by Diane Capri
FATAL DAWN
A JESS KIMBALL THRILLER
DIANE CAPRI
and
NIGEL BLACKWELL
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 Grand Master and Past President
Copyright © 2018 Diane Capri and Nigel Blackwell
All Rights Reserved
Published by: AugustBooks
Visit the author websites: DianeCapri.com
NigelBlackwell.com
Fatal Dawn 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.
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eISBN: 978-1-940768-98-4
Original Cover Design: Cory Clubb
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Reviews
Copyright
Dear Friends
FATAL DAWN
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
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
About the Authors
Also by the Authors
Dear Friends,
Thank you for buying this copy of Fatal Dawn, the story that will change Jess Kimball’s life forever.
I’m very excited to share this new Jess Kimball novel 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 Dawn will not disappoint!
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/
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 Nigel and I feel it’s an honor and a privilege to write for you.
Caffeinate & Carry On!
FATAL DAWN
by
DIANE CAPRI
and
NIGEL BLACKWELL
Presented By:
AugustBooks
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Jessica Kimball
Henry Morris
Emilio Fernandez
Carter Pierce
Mandy Donovan
Lynette Tierney
Ross Tierney
Earle Gotting
Shane Hallman
Henrik Metcalfe
Zander Norell
Tanya Norell
Ammerson Belk
and
Peter Kimball
CHAPTER ONE
Monday, May 29
6:30 a.m.
Humboldt Prison, Kansas
Shane Hallman watched Earle Gotting’s spindly body shuffle down the wireframe steps from the upper cell block. His orange prison jumpsuit hung off his shoulders and rolled up sleeves exposed stick-like arms. In his hands were a few threadbare clothes and a couple of pictures. His worldly possessions. All of them.
At the bottom of the steps lay the recreation area. A dozen steel tables all bolted to the concrete floor. Each table had a bench on either side, also bolted to the concrete. A str
ict code determined who could sit at which table and Gotting wasn’t welcome at any of them. He turned straight for the wall and moved along the side of the recreation area.
Hallman crossed the room and put his foot on one of the benches, blocking Gotting’s path.
Gotting moved to go around.
Hallman blocked his progress. “You’re getting out.”
Gotting’s face remained impassive. “Done my time.”
Hallman snorted derisively. “So did I. Year ago I was up for parole. They denied me. Because of you.”
“Not my problem.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“You’ve been inside for some chicken shit stuff. Drug running. Unlicensed guns. You’d have been here for life if they knew what you’d done.” Hallman glowered. “Six more months and I’m done here. Then I’ll make all of this your problem. Count on it.”
“You’ve hung out with the wrong crowd in here, repeating the mistake you made out there with that thug Metcalfe.” Gotting tilted his head toward the exit and shrugged as if the threats were water off his back. “Got to pick your friends more careful.”
Hallman leaned forward. He saw the strain around Gotting’s eyes as he enunciated each syllable separately. “I. Wasn’t. There.”
“And I’m going to remember that after your gang beat me senseless,” Gotting said, chin jutting forward. He patted his right leg. The one they’d mangled.
Hallman shrugged. “You should have told them what they wanted to know.”
“You mean what you wanted to know,” Gotting said.
“I wasn’t there!” Hallman growled. “You should have told them. You’d be walking straight.”
Gotting snarled back. “You’ve been drinking the Kool-Aid and listening to the wrong stories. Think if I had some secret stash somewhere, I’d be limping out of here?”
Hallman leaned closer and cracked his knuckles. “I think you’re so stupid it’ll take a lot more than a damaged leg to get that secret out of you.”
A guard stepped up behind Hallman and spoke over his shoulder. “You leaving or hanging around, Gotting?”
Hallman stepped aside, and gestured to the exit door, painted with the words “Way Out,” like any inmate was likely to mistake the exit for something else.
It was the warden’s idea of a joke. A lame insider’s joke meant to convey that no inmate could find his way out. In the battle of the guards against the inmates, inmates made better jokes. Crude and vulgar. Cutting and remorseless. But the warden and his guards always got the last laugh. Walking out free was the only thing most of the inmates wanted.
“Yeah, big day,” Gotting said to the officer.
“We should meet up when I get out. Catch up on old times.” Hallman punched Gotting on the shoulder. “I insist.”
Gotting tucked his bundle of possessions under his arm and rapped on the door with his knuckles. He glanced back at Hallman one last time before he walked out and closed the door from the other side.
Hallman stood for a while watching the door. He should have been the one walking out. And he would. Soon. Only six more months. Make the best of it, Gotting. I’m coming for you. This will be the last six months you’ll draw breath. Trust me.
CHAPTER TWO
Six months later
Monday, November 27
8:00 a.m.
Denver, Colorado
Jess threaded her powerful Dodge Charger through the Monday morning Denver traffic on her way to work. She rarely spent enough time in Denver to battle rush hour traffic. She definitely remembered why she hated it.
The weekend’s dusting of snow lingered in doorways and corners. She tuned into a radio report on the decline of the bee population. A specialist was encouraging conservation efforts before large-scale agriculture production was affected, he said.
She turned off onto a quiet street well behind a white Lexus sedan. The traffic light turned red a moment before the Lexus reached the intersection. A Toyota cut across the lane into the cushion she’d left herself.
Jess braked hard.
The Toyota rear-ended the Lexus. Both cars rocked on their suspension.
She stopped barely two feet from the Toyota’s rear bumper. She checked her rearview mirror. The car behind her was too close. She couldn’t back up.
An elderly driver stepped out of the Lexus. He sorrowfully looked at the broken bumper on his car.
A passenger stepped from the rear of the Toyota. He was too thin. Long blond hair straggled from his baseball cap. On the back of his neck was a tattoo she couldn’t make out from this distance.
Jess leaned forward.
The older man pointed at his car and said something.
The skinny guy covered the distance between them in two strides and swung a punch. He had another tattoo on his hand.
The Lexus driver toppled backward onto the sidewalk.
Jess grabbed her phone and dialed 911.
She stretched forward to see. The Toyota couldn’t move because it was trapped between her and the Lexus.
The operator answered. “911, what’s your emergency?”
The Toyota passenger rifled through the old guy’s clothes, taking his cell phone and wallet.
“Police. Robbery. Junction of Fletcher and Bonnell.”
The thin man jumped into the Lexus and screamed off in a cloud of smoke. The Toyota did the same right behind the Lexus.
“Make that a carjacking. White Lexus sedan. Suspect also in a white Toyota.” Jess stabbed a button to transfer the call to her car’s speakers.
“Are you safe?” the operator said.
“It’s not my car. There’s an elderly man injured.”
The old guy struggled to his feet.
“Do you have the plate number?”
Jess moved up to where the old guy was standing. “Get in.”
“Do you have the Lexus’s plate?” the operator repeated.
From the passenger seat, the old guy said, “I’m the owner. Ronald Walsh,” and reported his license plate. “They’ve got my wife.”
The Toyota and Lexus were almost two blocks away already.
Jess pulled away hard. She told the operator, “We’re pursuing the Lexus.”
“Please don’t put yourself in any danger. I have alerted police,” the operator replied.
Walsh fiddled to fasten his seat belt.
“Two patrol cars are on the way. ETA two minutes,” the operator said.
Jess stopped at the next light. Cross traffic was sparse, but running the red light was a risk she wouldn’t take. “They’ll be too late.”
The Lexus and Toyota took different directions at the block ahead. When her light changed, Jess went after the Lexus.
Walsh finally secured his seatbelt. “He had a gun. My wife has a weak heart.”
“We’ll follow him until the police arrive. Then we’ll leave it to the professionals.”
“She has asthma, too.”
The road opened into two lanes. The Lexus raced away. Jess took the outside lane, struggling to keep up with the more powerful car.
“Lexus is now heading east on Wilson,” she said to the 911 operator.
“Please ma’am, the police are on their way.”
“Tell them to hurry or these guys will be long gone.”
The Lexus braked hard and whipped left through a gap in the traffic. Angry horns blared.
Jess slowed. There was no gap in the traffic for her.
Walsh strained forward to see the Lexus. “I can’t find them.”
Jess accelerated for a space in the traffic.
Walsh struggled to hold onto the grab handle and dashboard when she turned sharply at the next left.
The street was one-way with two lanes. Jess used the left lane, racing between gaps in the traffic, slowing to search for signs of the Lexus. Four blocks down, she took another left.
She whipped her head left to right. No sign of the attacker.
The road ended at
a T-junction with a street that ran along a steep grass embankment.
She turned left again.
Walsh pointed down the embankment. “There she is.”
The Lexus was on a parallel road at the bottom of the embankment.
Jess accelerated to chase them.
The Lexus’s wheels locked up in a cloud of smoke. The car fishtailed. Traffic behind it screeched to a halt.