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    21 Weeks: Week 1
    21 Weeks: Week 1
    21 Weeks: Week 1
    Ebook61 pages49 minutes

    21 Weeks: Week 1

    By R.A. LaShea

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Beck Nash arrives in the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department’s Homicide division with a shaky reputation and a lot to prove. Her first moments a disaster, she gets the chance to redeem herself with her first murder investigation and a sympathetic new partner.

    Trying to adjust to the mold, and no idea how she’s going to adapt her questionable investigative techniques to her new position, Beck's only goal is to make it to week’s end. But as shocking as the first day of her first week in Homicide turns out, it will be nothing compared to her last.

    21 Weeks is a fast-paced police procedural thriller series that ramps up in intensity with each victim that falls until its explosive final week.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRiley LaShea
    Release dateJul 31, 2015
    ISBN9781311599216
    21 Weeks: Week 1
    Author

    R.A. LaShea

    R.A. LaShea is a pen name of author Riley LaShea. Under this name, LaShea writes police procedural/thriller 21 Weeks.

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      Book preview

      21 Weeks - R.A. LaShea

      21 Weeks

      WEEK 1

      …

      R.A. LaShea

      21 Weeks: Week 1

      Copyright 2015 R.A. LaShea

      Smashwords Edition

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, in any form, without written permission of the author. Thank you for supporting the author’s rights and buying an authorized edition of this e-book.

      Visit http://www.lasheathrillers.com/sign-up/ to sign up for the 21 Weeks mailing list.

      CONTENTS

      1

      2

      3

      4

      5

      6

      7

      8

      9

      Week 2 Teaser

      1 - Metro Homicide - Monday, 8:59 a.m.

      They could question her every other ability, but no one could say Beck didn’t know how to take a punch. Leaning into it when most people would lean away, she let it connect with her cheekbone instead of her temple. Carrying the unfortunate side effect of being twice as painful, it did have the practical benefit of allowing her to remain conscious and on her feet after a hit that would have put most anyone on the floor.

      Coming back with a right hook, she found the soft fabric of a pin-striped shirt, holding her opponent in place as her knuckles sank into a torso softened with age. Ribs bending, but not breaking, beneath her fist, she was confident it still hurt like hell.

      Three quick jabs took the wind out of Bishop, and Beck was yanked along as he stumbled backward.

      What in the hell is going on here? The barked question nearly drowned out Bishop’s hissed expletive as he met the corner of Beck’s new desk.

      Recognizing the voice, Beck didn’t need to recognize it to know who was doing the asking. Plenty of witnesses standing around, everyone else knew to just let it play out, so it didn’t carry over into their day-to-day. Only one person was going to have anything to say.

      That’s enough.

      Dodging a last poorly-thrown punch, Beck pushed off Bishop’s chest and out of range as Lieutenant Martinez stepped between them, arms thrusting out to keep them on their respective sides. Feeling the drip start, she reached up to catch the trail of blood beneath her nose. A few broken blood vessels. Nothing major. The important thing was not letting her ass get handed to her on day one. She would never recover from that in a room like this.

      What is this? Martinez asked, and Bishop glanced off toward an interview room, as anxious as Beck was, apparently, to be the one to do the talking. You’ve got thirty seconds. One of you better tell me what the hell happened.

      Three minutes ago…

      One should never trust a precinct that smelled like cotton candy.

      As far as Beck knew, no one ever said that, but it seemed prudent advice as she turned down the bright, updated hallway of the Metro police station and the cloying scent assaulted her.

      Passing the culprit, a young boy going to town on a bright pink sucker as his mother dragged him along by the hand, Beck got reprieve from the smell only as she went through the open department door. Though, all eyes turning her way as she walked in, she got the feeling it was open to her only by direct order.

      Hey, Princess. Lost Barbies are reported down the hall.

      Snorted laughter following the statement, Beck thought it rather undeserved. Heckle weak at best, she was a little disappointed. She, frankly, expected more out of them. These were, after all, the seasoned detectives, the ones with the years of experience, who should have been hardened by all they had seen. She wasn’t expecting comedic genius, but a little effort would have been nice.

      Gray tiles thudding beneath her shoes, she could feel the gazes follow her across the room. She had walked this walk way too many times. Into stations. Into crime scenes. Down cell blocks. Part runway, part death row, it carried the uncomfortable attention of both.

      I’m returning actually. Her fist perched over the Formica surface of the heckler’s desk. "Here’re your balls. Your wife said you could have

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