

PS3560.A44F56 2011

813.54dc22

2010025091

ISBN 978-1-4165-6381-5

ISBN 978-1-4165-6389-1 (ebook)

For Pat S.

FATAL
ERROR

G et on the ground, Ali Reynolds ordered. On the ground now!

Make me, Jose Reyes said, glaring back at her with a withering sneer. Try and make me, bitch.

Jose Reyes was a stocky Hispanic guy in his early thirties, tough as nails, with the muscle tone of a serious weight lifter. A guy with attitude, one who could toss out schoolyard taunts and make them sound deadly.

I gave you an order.

And I told you to go to hell.

Ali moved in then, grabbing his arm and setting up for the hip toss. Only it didnt work the way it was supposed to. Jose spun out of the way and suddenly Ali was the one flying through the air. She landed hard on the gym mat and with him right on top of her. The blow knocked the wind out of her and left her seeing stars. By the time Ali got her breath back, she was face down on the floor, with her wrists at her back, imprisoned in her own handcuffs. Lying there under Joses full weight, she felt a rage of impotent fury flood through her. She was still there, helpless but furious, when a pair of highly polished shoes appeared in her line of vision.

My, my, little lady, Sergeant Bill Pettit said. I dont believe thats the way takedowns are supposed to work. Hes the one whos supposed to be wearing your handcuffs.

Ali Reynolds was in week four of a six-week-long course at the Arizona Police Academy. Of all the instructors there, Pettit was her hands-down least favorite. The class had started out on the fourth of August with an enrollment of one hundred seven recruits, five of whom had been women. Now they were down to a total of seventy-nine. Two of the original females had dropped out.

Uncuff her, Pettit told Jose. Good job.

The restraints came off. Jose tossed them to her, then he grabbed Ali by the elbow and helped her up.

No hard feelings, Oma, he said with a sly Cheshire grin that said he was lying. He had done it with malice and had hit her far harder than necessary, to prove a point and because he could.

To begin with, Alis fellow classmates had called her Oma behind her back. Originally the word came from one of the other young recruits, a blond-haired, ruddy-faced guy whose family hailed from South Africa. In Afrikaans oma evidently meant something like old woman or maybe even grandma. There it probably had an air of respect about it. Here in the academy, however, most of Alis classmates were fifteen to twenty years younger than she was. In context, the word was intended as an insult, meant to keep Ali in her place. To her knowledge, this was the first time she had been called that in front of one of the instructors.

Thats why female officers end up having to resort to weapons so often, Pettit said. They dont know how to use their bodies properly. By the way, whats that he called you?

Alis face flushed. Old Lady, she answered.

What?

Old Lady, sir! she corrected.

Thats better. Now get your butt over to first aid. You should probably have a Band-Aid on that cut over your eye. And have them give you an ice pack. Looks to me like youre gonna have yourself a real shiner.

It was a long walk through the sweaty, overheated gym. The Phoenix metropolitan area was roasting in triple-digit heat. Although the gyms AC was running at full strength, it couldnt do more than thirty degrees below the outside temp of 116.

Alis classmates stopped what they were doing and stood on their own mats to watch her walk of shame. Some of them were sympathetic, but more shared Joses opinion that no self-respecting fortysomething female had any business being there, and they wanted her to quit. Blood dribbled down the side of her cheek and onto the neck of her T-shirt. She made no effort to wipe it away. If her classmates were looking for blood, shed give it to them.

She stepped out of the gym into glaring sunshine and brutal afternoon heat. The mountains in the distance were obscured by a haze of earth-brown smog. August was supposed to be the rainy season with monsoon rains drenching the thirsty Sonoran Desert, but so far the much-needed rains were absent although the rising humidity was not.

By the time Ali arrived at the administration office, she had made herself a promise: sometime in the next two weeks, Jose Reyes was looking at a takedown of his own.