eBook
Available on Compatible NOOK devices, the free NOOK App and in My Digital Library.
Related collections and offers
Overview
A successful businesswoman who used to play by the rules. A cautious single mother who never took chances. A gorgeous rebel out of money and almost out of time. Each loves a man unjustly charged and convicted by former prosecutor Hammond Grey. They've tried every legal remedy to get justice—only to see Hammond climb ever higher up the political ladder and secure himself behind power and privilege . . .
So when Kim, Jayda, and Harley meet in a support group, they've got no options left. It’s time for them to launch Plan B. And they won't stop at infiltrating Hammond's elite world and uncovering mass corruption. Exploiting his deepest weakness is the ultimate delicious payback—and the kind of justice they'll gamble everything to
get . . .
“A thought-provoking takedown of the $70 billion commercial-prison industry. Readers might find it’s just the right time to read about women fighting injustice—and one despicable man—together.”
—Booklist
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781496702173 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Kensington |
| Publication date: | 02/27/2018 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 336 |
| File size: | 1 MB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
A Year Earlier ...
We the jury in the above titled action find the defendant, Kendall Aaron Logan, guilty ...
Kim sat straight up, pulling in a gasp of air as she awakened from the recurring nightmare.
Guilty ...
She checked her watch and looked around, momentarily confused as to why she was in bed with the sun still out. Then she remembered. The other nightmare. The one that happened today, that crushed her heart completely and sapped her strength to the point where lying down was all she could do.
Her son's last appeal, the one to the Kansas Supreme Court, had been denied.
Denied ...
Head in hands, she squeezed her eyes against another onslaught of tears.
Guilty. Denied.
The words echoed and repeated in her head, like a silly song you hated but later found yourself singing. Only this wasn't a song, it was her real life, with a melancholy melody that made breathing difficult and dancing impossible.
Pulling the cover over her head, she squeezed her eyes shut again to hold back the tears. They leaked out anyway. Tears of sadness mixed with ones of bittersweet joy. Cries for her son, her miracle baby, the result of a pregnancy doctors had said would never happen. It did, after years of trying. A difficult one, but Kendall came out as six pounds, eight ounces, and twenty-one inches of perfection. Kim never got pregnant again. All the more reason the sun rose and set on their now six-foot-two, one-hundred-ninety-pound angel. The one who'd been in prison for two and a half years. The one whose final appeal the Kansas State Supreme Court had just denied.
"That's it. Get up, Kim." These mumbled words accompanied a determined push off the pillows as she rolled herself out of bed. "Aaron!"
Silence.
"Honey, are you here?"
She trudged down the stairs of the lovingly restored American Foursquare located in Kansas City, Missouri's historic Hyde Park neighborhood. When her husband had suggested they purchase it fifteen years ago, she had thought him mad. It had been in shambles, empty for more than a decade. Where she saw dilapidation, he saw potential. Over time, she saw it, too. They bought it for a steal, and over the next five years restored each room to its turn-of-the-century glory, with modern touches for convenience and a blended sense of style. Now, however, she didn't see any of that. Or Aaron. A quick check of the rooms confirmed that she was alone. When troubled, her husband of twenty years either sought solitude, buried himself in work, or combined the two. Solitude was the last thing she needed. Back upstairs, she picked up the phone to call her mom. It rang in her hand.
"Hi, Harley."
"Oh, no, Kim. Don't tell me ..."
Kim knew she didn't have to, that her somber greeting had more than answered the question for which her good friend had called.
"What reasons did the judges give?"
"None, if you ask me. They wrote a bunch of legal jargon, yada, yada, that made about as much sense as his conviction." She heard Harley's heavy sigh.
Exactly.
"Kim, I'm so sorry."
"Me, too."
"How are you holding up? Stupid question, I know, but ..."
"At the moment, not too good."
"Is your husband there?"
"Nope, it's just me. And the quiet isn't helping. I feel like I'm going crazy."
"I'm coming over."
"You don't have to do that."
"Did that sound like a question? I'm not letting you deal with this by yourself."
"I appreciate that. But I've got to get out of here."
"Fine. We'll meet somewhere then. How about Johnny's, where I used to work? The portions are large and the drinks are strong."
"I don't have much of an appetite, but I could sure use a drink. That's downtown, right? Near Twelfth and Main?"
"Tenth and Main."
"Got it. How soon can you get there?"
"Give me fifteen minutes."
"From Olathe? Slow down, girl. That trip should take half an hour at least."
"Okay, thirty minutes then."
Kim experienced her first laugh of the day. "All right, Mario Andretti. See you then."
Thirty-seven minutes later, Kim pulled into a space just a few doors down from Johnny's Steakhouse in downtown Kansas City. It was Tuesday, a beautiful May day, and were it the lunch hour finding a parking space near this popular haunt would have been impossible, let alone a table. But at four in the afternoon, one could sit almost anywhere. Though she lived twice as far from the restaurant, Kim wasn't surprised to see that Harley, a fiery millennial with Jack in her glass, ice in her veins, and a heart of gold, had beat her there and was sitting at the bar. Shocking Kim, though, was who sat beside her. Jayda, Kim's other best friend from WHIP, as sweet and easygoing as Harley was tough. WHIP, Women Helping Innocent Prisoners, was the organization Kim had founded soon after her innocent son was wrongfully convicted. It was this organization that had brought Harley Buchanan and Jayda Sanchez into her life, and helped save it.
Kim gave Harley a big hug and then turned to Jayda with a stern look. "You're supposed to be at work."
"I got sick," Jayda blurted before Kim could continue to fuss her out. "As soon as I heard what happened, I felt the beginnings of a fever and my throat got scratchy."
Kim's eyes narrowed.
"You needed me more than the pharmaceutical department did," Jayda whispered as she pulled Kim into a heartfelt embrace. "I'm sorry."
"Kim, what do you want to drink?"
"I could use a shot of your favorite, Harley, but since I'm driving it's probably better to stick with Merlot."
"Go grab a booth," the bartender told Harley. "I'll have the server bring over her drink, and freshen up your Jack and Coke."
"Sounds good." Harley slid off the barstool. "Come on, guys. Let's head to my office."
It was said lightheartedly enough, but heaviness joined them at the table, an uninvited, unwelcomed guest that settled in with the cocky confidence of an entity that knew it had every right to be there.
Kim looked between the two women almost young enough to be her daughters and stretched her hands toward them. "Thanks for being here, guys."
Each took a hand and squeezed. "Where's Aaron?" Jayda asked.
"The office, probably." Kim took a sip from the full glass of wine the waiter brought over, ready to take their order until Harley waved her away. "Or the golf course. Maybe the gym. We handle stress in polar opposite ways. He shuts down. I go off. He buries himself in work. I scream from the mountaintops to whomever will listen."
"I don't understand how the case was denied. I mean what ... how could he ... what happened?"
Kim shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't known much about anything since June twenty-seventh three years ago when Aaron and I got the call that changed our lives."
She clenched her jaw, rapidly blinked back tears, and looked beyond her friends into the nightmare that had become her life. "How did Kendall get a ten-year prison sentence on drug possession charges with no evidence, no witnesses? Just testimony from plea-bargained cronies that was corroborated by police officers who just happened to be friends with a district attorney blatantly building a political platform by being tough on crime?"
"Political platform. Who, Grey?" Harley's crystal-blue eyes widened in staunch disbelief.
"You didn't know?" Jayda asked. "He announced, what, a couple months ago? He's running for senator. I didn't see the announcement, but my mom did."
"You've got to be kidding." Harley's face showed disgust.
"The incumbent had a stroke," Kim continued. "With elections six months away the party had to scramble to find a 'suitable' candidate, one they thought could beat Jack Myers." She used air quotes to emphasize the adjective used by the papers to describe the district attorney, but Kim's expression made it clear that she found nothing suitable about him.
The waiter who'd been shooed away earlier came back bearing gifts. "You're going to need something to soak up that alcohol, girlfriend," she said to Harley with a wink, as she removed spicy wings, spinach avocado dip, and tortilla chips from a large, round tray and placed them on the table.
"When it came to taking care of customers, you were always the best. Guys, this is Lisa. Lisa, my friends Jayda and Kim. Right after getting hired, she took this clueless green thing under her fairy wings and taught me everything I know about giving good service."
"I taught her the basics," Lisa said. "Her naturally flirty nature and Midwestern charm did the rest, brought out the big tips and kept customers coming back."
"You gave me the lowdown on the cute new customer in my station. Jesse," she explained to Jayda and Kim. "Now that was a tip, my biggest and best by far. I always say if we get married, both she and my mother will give me away."
"How's he doing?" Lisa's voice lowered and was filled with concern.
"He's in prison," Harley deadpanned. "So despite his attempts to convince me otherwise, he's pretty fucked up."
"Of course. That was dumb. Sorry."
"No, it wasn't. It was a perfectly legitimate question. But hearing some news about the man who helped put him there just put me in a really bad mood."
"Well, food always makes me feel better. So what can I get you ladies? It's on the house. And don't say salad. This is a steakhouse. We serve real food here."
"I'm fine," Kim said.
"This will do for me," Jayda added, picking up a wing.
Harley looked at Lisa. "I think we're good."
"Got it." Lisa dropped the order pad into her pocket. "Three porterhouses coming up."
Kim watched Lisa walk away, then looked at Harley. "I like her."
Harley crossed her arms as vibes of all kinds of pissed off transmitted from her person. "What are we going to do?"
"About what?"
"About Grey, the judge, the denied appeal, our guys rotting in prison, the fucked-up system, take your pick. We've got to do something, Kim! What?"
"She's tried everything, Harley," Jayda said, with a calming touch on Harley's arm. "Formed WHIP, organized our protests, kept this fight in the media, hired great lawyers. What else can she do? What else can any of us do?"
Harley wouldn't back down. "We've got to fight. I waited a lifetime for somebody like Jesse, and I'll be damned if I let an A-hole like Grey ruin my happily ever after. And I'll be double-damned if I sit back while Grey climbs the political ladder on my boyfriend's back."
"Harley's right, Jayda. We can't quit." Kim ran a weary hand through the new pixie haircut she'd had cut extra short and was still getting used to. "I don't have the energy for it right now, but give me a few days, maybe a week. It didn't work for Kendall, but I'll talk to my attorneys about working on your guy's appeals."
"Pro bono?" Harley asked. "We sure as hell can't afford an attorney. Mom's medical bills take every penny I have, and a few that I don't."
"I don't know if our family could afford them, either," Jayda said. "Maybe we can write to one of those nonprofit groups, like the Innocence Project, or work with a public defender to get our guys a new trial."
"Fuck that," Harley spat, throwing back a shot of Jack, or Mr. Daniels, as she sometimes called her liquor of choice.
Jayda frowned. "But you just said —"
"That we've got to keep fighting. I know. But not through the system. It's broken. It doesn't work. We've got to try something else."
Kim's expression was a mixture of wariness and weariness. "Okay, Harley the Houdini. What do you suggest?"
"I don't know. But the three of us need to put our heads together and figure out how to whip, pun intended, Grey's wannabe senator ass."
"But how?" Jayda echoed. "He's got money, power, status, everything! What do we have?"
"Each other," Harley retorted.
"The truth," Kim added, renewed strength in her voice.
"Determination," Harley continued. "My mom says that where there's a will, there is always a way."
Jayda's eyes lit up. "My grandmother Alma changed the phrase 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,' to 'earth has no blessing like a woman born.' "
Kim smiled at Jayda. "Your grandmother sounds like a wise woman."
"Yes, very wise. Wisdom we sure could use right about now."
"I say we toast to continuing our fight, getting justice for our men by any means necessary." Harley held up her glass. "To justice for Jesse."
Jayda raised hers, too. "To justice for Nicky and Daniel."
"To justice for Kendall!" Kim lifted her glass. The women downed their drinks.
When Kim had arrived at the restaurant, she felt the fight was over. Upon leaving she knew one thing for sure: it had only just begun.
CHAPTER 2
Kim, Harley, and Jayda left the restaurant with full stomachs but with no real plan to do what the courts had not: get justice for all. However, the next day Kim read about a Saturday rally planned for Grey in Edgefield, Kansas, his hometown. A few phone calls, text messages, and several emails later a protest had been thrown together to coincide with the event. That morning Jayda, her mother Anna, aunt Lucy, sister Teresa, and sister-in-law Crystal headed to the community center where every second Saturday of the month WHIP meetings were held. Though they'd eaten breakfast, she carried a container of mini gorditas de buevos, masa cakes stuffed with chili-spiced eggs. Abuela had insisted.
"We're only going to Kansas City, Grandma," Jayda laughingly told her. "Not El Paso."
To which her grandmother responded, "A hungry stomach will growl in either place."
"Ha! So true, Grandma. Te amo."
The women piled into Lucy's roomy Ford Expedition and headed toward Interstate 35 and the State Line Community Center, just over the state line from Kansas into Missouri. They all wore bright yellow cotton t-shirts with the WHIP acronym across the organization's logo, a whip breaking open handcuffs on the front, and the spelled-out acronym on the back — Women Helping Innocent Prisoners. The group had voted on yellow as their color based on an old long-lost love classic from the seventies by Tony Orlando and Dawn.
"What are we going to be doing exactly?"
Aunt Lucy's stereo was programmed to her favorite Tejano music but when Lucy's sister, Anna, asked the question, she turned it down.
Even though the music was low, Jayda leaned forward so the two up front could hear her clearly, pushing thick locks of shiny black hair away from her heart-shaped face as she perched on the seat's edge. "Making protest signs for the rally."
"How many do you think will show up?" Crystal, Jayda's sister-in-law, asked the question while scrolling through her cell phone.
Jayda shrugged. "Hard to say. There's over a hundred members in the group, but we only average around twenty or thirty at the monthly meetings. Some members are like you guys, depending on someone who goes regularly to keep you informed."
"I work most Saturdays," Lucy said in defense.
"I'm usually helping Rick," Crystal said. "Or visiting Daniel."
"I know, guys. Just kidding."
Jayda knew how hard her family worked. Lucy and Anna's company, Great Housekeeping, had allowed for the purchase of homes and put kids through school. Crystal had been a stay-at-home mom, babysitting Jayda's daughter Alejandra while taking care of her three, until her husband, Daniel, and Jayda's boyfriend, Nicky, had gotten locked up. Without them, her husband's successful auto detailing business floundered. Crystal was forced into the workforce; began working part-time for her older brother, an ex-Marine with a private catering business, who had honed his skills while serving in Iraq.
"Crystal, are you working with Rick full-time, now? His business is really taking off."
"Not officially, but yes, lately I've been working a lot. Guess word on his strong work ethic and skills as a chef is getting around. He catered a dinner party fund-raiser a few months ago, for a city council member. Since then he's gotten several calls from political figures and organizations wanting him to cater their events. He wants me to go full-time, but I don't want to burden Alma with all of the kids."
Alma, the seventy-five-year old Sanchez family matriarch, was the undisputed boss and resident babysitter-in-a-pinch.
"Mama raised seven kids by herself," Anna responded. "I'm sure she can handle yours."
"Maybe, but right now I want to stay part-time. So he's looking for another part-timer to pick up the slack."
"To answer your question, Aunt Lucy, I don't know how many will be protesting with us today. I'm expecting a good crowd, though. Most of the time we feel so helpless, with our hands tied and nothing we can do. So even holding a sign in protest feels good, because at least we're doing something."
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Stiletto Justice"
by .
Copyright © 2018 Camryn King.
Excerpted by permission of KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.