1St & Dead

Contents

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter Forty-Nine

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty-One

Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Three

Chapter Fifty-Four

Chapter Fifty-Five

Acknowledgments

My inspiration to write 1st and Dead was the result of my debut mystery novel, Murder on the Opinion Page. This is the exciting sequel. I hope to write many more. My main characters, Dan Kawowski and Jane Dockery, are such interesting people that I had to continue writing about them and their adventures. I want to thank all my relatives, friends, and mystery readers who attended my book signings and encouraged me to keep writing. I also want to thank two of my favorite mystery writers, Laura Lippmann and Mary Higgins Clark, for inspiring me with their works. I’m also inspired by our US armed forces in Iraq and Afghanistan and by all Americans engaged in the war on terror. Keep up the good fight!

Prologue

He was hunting for his car keys and never even noticed his attacker. He pressed the unlock button on his keypad and had just reached to open the car door when he felt the knife strike repeatedly, deep into his kidneys and back. Blood spurted out of his body, down into his pants, and into his shoes. Each thrust of the knife felt like a huge electric shock.

He staggered and gasped for breath. He’d managed to get the door open slightly. Maybe he could still get into the car to escape his attacker, he thought, but the door seemed frozen in place. With a last gasp, he whirled around to face his assailant and tried to grab the slashing knife, but he felt the life drain from him. In the final, fading light that remained, he recognized the man’s face.

You … you son of a— he stammered and slowly sank to his knees. He collapsed into a pool of blood on the pavement and heard footsteps running away. With his last remaining strength, he traced something on the pavement with a bloody finger. Why me? he thought. It was his last thought.

Chapter One

Carlos Rivera was a mastermind at smuggling illegal aliens into the United States from Mexico and other countries. He’d done it for a number of years and had amassed a small fortune leading illegals across miles of hot Arizona desert—all while working under the guise of a real estate professional. He was surprised when he answered the mysterious phone call at his luxurious home in Nogales, Mexico.

This is Carlos Rivera. How can I assist you?

You come highly recommended, Mr. Rivera. We need your help in getting some people and equipment secretly transported into the United States.

Rivera feared it was a setup. I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a real estate broker. How did you obtain my phone number?

C’mon, Mr. Rivera, don’t play games with us. We know all about you and your smuggling operation. We’re not amateurs either. I’d like to meet with you—in person if you feel uncomfortable on the phone. We can certainly make it worth your while, and I know you don’t come cheap.

Rivera was cautious but curious. I suppose I could meet with you, but remember, I only sell real estate, nothing more. How will I be able to identify you?

The caller laughed. We already know what you look like.

The mysterious voice made Rivera uneasy, but the make-it-worth-your-while remark proved to be too alluring. He decided to take the bait. Are you familiar with Pepe’s, the coffee bar in downtown Nogales? he asked.

Very.

I’ll meet you there tomorrow morning at nine o’clock. How will I recognize you?

Don’t worry about that. I’ll recognize you. Goodbye.

Rivera clicked off his cell phone and suddenly felt very nervous. He wiped drops of perspiration off his forehead. Had his lucrative smuggling operation finally been compromised? Were US Border Patrol and government agents ready to swoop in and arrest him? He’d always covered his operations well. The bribes he paid certain officials to look the other way had always protected him.

He thought about the one hundred thousand in cash he would demand in advance. The lure of money was overpowering. I’ll go, he decided. Besides, the coffee bar was a safe place with plenty of people around. He’d conducted a number of business transactions there. Nothing could possibly happen to him, he thought. He reached for his Glock on the table, checked the magazine, and gently placed it into his briefcase under some papers. He closed the case and wondered.

Who are these people?

Chapter Two

The slender woman with the flaming red hair and brilliant smile put her fingers to her lips and motioned to Sheriff Dan Kawowski’s secretary, Penny Dowie, not to give her presence away. She then walked slowly to his open office door and watched him for a few seconds while he typed away on his computer keyboard, completely oblivious to her. He still reminded her of an older George Clooney—not bad-looking for a sixty-one-year-old, she thought.

I’m baaaaaaaack.

He looked up, slowly shook his head, and smiled. There stood Jane Dockery, beaming in a blue business suit. He thought she was the most beautiful sight in the whole world. His eyes could hardly take in the transformation from forensics intern to FBI agent. After about ten seconds, he finally got his body to react.

He jumped up and flew around his desk to greet and hug his dear friend. Jane, Jane, I can’t believe you’re back.

They embraced, and their lips brushed briefly. They both knew Miss Dowie was still watching through the office door.

I can’t believe you’re here in person. Where did eight months go? My gosh! Let me look at you, he said, holding her at arms length and surveying her sculpted body.

You look just fantastic.

Dan, you look great too. I missed you so much. I thought about you every day in training.

Was it as tough as you told me?

"It was both tough and fun. You gave me a good head start as your intern, Dan, so I was ready for the training. We had about thirty women in my class of two hundred. A couple had to drop out because of knee and back injuries, but most graduated. They assigned us all over the country, and I got the Denver main office—my first choice.

I’m so sorry I missed your graduation. I just couldn’t get away.

I understand, Dan. Would you believe I sold my old red VW? I made the trip here from Quantico in my new, light-blue Chevy Impala with a hemi engine. It looks like a rental car, but it can really go. I like it, but I kind of miss my slow Volks.

You wouldn’t have caught many criminals in that VW. Kawowski laughed. He hugged her again, this time noticing the hidden handgun holster under her jacket and the hard muscles of her biceps and arms. When do you have to report to Denver?

I’ve got a couple of days to kill yet. I’ll be working in the counterterrorism unit. She inspected his white shirt, blue tie, and shoulder patch that read Des Moines County Sheriff in bright blue lettering. Wow. Look at you, Dan—I mean, Sheriff Kawowski. I’m so proud of you. We make a great color combination, don’t we?"

They both laughed. He took her by the arm, introduced her to his secretary, and then asked her to sit down on his office sofa. He asked Miss Dowie to hold his calls, then closed the office door, eager to hear more about her training and assignments.

Jane, you wrote in your last letter that you hoped they’d assign you back here in Colorado. I’m so happy to have you back.

He sat down next to her, reached for her hand, and looked into her waiting blue eyes. Suddenly he took her into his arms, and they kissed passionately and hungrily for several minutes. He hadn’t held her for eight long months. The passion he had once felt for Lan Cao Ky now belonged to Jane. He held her tightly in his arms and didn’t want their embrace to end.

She pulled away and ended the kiss. I don’t want to get lipstick on your fancy white shirt.

He reached for a handkerchief in his pocket and wiped a bright red blotch from his lips.

Are you available for dinner tonight so we can talk about your training—and us? I also have a special surprise for you.

What surprise? What about us, Dan? I hate secrets.

We’ll discuss that tonight, Agent Dockery. I know a great restaurant that serves a fabulous stuffed Italian pork chop.

It’s a date, she said, laughing and remembering the giant killer hog he’d shot last year while a detective with DMPD. Do you still have nightmares about that giant porker, Dan?

Only when I see you, he said chuckling. When that big sucker bore down on me with those tusks, all I could think of was a nice pork chop on a stick.

Oh, Dan, I bet you were scared to death, she said, giggling.

They reminisced and joked about the days they had spent at the hog farm east of Des Moines, and then they both realized how lucky they were to escape the terrorists.

Dan, those terrorists came so close to hurting you, she said with a nervous shudder, goose bumps forming on her arms. Darling, I almost died when you were kidnapped by that creep Guy Braun and his cohorts. And then, that horrible shootout—I don’t know what I would have done if anything had happened to you.

Jane, you saved my life.

No, Harry Duncan saved both our bacons.

At the mere mention of Duncan’s name, they both roared with laughter over the antics of the World War II hero and super-sleuth from Coralville, Utah. It was Harry who had saved Dockery’s life when he shot a terrorist who had her in his gunsights.

How’s old Harry doing? she asked.

"The last I heard, he was still in Utah. There was a big article about him in Time Magazine about how he helped us break up the sleeper cell."

"I know. I read it at the academy. He sent me a letter inviting me to visit him when I got through training.

Are you going to?

Are you kidding? I think that old geezer had a crush on me. She smirked. I wrote and thanked him for saving us that night. He was definitely an eccentric old bird, but I’ll never forget him.

Me either, Kawowski said, shaking his head and turning reflective for a moment. You know, Jane, it really was murder on the opinion page for all those heroic people who were kidnapped and killed just for expressing their opinions in letters to the editor.

I would’ve loved to have known all of them, Dan. By the way, where is that jerk Mr. Braun—or whatever his real name is? Locked up these days?

Still in Guantanamo, I believe. He spilled the beans about a lot of their plans.

With or without waterboarding? she asked, smiling. It looks like I’ll be plunging headfirst into some of those leads real soon.

Jane, didn’t you know waterboarding is illegal? Kawowski winked. Well, enough talk about the terrorists. A lot has happened since you’ve been gone. You heard about Dixon joining the Big Eleven Conference?

I was absolutely shocked when I saw the announcement on ESPN. So were the others in my class. Just think, Dan, you’ll soon be able to watch your beloved Iowa Hawkeyes visit Dixon Stadium when they travel here to play Dixon.

I’m going to buy us season tickets, and we’re both going to dress up in black and gold. I think Dixon knew they’d be the twelfth team in the conference someday. They’ve been scheduling Big Eleven teams on their schedules for years.

Wait a minute, I’m a Dixon fan! She laughed. But why did they change the mascot and team name from the Fighting Peregrines to the Canaries? Were they crazy?

Some folks are really upset about it—some big boosters and especially the sportswriters and play-by-play announcers. They’ve really been complaining to the school president about the decision.

Gosh, somebody must have been paid off or something for agreeing to change the name like that. My classmates at the academy knew I went to Dixon and really ribbed me. Who in their right mind would name a football team the Canaries?

You know, there are the Toronto Blue Jays and St. Louis Cardinals, Kawowski said. "Why not the