Lethal Journey

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Lethal Journey Page 1

by Kim Cresswell




  About the Book

  Manhattan District Attorney, Lauren Taylor, is about to take on the most important case of her career, prosecuting Gino Valdina, acting mob boss of New York’s most influential crime syndicate.

  For three decades, Gino Valdina has led New York’s Valdina crime family. Since his recent indictment for murder, the leadership of the family is in turmoil, appalled by the death of one of their own, Gino’s wife, Madelina. Without the support of the family behind him, Valdina will do anything to save himself.

  But Lauren soon discovers, things aren’t always as they seem when she’s tossed into a mystery, a deadly conspiracy that reaches far beyond the criminal underworld and a journey into the past makes her a target...and anyone she’s ever loved.

  About the Author

  Kim Cresswell resides in Ontario, Canada. Trained as a legal assistant, Kim has been a story-teller all her life but took many detours including; working for a private investigator, running a graphic design business, and teaching computer classes at a local business school before returning to her first love, writing.

  Lethal Journey was a finalist in Romance Writers of America’s (FTHRW) From the Heart Romance Writers Golden Gateway contest (2003).

  Kim’s debut suspense novel, REFLECTION, has won numerous awards including; UP Authors Fiction Challenge Winner (2013), Silicon Valley’s Romance Writers of America (RWA), “Gotcha!” Romantic Suspense Winner (2004), and an Honourable Mention in Calgary RWA’s The Writer’s Voice Contest (2006).

  Her action-packed thrillers have been highly praised by reviewers and readers worldwide. As one reviewer said, "Buckle up, Hang on tight!"

  Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Blog

  Also by Kim Cresswell

  Fiction

  REFLECTION

  LETHAL JOURNEY (A Short Novel Thriller)

  True Crime

  Real Life Evil – A True Crime Quickie (Book One)

  Smashwords Edition

  Lethal Journey © 2013 by Kim Cresswell

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or events, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover Art © 2013 by Rocking Book Covers

  Published by KC Publishing

  eBook ISBN: 978-0-9920841-1-0

  First eBook Edition *September 2013

  Dedication

  For Justin, Carla, Porter and Peyton

  In memory of Mary Beech

  Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.

  - From a headstone in Ireland

  Acknowledgements

  I want to thank my critique partners and beta-readers who were in the trenches reading early drafts to proofing final edits. You guys rock!

  Much appreciation goes to Patricia Green at Room With Books for her insight, comments and wise editing suggestions. Your friendship and support is priceless.

  A huge thank you to all my fans, readers and reviewers. I hope you find Lethal Journey an entertaining and thrilling read!

  LETHAL JOURNEY

  ____________________________

  A Short Novel Thriller

  by

  Kim Cresswell

  "An entertaining and complex novella with some solid twists at the end." —Cheryl Kaye Tardif, international bestselling author of SUBMERGED

  “The Cops. The mob. The district attorney. Lethal Journey is an intricate and suspenseful thriller that offers an action packed thrill-ride with stunning revelations and a nail-biting conclusion!”

  —Patricia, Room With Books

  “The action is very riveting...The characters are so personable...Two thumbs up, five stars, and a profound desire to tell EVERYONE about this book.”

  —Goodreads Review

  “Kim Cresswell’s talent shines through again! With a talent for setting the stage, bringing in the characters and cuing the action, she held me from page one. She is not afraid to write a tale that is real, where the good guys do not go unscathed and they are not perfect. There is grit in her style, and when she says you are in a warehouse with a stench, you smell it. The romantic tension runs high, and using character flashbacks to the past not only builds on the development of each character as a flesh and blood entity, but serve to eventually bring everything full circle with an ending that you will NOT see coming!” —Dianne, Tome Tender's Book Blog

  “I devoured this book and I wanted more especially at the end as I couldn’t get enough of these characters...I thoroughly enjoyed this novella and suggest it to anyone who wants a quick, fast paced, action packed read with a little romance thrown in to steam things up and divert from the drama for a little while. Be sure to put this on your ‘to-read’ list.” —Sharon's Book Nook

  “Well I must say Kim Cresswell has done it again. I finished up Lethal Journey and absolutely loved the ride it took me on emotionally. This book has a whole lot of everything suspense. Loss, love, betrayal and those are just a few of the things it offers! And let’s talk about her main characters for a minute She always writes her woman strong and independent which I love and Lauren Taylor is no exception Then you add Eric Brennan sexy alpha male that I would have to describe as perfectly flawed and delicious! And you got yourself a great love story that works right into the mystery of the book.” —Jenni, First Class Books

  “Perfection is achieved, not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.” -Antoine de Saint-Exupery

  Chapter One

  September 1997

  Rain pounded down.

  Lauren Taylor squinted through the windshield, a backwash of water battered the glass. She flicked the wipers on high and tightened her hands around the steering wheel. With a quick glance in the rear-view mirror she noticed headlights behind her. The vehicle appeared to speed up, fall back, and then speed up again.

  Her muscles tensed. “That driver behind us seems to be in a big hurry.”

  Her father leaned forward in the seat and peered into the side mirror. “He’s all over the road. Might be drunk or something.”

  “He’s crazy driving like that in this weather. I’m letting him go by.” She downshifted the Jaguar and steered onto the side of the road and rolled to a stop.

  As the van raced by. A giant wave of water pelted the side of the car.

  Her father watched out the window. “Christ, he’s flying”

  Taillights flickered and quickly faded ahead into the blackened night.

  With a quick glimpse in the mirror, Lauren steered the car back onto the road, her grip relaxed around the wheel. “That’s better.”

  Her father repositioned himself in the leather seat and stretched his legs. “The Law Society’s dinner is next week. You going?”

  God, the dinner. She’d bought an expensive navy and white designer dress for the occasion and even toyed with the idea of having her hair cut into something more sophisticated and polished for a New York district attorney.

  “I’ll have to check my schedule.”

  “Not good enough. I want you there, Lauren. My chance to show you off. Do some bragging, big time.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, Dad. Okay.”

  “And don’t forget to bring a date for protection. Don’t want a bunch of drunken seedy lawyers groping you on the dance floor. And by the way, I heard Eric was back in town.”

  Her smile faded as she remembered the annual dinner years before. She’d never forgotten a
single detail of that night—how Eric held her in his arms and how his mouth devoured her willing lips then pulled away and left her mouth burning for more...

  “What else did you hear about him?” she blurted out.

  “Not much. Can’t even remember where I heard the news. Thought you didn’t want to talk about Brennan?”

  “I don’t. I just wondered when he got back.”

  Her father's jaw tightened. “Don’t know.” His voice turned hard. “Just heard he’s back.”

  At one point in their relationship, Eric begged her to come with him and start a new life in Florida. She didn’t have the courage to leave her father and walk away from her job. Four years later, she was taking on the most important case of her career—prosecuting Gino Valdina, head of New York’s crime family, just like her father had done a decade before. But this time would be different. Gino Valdina wasn’t going to get away with murder.

  The sky split and lightning lit the wet road. Lauren eyed the exit sign to Hyde Park.

  The whining squeal of an engine roared from behind.

  Lauren glanced over her shoulder. “God, that van is back.” She clicked on the turning signal and steered onto the off-ramp. Her eyes darted back to the side mirror.

  Headlights swerved from side to side.

  A shiver drove up her spine. She clutched the steering wheel.

  “I’m calling the police.” Her father grabbed his cell phone out of the glove box and turned it on. “Damn it. I can’t get a signal.”

  “Keep trying.”

  The van’s driver gunned the engine.

  The grill came into view, massive and powerful.

  Close. Too close.

  Metal connected and scraped against the bumper.

  The van shoved the Jaguar ahead on the road.

  High-beams from the other lane blinded her.

  Lauren blinked and turned her head.

  The van rammed the back of the car. Metal popped as the back window disintegrated into the back seat.

  The seat belt snapped across her shoulder. Her head slammed back on the head rest then forward. “Oh my God!”

  The cell phone flew from her father’s hand. “What the—”

  “Dad!”

  Like a slingshot the Jaguar shot down the slick road.

  Lauren slammed on the brakes.

  The car slid a half circle and spun out of control. A massive tidal wave of water washed over the roof.

  Her father clutched the dashboard with both hands. “The tree!”

  She yanked the steering wheel hard to the left.

  Wood splintered. Metal buckled, squealed and cracked. The air bag struck her body like a fist, and smacked her head against the side window. She pushed at it, viciously. With every move, fiery pain shot through her face and down her neck. The sickening sweet stench of gasoline and smoke filled her nostrils. Her head clouded.

  Lauren heard her own voice, pinched and muffled, cry out. “Dad!” until her words drifted into silence.

  Chapter Two

  Earlier that day...

  Buff Stud Looking For Slender Goddess.

  Get Real. Lauren leaned forward in the leather chair, sipped her Chamomile tea, and searched the personal ads on the Heavenly Dates web site. From her previous visits, familiar faces cluttered the screen. Page after page she explored. Blue eyes the color of a bright summer morning stared back at her.

  She clutched her cup of tea with both hands.

  Professional Race Car Driver Seeks Intelligent, Independent, Slender Woman. Thirty-three year old male, six-foot-one, one-hundred and eighty-five pounds, muscular. Enjoys white water rafting, traveling and skydiving.

  Again, her gaze wandered over the man’s youthful face and broad smile. She read the small print below the picture.

  Not interested in marriage or children. Only a companion.

  In other words, just sex. She slammed the cup down on the office desk, tea splashed across the Yankees sweatshirt she wore.

  The chime of the grandfather clock from the living room forced her back to reality. She closed the laptop lid, and ran to the bathroom to prepare for dinner at the Four Season’s with her father.

  With ease, she twisted and tucked her long chestnut colored hair to create an elegant up-do. Rays of light reflected down from the Pueblo design fixture high above the oval mirror. Hidden within the antique makeup tray, she found her lip pencil and lined her lips. Next, she added her favorite shade of hot pink lipstick to enhance her fair skin. Midnight black mascara over her lashes, and her makeup was complete.

  After hunting through the walk-in closet, she pulled out a classic black dress she’d bought last week. Perched on the edge of the canopy bed she dressed, and then slipped on three-inch black heels, careful not to snag her stockings.

  Six long chimes from the clock blared through the house.

  Her gaze darted to the dresser. Dozens of perfume bottles, atomizers and Victorian powder boxes covered the cherry wood top. She chose a fragrance, dabbed a little behind her ears, down her neck and inside both wrists. A rich bouquet of roses, sweet powder, and lily of the valley surrounded her.

  Lucy barked.

  Lauren smoothed her dress over her hips and quickly checked herself in the mirror before heading into the hallway.

  “It’s okay, Lucy.” At Lauren’s words the chubby dog stopped barking and sat.

  Through the living room bay window, Lauren watched the black Jaguar pull in the driveway and park. Before her father had a chance to knock, she flung the door open and smiled at him. He was dressed in a charcoal gray suit and crisp white shirt. He carried a bouquet of long stem yellow roses.

  “For me?” Lauren asked.

  His eyes lit and he handed her the flowers. “Happy birthday, babygirl.” He patted Lucy on the top of the head.

  The dog wagged her tail and bounced up and down, determined to play.

  “My favorite. Thanks.” Lauren kissed his cheek. “Come on. I’ll put these in some water.”

  As she leaned against the kitchen counter and unwrapped the flowers, her father stood in front of the oak French doors that led to the cobblestone patio. She left the roses on the counter and pushed open the patio doors.

  Her gaze wandered over the lavish green lawns with gardens scattered throughout. “My pride and joy.” Parasol lights lit the huge lawn, abundant spotlights illuminated the multi-hued gardens.

  “Incredible. Did you add more roses? Those huge yellow ones over there?” He pointed to the oval garden on the left of the patio.

  “Yeah. Sun Flares. They smell like licorice.”

  A grin crossed his lips. “Hey, remember your tenth birthday?”

  Of course she did. Every birthday since her brother Jamie died, her father made each birthday count. Grown up fancy dinners at ritzy restaurants, extravagant gala parties and trips around the world.

  “How could I forget England? Stately homes, castles and abbeys, wandering through the lush countryside and those impeccable gardens. That’s where I got my inspiration. I’d love to go again.”

  Her father smiled. “Ever thought about getting into the landscaping business?”

  Lauren laughed. “No thanks. I’ll stick to being a prosecutor like you.”

  A gust of hot humid air brushed against her face. To the west, dark storm clouds built over the city as muffled thunder rumbled through the thick night air.

  “We’re in for a good storm by the looks of it.”

  “I think you’re right,” her father said.

  She patted him on the shoulder and walked back to the counter to cut the roses. “Take a look at the living room. I finally finished redecorating last weekend.”

  From the open concept kitchen she watched him look around the room. Honey faux finished walls warmed the room, cherry wood floors glistened with polish. A mixture of antique and contemporary furniture upholstered in faded tapestries occupied the space.

  “Wow. You’ve been a busy girl. Looks great.”

 
“I got rid of those sage green walls.” She arranged the flowers in the lead crystal vase and placed the vase on the kitchen table. “That damn green made the room look like a stick of rotten celery.”

  Her father smiled. “My talented daughter. District attorney, Harvard grad, no less. Gardener and now interior decorator.”

  She studied him unnoticed in front of the stone fireplace with a photograph of Jamie in his hand. His body slumped forward against the mantel. Her heart skipped a beat. He lowered his head and cleared his throat then stroked the outline of Jamie’s face.

  Inner torment gnawed at her heart and her mother’s voice blared through her head. I hate you. “Dad?”

  He turned. “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Not long.”

  “You know this is my favorite picture of the little guy. I see so much of your mother in Jamie, her fine blonde hair and round blue eyes.

  Lauren shivered. Thank God, she didn’t look anything like her mother.

  “How can you still miss her? It’s been over twenty-five years.”

  “I can’t explain it. I just do.”

 

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