J. A. Jance - Damage Control (Joanna Brady Series #13)  

LAUREN DAYSON WAS SLEEPING SOUNDLY WHEN SOME SMALL noise in

THANK YOU SO MUCH, MR. CAMPBELL, CLAIRE NEWMARK SAID AS

WHILE STOPPING OFF TO GRAB A QUICK LUNCH IN SIERRA

HALF A MILE BEYOND THE MOBILE HOME, PARK DEPUTY RAYMONDS

BY THE TIME JOANNA LED CAROL SUNDERSON BACK OVER TO

BY NOON JOANNA HAD THINGS AT WORK AS MUCH UNDER

JOANNA AND BUTCH WERE IN BED BY NINE AND ASLEEP

TO JOANNAS SURPRISE, WHEN THE INTERVIEW ENDED LUCINDA Mappin insisted

ANOTHER LATE-AFTERNOON THUNDERSTORM WAS PREDICTED. NOT wanting to have her

THE STARTLING REVELATIONS ABOUT JOANNAS FATHER AND THE clear threat

COMING BACK TO THE OFFICE AFTER LUNCH, JOANNA FOUND SHE

MOM, JENNY CALLED FROM THE BEDROOM DOORWAY. YOUD better get

HE WAS LESS THAN HELPFUL, DEB COMMENTED AS THEY WALKED

DREADING THE UPCOMING CONFRONTATION, DEB HOWELL AND Joanna drove most

WANTING ALL HANDS ON DECK FOR SANDYS INTERVIEW, JOANNA had

DRIVING DOWN THE WASHBOARDED DIRT TRACK FROM THE ranch house

IT WAS WELL AFTER THREE OCLOCK IN THE MORNING BEFORE

WHEN THE GURNEY WAS FINALLY LOADED INTO THE M.E.S VAN,

JOANNA STAGGERED BACK TO HER OFFICE, WHERE SHE NO LONGER

IT TOOK A WHILE FOR JOANNA TO EXTRICATE HERSELF FROM

BY THE TIME THEY GOT THEIR WEAPONS AND WERE OUTSIDE

LAUREN DAYSON WAS SLEEPING SOUNDLY WHEN SOME SMALL noise in the front room of the apartment disturbed her. What actually awakened her was the sound of Mojo barking. Mojo, an unlikely cross between a Chihuahua and a chow, was a pintsized, laughable dog, but this time she was barking in her ferocious big-dog voice, and Lauren knew what it meant. Rick Mosier was here. Somewhere in her apartment. Somewhere in her home. He had broken in and he was coming for her.

Rick had warned Lauren that he would be. He had sworn that if he couldnt have her, nobody would. He swore he would kill her before he would let her go, and Lauren had reason to believe him. He told her that it didnt matter to him if she moved or changed the locks on the doors or put bars on her windows or papered Pima County with restraining orders against him. He said she could never hide from himthat he would find her anyway; that if Rick Mosier wanted her, he would have her. End of story.

When Lauren had first fallen for the guy, that kind of exclusivity hadnt bothered her. It hadnt been a problem. She had loved him with all her heart. She had been intrigued by the fact that Rick walked on the wild side; that he lived an edgy existence that was beyond the scope of her limited, girl-next-door experience. She had been fascinated by the idea that when he sped around campus on his skateboard like a modern-day whirling dervish, he had carried at least one handgun and often several knives along with the schoolbooks in his backpack.

Lauren came from a family where the very idea of owning guns was unacceptable. According to her father, only right-wing yahoos owned guns. Rick was, in fact, the antithesis of right wing, but knowing he was armed to the teeth every moment of every day was part of what made him appealing in a forbidden-fruit sort of way. For Lauren, the good-girl daughter, as opposed to her older sister, the rebellious one, Rick was an idea whose time had come at a point when Lauren was a naive freshman and Rick a mature twenty-one.

She had found him utterly fascinating and charming in those early days, especially when Rick told Lauren she was the fair princess to his dark prince. Over her parents strident objections and because she knew it would drive them nuts, Lauren had moved in with him at the end of her junior year. Their romance had stopped being charming on the day three years later when Rick had blackened one of Laurens eyes because he claimed shed been flirting with a guy playing pool at the Red Garter when theyd gone there for a burger. The truth was, she hadnt even noticed the man, but that didnt matter to an insanely jealous Rick. Two months after that, hed broken her arm for the same reasonbecause he thought she was flirting with someone else. That wasnt the end of the relationship, but it was pretty much the end of the fascination.

Eventually Lauren had taken her worldly goods and moved out. The best she could afford on her own was a much cheaper apartment in a not-so-good part of town. So she had done all those other clichd things as well. She had convinced her new landlord, Mr. Ford, to put bars on her windows, jamb-bars in the slider, and dead bolts on the front door. Lauren had also managed to sweet-talk her way around Mr. Fords No Pet rule. He had finally reluctantly gone along with letting Mojo move in by saying she was such a worthless little sample of muttdom that she didnt really qualify as a pet, let alone a canine.

In addition to all that, Lauren really had gone to Legal Aid and gotten herself a restraining order, but shed done one thing morethe one thing her parents would never tolerate or forgive. Shed gone to Best Deal Pawn, just up First Avenue, and bought herself a used Glock 26 semiautomatic. Then shed made it her business to learn how to use it. Shed taken the classes and passed the necessary tests so she could have her very own concealed-weapon permit as well. And that was where her Glock was at the momentconcealed and loadeddirectly under her pillow.

The first chambered round was full of bird shot. That was supposed to function as a deterrentas a nonlethal warning shot. After that, though, all bets were off. The others were hollow points. Her instructor had told her, If you draw a weapon, youd better plan on shooting to kill. And thats what she was going to do. If the first bullet didnt stop Rick, one of the others sure as hell would.

Mojo was closer now, still barking frantically, still raising the alarm. The phone was right there on the bedside table. Lauren could have reached for that, but she knew the statistics. Rick had come to kill her. Shed be dead long before Tucson PD could respond to an abortive 911 call. Instead, Lauren reached for her weapon and pulled it free of the bedding and free of the holster. Then she turned over and propped herself up on the pillows.

She could have switched on the lamp, but she didnt. The full moon outside glowed in through the window, suffusing the room in an eerie silvery light. She hoped it would make it easier for her to see him and harder for him to see her. With her heart pounding a quickening drumbeat in her chest, she sat, with the gun trained on the open doorway, waiting.

Suddenly Mojos barks were punctuated by a sickening thump. The dog gave a startled half-yip and fell momentarily silent.

My baby, Lauren thought fiercely. My poor baby. That son of a bitch kicked her!

Mojo whimpered then. The sound of the injured dog only served to strengthen Laurens resolve.

Ill get you for that! she swore to herself.

Lauren had already decided that this was where Rick Mosier would meet his fair princess match. This was Laurens home, her castle, and she was going to make her last stand here no matter what. Not that there was time for her to move or run away even if shed wanted to. Besides, where would she have goneout through her carefully barred window and then down a twenty-foot drop to hard-packed bare dirt? Not a good idea.

Then suddenly he was therea dark silhouette looming in her bedroom doorway. Lauren saw the moonlight dance off something in his hand. She knew at once what it waswhat it had to bea knife blade shimmering in the moonlit room.

The cops on TV always warn the people theyre about to shoot, but in Laurens book, Rick Mosier didnt deserve any warningnone at all. Armed or not, he was an uninvited intruder in her home. She simply held the weapon with both hands and squeezed down on the trigger. Rick squawked once in surprise when the bird shot hit him. He staggered and turned aside as if to protect himself, and then he grunted when the first hollow point hit him as well. But just because he was falling didnt mean Lauren stopped pulling the trigger. She fired away, one shot after another, following him as he fell. None of the shots went wide of their mark. Every single one of them hit him, even though he was dead before the last one struck.