Justice for Daesha

  Justice for Daesha (Police and Fire: Operation Alpha)

  Bluegrass Bravery Book 4

  Deanndra Hall

  Contents

  Foreword

  Foreword

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  About the author …

  Also by Deanndra Hall

  More Special Forces: Operation Alpha World Books

  Books by Susan Stoker

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  © 2019 ACES PRESS, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this work may be used, stored, reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher except for brief quotations for review purposes as permitted by law.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy.

  Dear Readers,

  Welcome to the Police and Fire: Operation Alpha Fan-Fiction world!

  If you are new to this amazing world, in a nutshell the author wrote a story using one or more of my characters in it. Sometimes that character has a major role in the story, and other times they are only mentioned briefly. This is perfectly legal and allowable because they are going through Aces Press to publish the story.

  This book is entirely the work of the author who wrote it. While I might have assisted with brainstorming and other ideas about which of my characters to use, I didn’t have any part in the process or writing or editing the story.

  I’m proud and excited that so many authors loved my characters enough that they wanted to write them into their own story. Thank you for supporting them, and me!

  READ ON!

  Xoxo

  Susan Stoker

  In memory of B.H.W.

  We have not forgotten, and we never will.

  Someday, somehow,

  we’ll discover who did this to you.

  And they will pay.

  About the book

  He’s always dated the “perfect” girls. He’s never met a girl as perfect as her before.

  “Hear her story,” his younger brother, Jack, says. Amos doesn’t want to, especially when he discovers the tall, beautiful physical therapist was a wartime amputee. That was before the Kentucky Department of Criminal Investigations agent hears about her sister’s unsolved murder. When Amos agrees to go over the files, Daesha Wilkerson is thrilled. Maybe she’ll finally get the justice her sister deserves.

  That fresh look brings a new clue and a new piece of evidence, thanks to San Antonio FBI Agent Cruz Livingston. Everything points to three brothers and their politician father. What Amos suspects is outlandish. Perverted. Unlikely. And would explain everything, including why their father would want Dorinda Wilkerson Blackmon dead. When Amos starts getting too close, the threats begin. It’s easy to protect her from the warm spot next to her in bed, but they can’t stay there all the time, and all it takes is one instant with his back turned for her to disappear.

  He was crazy for her body, but she stole his heart, in the sack and out. Secrets, love, business, politics, and erotic pleasures collide in Bluegrass Bravery: Justice for Daesha. It’s up to Amos to find her. He has to. She’s perfect for him.

  Foreword

  On July 16, 1996, a man returned to his soon-to-be ex-wife’s home to drop off their sons. It was a warm summer, and her home in rural western Kentucky was closed up tight, the air conditioning running hard.

  But what he found inside stunned him. She lay dead in the bathroom in a half-filled bathtub, having suffered from strangulation and blunt-force trauma administered with an antique syrup bottle. Sheriff’s department and Kentucky State Police investigators found no signs of forced entry, indicating she had known her attacker. It appeared she had fought to her death, her nails broken off into the quick in her struggle. DNA testing proved futile.

  Months went by, and another crime came to light―a local woman and a man from Chicago were arrested on a “murder for hire” conspiracy, supposedly to have her killed at the behest of her ex-husband. The husband argued that they were trying to extort money from him. The man from Chicago, hired by the local woman, claimed he wasn’t planning to kill the victim, but instead was trying to extort money from the husband. All three wound up doing time in prison, but no connection was ever proven to the actual killing.

  She was a pillar of the community. Her parents had owned a string of popular restaurants, and she herself ran one her father had started that was wildly successful, as was the catering company it spawned. A member of the chamber of commerce, the tourism commission, and other civic organizations in her hometown of Paducah, her death was felt throughout our community.

  Sadly enough, no one has ever been arrested for the commission of this brutal slaying. To the dismay of her parents, her ex-husband took her two boys and moved to North Carolina, effectively keeping the parents from watching their slain daughter’s children grow up. Even sadder, her father died in 2015, never having seen his daughter receive the justice she deserved. Though the crime has been featured on several national television shows, the tips received following them never helped. To this date, there is a bench in front of the tourism office in Paducah that was donated in her memory and a hole in the hearts of Paducahans. If you say her name in town and someone doesn’t recognize it, it’s because they’re a “transplant.” If you’re a native, you ate at their restaurant, and later at her dad’s cafeteria, which he owned and operated until shortly before his death.

  On an interesting note, the family’s attorney, who worked tirelessly to help them as the days, weeks, and months wore on, succumbed to depression and completed suicide in the Land Between the Lakes National Recreation Area nearby. I’m familiar with the trail and many times have stopped at the spot where someone in his family placed a small wooden cross and planted a miniature rose bush.

  My greatest fear regarding this murder? That everyone who knew her or her family will soon be gone and there will be no one to solve this crime. I believe the murderer is out there among us. As a matter of fact, I’m sure of it.

  This book is based on the incidents described above; however, names, locations, and details have been changed to protect those involved. Any actual information used was gleaned from open and public records, as I have no personal knowledge of the case. I am not a law enforcement professional. I do, however, have the utmost respect for those men and women who protect us, so if any of my procedural details are erroneous, I apologize. This was written purely for entertainment, and I hope it is taken as such.

  Acknowledgments

  Eternal thanks to my faithful betas, Maggie and Tami, to my proofer, Emmy, and to Susan Stoker for allowing me to write in this world. It’s been enormous fun, and I’m so in love with these characters.

  Chapter 1

  He had to hand it to his little brother―Jack had done a great job of making sure the music selections were good ones. Sure, the bride had a hand in it, Amos knew, but there was just the right balance of hard-driving, fast dance tunes and slow, romantic ones. It was a shame he didn’t have anyone to dance with.

  “Having fun?”


  Amos nodded. “Sure.”

  “Oh, come on. There are plenty of single women here today. Find one and dance, brother,” Jack Fletcher scolded.

  “Jack, I―”

  “Don’t start. Just pick out somebody. I mean, look around. There are women all over the place. And I know you know how to dance.”

  “Boy, your bride sure doesn’t,” Amos said with a snicker.

  Jack chuckled and shrugged. “According to her upbringing, it was a sin, so she never learned. Her parents are over there having a heart attack because there’s dancing and we’ve got liquor. Good thing she doesn’t give a shit what they think or the wedding would’ve been off.”

  “Seriously?” Jack nodded to Amos. “Wow. So she never danced?”

  “Nope. Never got to go to a prom or homecoming dance. Never. This is all new to her. Considering that, I think she’s doing a pretty good job.”

  “You taught her a little before tonight, didn’t you?”

  Jack nodded. “Yeah. We learned the first dance. I didn’t want her to be embarrassed later when we looked at the videos. And you know I love to dance, so it was fun to teach her.”

  “Yeah.” Amos scanned the crowd. Jack was right. There were women everywhere, but he didn’t know which ones were attached and which were single. “Oh, I meant to ask you, the girl who sang―who is she?”

  “That’s Matt’s neighbor, Daesha. Last name’s Wilkerson, I think. We were looking for somebody and he mentioned her. She jumped right on it. Wouldn’t let us pay her. Seems like a really nice person. You should go over and introduce yourself.”

  Amos took a long look at the young woman. Even though she was a little heavier than he usually liked, she was pretty, her blond hair wavy and shiny. He’d noticed that she had odd light green eyes that were a shade he’d never seen before. Just before she’d started the song, she’d smiled, and he’d noticed she had one crooked tooth, but it was kinda cute.

  Girls who weren’t perfect weren’t usually his “thing”. He’d always been the best-looking guy in the room, the one all the women wanted, and he’d always had his picking choice. Yeah, and look what that got you, he told himself. Every last one he’d gotten involved with had ripped him up, either by leaving him for a man who had more money or by cheating on him. Hell, he’d rather they leave than cheat. Leaving him made him sad. Cheating on him just pissed him off.

  “Oh, I think I’ll just stand here and―”

  “Amos! Go over there and talk to her! Ask her to dance and choose a slow song to dance to.”

  “Yeah, all romantic and―”

  “No. There’s a reason, but you need to meet her first. Don’t worry about that. Just go do it. I’ve got to get back to Aleta before she has a meltdown. She thinks she’s going to spill something on that dress. I begged her to buy something dark, but she insisted on that weird blush color. I’m not about to tell her, but when you first glance at her, it looks like she’s naked.”

  Amos laughed loudly. “Now that you mention it, she does!”

  Jack moved away, walking backwards, and mouthed, Go talk to her. Then he spun and headed back to Aleta.

  What have I got to lose? Amos asked himself and headed that direction. She was standing there alone, which he thought was particularly rude of Matt, but Jack had told him that Matt’s girlfriend, Tiki, was insanely jealous, so that was probably why he’d made himself scarce. Her champagne glass was almost empty. “Would you like a refill?”

  She spun and gasped as she did. “Oh! I didn’t see you there!”

  “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you. Just thought I’d offer to get you a refill. Champagne, right?”

  “Yeah, but I can get it.” She wasn’t looking at him, just kind of looking through him, and Amos thought that was odd.

  “I don’t mind, really. I’ve got to get myself another beer. Daesha, right?”

  At the sound of her name, her head pivoted to face him. “Yeah. Do I know you?”

  “No. I’m Jack’s brother, Amos.”

  “Oh. Nice to meet you.” Instead of waiting for him to extend a hand, she held out hers, and Amos took it. “He’s a nice guy, and Aleta’s a sweetheart.”

  “Yeah, our family thinks a lot of her. She’s made my brother very happy, and I think he’s doing the same for her.” He hadn’t realized he was still holding her hand until she pulled hers away.

  “I hope so. Horrible what happened to her.”

  Amos nodded. “Yes. It was. So hang on and let me get those drinks. Be right back.” Taking her glass with a nod, he headed to the bar. In a minute, he was back to her. “Here ya go.”

  “Thanks.” She took the glass and stood there, not speaking to him, just looking out across the dance floor.

  “Would you like to dance?” Amos asked. There was a Keith Urban song playing, Little Bit of Everything, and Amos loved the little calypso rhythm in it.

  “I don’t think so, but thanks.” Wow. Turned down cold. He decided maybe he’d just go find somewhere else to stand and was about to walk away when she asked, “So what do you do? Are you a trooper like Jack?”

  “No. I’m KDCI.” Her brow furrowed in puzzlement. “Kentucky Department of Criminal Investigations. I’m an agent for them.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, we’re part of the Attorney General’s office.”

  “So you’re not really law enforcement,” she said and took a sip of champagne.

  “Yeah, we’re definitely law enforcement.”

  “Oh, wow. Both of you work in law enforcement. So what do you …” She stopped abruptly as the music changed to a Brett Young song, In Case You Didn’t Know. “Um, so about that dance. I think I changed my mind. I think I’d like to.”

  “Uh, okay. Here.” He reached for her glass, set it on the table behind them with his beer, and took her hand. As he led her to the dance floor, he caught Jack’s eye, and his little brother winked at him.

  It was nice and slow. They started out with his left arm around her waist, her right one around his neck, and their other hands clasped together in a traditional way, but the song was beautiful, and before too long, Amos turned loose of her hand and wrapped his other arm around her waist. She did the same with her left arm around his neck. They weren’t pressed together, but it was comfortable, and Amos was enjoying himself. “So what do you do?”

  “I work at the VA clinic in Louisville.”

  “Jack says you’re Matt’s neighbor. Do you live in Shepherdsville too?” She nodded. “I’m in Elizabethtown.”

  “Near Jack?”

  “Not too far. Our parents are there too. Are your people from Shepherdsville?”

  “Nah. Anchorage. I moved to be outside the city.”

  “So what do you do at the VA?”

  “I’m a physical therapist.”

  “Nice job. Helping people.”

  “I enjoy it.” The song ended and so did their dance. “That was fun. Thanks for asking me.”

  “Thanks for saying yes.”

  She smiled. “Could you babysit my glass for me while I run to the restroom?”

  “Sure. Be right here when you come back.”

  “Thanks.” He watched as she walked away and he couldn’t help but notice something different about her gait.

  “So, whaddya think?” a voice asked and Amos jumped.

  “What the hell? You startled the shit out of me!”

  “Sorry,” Jack said, grinning. “Well? Isn’t she nice?”

  “She is.”

  “She’s a physical therapist,” Jack pointed out.

  “I know. She said she was,” Amos fired back.

  “You should talk to her some more. She has quite a story.”

  Amos stared at him for a few seconds. “When she walked away, there was something―”

  “Don’t have a fit, okay?”

  “About what?”

  “She’s an amputee. IED in Afghanistan.” Amos rolled his eyes. “And she had this radical treatment for PTSD that took
care of that. And she’s got a state-of-the-art prosthetic. You didn’t even realize, did you?”

  “Jack, damn it, why would you―”

  “Stop. Look at the person, Amos. Stop being so fucking shallow and look at her. Really look. Talk to her. Hear her story.” Before Amos had a chance to argue, Jack turned and started away.

  “Fuck you,” Amos tossed at him quietly.

  “What was that about?” he heard a feminine voice say and turned to see Daesha standing there.

  “Nothing. Brother stuff. So, it’s getting late, and I should probably―”

  Her gaze bored into him. “He told you, didn’t he?”

  Amos decided to play dumb. “Told me what?”

  Rolling her eyes, Daesha sighed. “Yeah. He did. It’s okay. Whatever. Thanks for the drink and the dance.” He didn’t get a chance to say anything else before she turned and started to walk away.

  Look at the person, Amos. Stop being so fucking shallow and look at her. Really look. Talk to her. Hear her story. He heard his brother’s voice in his head and couldn’t stop himself when he called out, “Wait!”

  She spun and glared at him. “This is where you say, ‘It doesn’t matter. I don’t care about that.’ Because you do. You will. You wouldn’t believe some of the things guys have said to me. I get it. Nobody wants to fuck a woman with a stump.” For the second time, she wheeled and headed away.

  Amos bolted toward her, passed her, and spun to face her, stopping her in her tracks. “Don’t go. We can just―”