Mystery Writers of America Presents Vengeance
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
When a different kind of justice is needed---swift, effective, and personal---a new type of avenger must take action. VENGEANCE features new stories by bestselling crime writers including Lee Child, Michael Connelly, Dennis Lehane, and Karin Slaughter, as well as some of today's brightest rising talents.
The heroes in these stories include a cop who's seen too much, a woman who has been pushed too far, or just an ordinary person doing what the law will not. Some call them vigilantes, others claim they are just another brand of criminal.
Edited and with an introduction by Lee Child, these stories reveal the shocking consequences when men and women take the law into their own hands.
Full list of contributors:
Dreda Say Mitchell
Janice Law Trecker
goose bumps she felt beneath her sleeves revealed itself in her voice. THAT AFTERNOON, DIANE’S cell pinged as she strapped on her seat belt. She pulled it from her purse and saw a new message on the screen. From Mark again. He couldn’t call or even e-mail like a regular adult. He was like a teenager with the texting. Mindy in Seattle so I’m mister mom this week. Any chance you’re willing to meet Nicole? Know it’s a lot to ask. Trying to find a way to be friends. Nicole. At least Mark and
look at the clock on the wall: 9:05. “Between ten and two, they said.” “Sometimes they come early.” He swigged half the bottle. “When do they come early?” “Sometimes.” “Name one time.” He shrugged, leaned against the counter, drank some more orange juice. Watching him suck down the orange juice, she was surprised to remember that she’d loved him this past week. Hated him too, of course, but there was still love there. He wasn’t a terrible guy, Alan. He could be funny, and he once flew in
deep, it took a man’s life. Farther back in the grove sat the liquor still — all copper tubing and barrels holding the mash being heated by a fire tended by Luther’s dad. Nearby, a pair of men sat on wooden milking stools. They were seventy if they were a day, and over time they’d become almost mirror images of each other, both white-headed, grizzled, and skinny in overalls and white dress shirts. One filled the mason jars from the still. The second screwed on the lids, wiped off the jars, and
lawyers, going to a bail bondsman in a part of town June had not known existed. There was an entirely different language to this type of life, a Latin that defied their various English degrees: ex officio, locus delicti, cui bono. They stayed awake all night reading law books, studying cases, finding precedents that, when presented to the lawyer, were dispelled within seconds of their meeting. And still, they went back to the books every night, studying, preparing, defending. There is no bond
brought Maria back with a sharp, unwelcome ache. Aware of her own innocence, she had been as fearless as the boy, and she had paid for her carelessness when a motorcycle roared up to her limousine and the pillion rider loosed a burst of fire. The assailants had expected the General to be in the car, and though he’d escaped, he had known that his days were numbered. Eventually, he fled north, where he had contacts, protection, assistance of useful kinds, and money. He hadn’t gone into either the