Vicious Vendetta - A Jack West Novel (Jack West Mystery Book 3) by Deanna King

Author:Deanna King [King, Deanna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Rose Writing
Published: 2021-10-27T16:00:00+00:00

Jonell read the letter, and the wineglass slipped from her hand, bounced off the couch, and hit the variegated terra-cotta shaded Spanish tile. An expensive Persian rug soaked up the lines of red wine under the coffee table and she gasped bring her trembling hand up to cover her mouth.

CHAPTER TWENTY

As if someone dumped a barrel of ice water over her head, she jumped, the envelope and contents slipped off her lap, fluttering to the floor. Pulling her purse closer, with one hand she dug for her cell phone. Panic-stricken, she kept digging deeper for a phone that had disappeared into oblivion. Her fingers wrapped around the phone, her hand shaking and her eyes filling with tears; she hit her contact list. Scrolling, she hit the number in time as tears blurred her vision. She prayed, no voice mail, please answer, please.

“Jack West,” he answered.

“Jack, oh, Jack, I—it’s Jonell, Jonell Simone, I, oh my God, Jack.” She stopped talking as she broke, crying heaving sobs in Jack’s ear.

“Jonell, Jonell, are you hurt, what the hell is going on?” Jack jumped from his recliner and muted his TV.

With a shaky voice, she sniffed, getting her tears and panic under control so she could speak. “Jack, give me a second. I’m not hurt, but scared as hell. Stay with me, please; I need to check my doors to make sure I locked them.”

His face formed a frown of worry she could not see. “I’m here, Jonell, and I’m not hanging up.”

She was scaring the crap right out of him. Alarmed enough to head to his bedroom and grab his shoulder holster. Taking out his gun, he checked the clip and the chamber, and then he took the replacement clip and shoved it in his pocket. Snatching his belt and his waistband holster, he slipped them on and holstered his weapon. Yanking his HPD windbreaker off a hanger and getting his badge, he rushed back to his living room, his cell phone still glued to his ear.

“Jack,” Jonell half-whispered into the phone. “Are you still there?”

“Jonell, what is going on, Lord God Almighty, I’m ready to call the National Guard, have them meet me at your house.” His heart rate increased with every word.

“Jack,” she began as she sat down, glancing at the floor where the letter and the contents lay. “No, don’t come over.” Her tears subsided, her voice calmer. “Let me brief you about my situation. Then can we meet at the station in the morning, early?”

“First, thanks for taking five years off my stinking life. Now, tell me what the hell caused you to go hysterical, because you may need to reassure me you don’t need me to call out the Marines or HPD Swat Team to save you.” He chuckled, but it did not sound like a fun chuckle.

“Jack, I got a letter and, well, there are pictures of me in my house. I can tell by the clothes I’m wearing they were taken recently.

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