The Competition - [4]
As he neared the boys’ restroom, he risked another glance over his shoulder. Saw them behind him, heading toward the library. Hector leaned into the lavatory door and fell to the floor inside. Using his left hand, he slid his cell phone out of his pocket and pushed 9-1-1. He managed the words “Fairmont…shooting.” The last thing he saw before blacking out was the time on his cell phone: 11:08.
Harley had been in the library for the past hour, head down, desperately cramming factoids on the War of the Roses, when the fire alarm began to ring. He’d ignored it. Probably just a prank or an accident. But the shrill clanging persisted. Harley looked around, sniffed the air. No smoke. He got up and headed toward the windows that looked down on the front of the school to see if they were being evacuated. He’d gotten only halfway across the library when he heard screams, pounding footsteps-and then a voice bellowing from somewhere out in the hallway. “Hey, assholes, have a nice day!”
A series of loud pops-they sounded like firecrackers, but…were they shots? Then laughter, ugly and brutal. Another shot. Then another. Closer this time. Just outside the library door. Harley frantically turned to Ms. Sara Beason, the teacher on duty. She stood at the front counter, staring wide-eyed at the doorway. He started to move toward her, when she suddenly screamed, “Hide!”
Harley quickly scrambled behind a bookcase and ducked down. A blonde girl was standing near the storage cubbies at the front of the library, frozen, mouth hanging open.
“Get down!” Harley whispered to her. “Down!” He gestured to her wildly.
She stared at him, uncomprehending at first. Harley crawled over to her and yanked at her hand, pulling her to her knees. She dropped woodenly to all fours and curled up under a nearby desk. Harley scurried back to his hiding place.
Seconds later a mocking voice came from the doorway. “Where’re all the good little kiddies? Helloooo?” Footsteps, then the same voice, closer now. “Hey, who’s got library duty? Guess what? It’s your lucky day!” Harley heard Sara Beason scream. Then, the boom of gunfire. It rattled the windows, shook the desks.
Harley thought only a bomb could be that loud. More footsteps, Harley couldn’t tell exactly where, and more shots. How many? It was impossible to know. It all blended together in one continuous deafening roar. From the other side of the library he heard moaning, then a low swishing sound. What was that? Harley heard a weird, high-pitched laugh. Someone-one of the killers?-snickered and said, “Losers.” Again footsteps, this time moving his way.
Harley swallowed hard, pressing his lips together to keep from screaming. He peeked through a gap in the books and saw someone-A killer? It had to be-walk over to the desk where the blonde girl had hidden. Shaking with terror, Harley tried not to breathe. He couldn’t think beyond the words Go away, go away, go away that ran through his brain on a continuous loop. The killer moved past the desk. Harley briefly closed his eyes in gratitude and dared to take a shallow breath. Then, without warning, the killer doubled back and rapped sharply on the desk.
“Knock, knock, anybody home?” He laughed, leaned down, and looked at the girl cowering on the floor.
The girl sobbed, “No! Please! Please don’t-”
“Please don’t,” the killer mocked in a high falsetto. “Well, since you said please.” He took two steps away, then abruptly turned back. “Then again, that’s a stupid, bullshit word.” He swung the barrel of the gun under the desk. Fired point-blank into her face. Blood and brains splashed the wall behind the girl.
Harley jammed a fist into his mouth and clutched his chest with the other hand to muffle the pounding of his heart. Ears ringing from the deafening sound, he squeezed himself into a ball and took shallow little breaths. He knew he was next. A warm, wet trickle made its way down his right leg.
He heard footsteps, the brush of pant legs. It sounded like they were near the windows, but he couldn’t be sure. Could they see him from there? Harley didn’t dare turn his head to look. He thought of his mom, his dad, pictured them during one of their last happy dinners together, and squeezed his eyes shut to hold on to the memory. One of the killers was speaking. The voice seemed very close. Just feet away. Harley willed the ringing in his ears to stop as he strained to make out the words.
One of the killers spoke again. “Ready?”
An affirmation. “Yeah.”
Then both voices. “Three…two…one.”
A beat of silence.
This is it, Harley thought. He curled up knees to chin, wrapped his arms over his head, and sobbed silently into his chest.
2
I glanced at the clock on the courtroom wall for the fiftieth time. It was seventeen minutes past eleven, which meant I’d been waiting exactly twenty-seven minutes for my case to be called. I hate waiting. Especially in a noisy courtroom where I can’t get anything else done. Usually I could stay in my office until the prosecutor assigned to the courtroom called me with a five-minute warning-it was all I needed, since my office was just upstairs-but this particular home-court deputy district attorney wasn’t exactly a fan of mine. We’d locked horns a couple of years ago when he screwed up the murder of a homeless man. Deputy DA Brandon Averill was just too big a hotshot to be bothered with low-rent, pedestrian crimes like that. I’d grabbed the case away from him in front of a packed courtroom and wound up proving he’d had the wrong guy in custody. My bestie, fellow Special Trials prosecutor Toni LaCollier, says Brandon’s a dangerous enemy. I say Brandon’s a tool. We’re probably both right.
When the daughter of a billionaire Hollywood director is found murdered after what appears to be a kidnapping gone wrong, Los Angeles Special Trials prosecutor Rachel Knight and Detective Bailey Keller find themselves at the epicenter of a combustible and high-profile court case.Then a prime suspect is revealed to be one of Hollywood's most popular and powerful talent managers-and best friend to the victim's father.With the director vouching for the manager's innocence, the Hollywood media machine commences an all-out war designed to discredit both Rachel and her case.KILLER AMBITION is at once a thrilling ride through the darker side of Tinseltown and a stunning courtroom drama with the brilliant insider's perspective that Marcia Clark is uniquely qualified to give.
Without a Doubt is not just a book about a trial. It's a book about a woman. Marcia Clark takes us inside her head and her heart. Her voice is raw, incisive, disarming, unmistakable. Her story is both sweeping and deeply personal. It is the story of a woman who, when caught up in an event that galvanized an entire country, rose to that occasion with singular integrity, drive, honesty and grace.In a case that tore America apart, and that continues to haunt us as few events of history have, Marcia Clark emerged as the only true heroine, because she stood for justice, fought the good fight, and fought it well.
First in a new series from bestselling author and famed O. J. Simpson trial prosecutor Marcia Clark, a "terrific writer and storyteller" (James Patterson).Samantha Brinkman, an ambitious, hard-charging Los Angeles criminal defense attorney, is struggling to make a name for herself and to drag her fledgling practice into the big leagues. Sam lands a high-profile double-murder case in which one of the victims is a beloved TV star – and the defendant is a decorated veteran LAPD detective. It promises to be exactly the kind of media sensation that would establish her as a heavy hitter in the world of criminal law.Though Sam has doubts about his innocence, she and her two associates (her closest childhood friend and a brilliant ex-con) take the case.
TROUBLE IN PARADISE is an all-new short story featuring Rachel Knight, star of thrillers GUILT BY ASSOCIATION and GUILT BY DEGREES.Rachel Knight and her friends Toni and Bailey are taking a break from their busy, crime-focussed lives with a trip to tropical island paradise Aruba. But trouble is never far away from these three, and on their first day their investigative skills are called on when a reality TV child star goes missing…
Someone has been watching D.A. Rachel Knight-someone who's Rachel's equal in brains, but with more malicious intentions. It began when a near-impossible case fell into Rachel's lap, the suspectless homicide of a homeless man. In the face of courthouse backbiting and a gauzy web of clues, Rachel is determined to deliver justice. She's got back-up: tough-as-nails Detective Bailey Keller. As Rachel and Bailey stir things up, they're shocked to uncover a connection with the vicious murder of an LAPD cop a year earlier.
Украина, Черниговщина, зачарованная Десна. Из бездонной глубины Тихого затона раз в сто лет поднимается древнее чудовище, о котором сложены местные легенды. Именно подводному монстру приписывают серию жестоких убийств. Жертвы — местные рыбаки, рискнувшие ловить рыбу в Тихом затоне. Но чудовище оставляет следы. Значит, оно из плоти и крови, и потому смертно. Кто смертен — того можно поймать, считает бывший полицейский Виталий Мельник. У него дурная репутация и железная хватка. Начав частное расследование, он в какой-то момент понимает: зашел так далеко, что под ногами уже нет дна.
В причудливый узор сплетаются судьбы героев романа: адвоката-красавицы Тамары, безнадежно влюбленного в нее аналитика Боба, оперативника Вохи и бизнесмена Виктора Новака. Любовь, ненависть, соперничество, случайные встречи и взаимные обиды связывают этих людей, а объединяет единая цель: поиск серийного убийцы. «Несчастный случай» — так называется новый роман, раскрывающий обстоятельства пятого дела из серии «Тройная защита». Прошло несколько лет после смерти мужа Тамары Макса, друга и коллеги Боба и Вохи.
Летними вечерами в дачном поселке собиралась дружная компания хороших знакомых – пока к ним не присоединились новые соседи. Это неприятные, грубые люди – сильно пьющий художник Денис, его вульгарная супруга Иричка и ее тихая, незаметная сестра Зина. Как-то вечером, когда компания сидела во дворе, нарядная Иричка прошла мимо, небрежно помахав присутствующим, а вскоре ее труп нашли в ближайшем овраге…Полиция начала расследование, но соседи решили не оставаться в стороне и попросили Олега Монахова, называющего себя ясновидящим и волхвом, присоединиться к поискам убийцы в частном порядке…
Литературный клуб библиотеки имени Александра Грина славится активной литературно-светской жизнью: яркие презентации, встречи с незаурядными творческими личностями, бурные дискуссии, милейшие дружеские посиделки. На одном из таких вечеров происходит убийство. Личность погибшего, склочника и скандалиста, не вызывает особых симпатий тесного клубного кружка, однако какое несмываемое пятно на безупречной репутации библиотеки! Таня Нестерова, соратница, подруга и заместитель директора Бэллы Мироновой, понимает, что полиции с разгадкой не справиться: убийца не случайный гость «со стороны», а кто-то из ближнего круга, а причина убийства кроется в глубине запутанного клубка тайных любовных связей, ненависти, предательства и уязвленного самолюбия.
Политическая ситуация на Корейском полуострове близка к коллапсу. В высших эшелонах власти в Южной Корее, Японии и США плетется заговор… Бывших разведчиков не бывает — несмотря на миролюбивый характер поездки в Пхеньян, Артем Королев, в прошлом полковник Генштаба, а ныне тренер детской спортивной команды, попадает в самый эпицентр конфликта. Оказывается, что для него в этой игре поставлены на карту не только офицерская честь и судьба Родины, но и весь смысл его жизни.