High Stakes Crime: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (Shelby Nichols Adventure Book 15) Read online

  high stakes crime

  A SHELBY NICHOLS ADVENTURE

  Colleen Helme

  Copyright © 2021 by Colleen Helme.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  www.colleenhelme.com

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  All trademarks and brands referred to in this book are for illustrative purposes only, are the property of their respective owners and not affiliated with this publication in any way. Any trademarks are being used without permission, and the publication of the trademark is not authorized by, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  Book Cover Art by Damonza.com Copyright ©2021 by Colleen Helme

  High Stakes Crime/ Colleen Helme. -- 1st ed.

  ISBN 9798544925866

  Dedication

  To my Grandparents

  For your amazing examples of love and devotion throughout your lives. I’m so blessed to have known you!

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I’d like to start off by thanking Don for coming up with the great title for this book. It’s awesome and so are you!

  I’m so grateful for all of you who love Shelby as much as I do! Thanks for your support, encouragement, friendship, and great reviews You keep me writing.

  As always, a big, huge thanks to my daughter, Melissa. You are always willing to listen to my plot ideas and your input is invaluable.

  Thanks to my wonderful husband, Tom, for proofing the manuscript and for your insight—and also for believing in me, even when I struggle. Thanks to my awesome family for your continued encouragement, support, and belief in me. I love you all!

  A big thanks to Kristin Monson for editing this book and making it better. You are the best!

  I am so grateful to the talented Wendy Tremont King for bringing Shelby and the gang to life on audio. Thanks for sticking with me through fifteen books! You rock!

  And last but not least, to my Grandpa Chappell, who took me prospecting for gold. It was great fun, and I’ve never forgotten it!

  Shelby Nichols Adventure Series

  Carrots

  Fast Money

  Lie or Die

  Secrets that Kill

  Trapped by Revenge

  Deep in Death

  Crossing Danger

  Devious Minds

  Hidden Deception

  Laced in Lies

  Deadly Escape

  Marked for Murder

  Ghostly Serenade

  Dying Wishes

  High Stakes Crime

  Devil in a Black Suit ~ A Ramos Story

  A Midsummer Night’s Murder ~ A Shelby Nichols Novella

  Sand and Shadow Series

  Angel Falls

  Desert Devil (coming soon)

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  Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 1

  I held the gun in both hands and pulled the trigger, automatically squeezing my eyes shut. Opening them, I searched the target for a bullet hole and frowned, unhappy that I’d missed it again.

  Beside me, Dante Mitchell, my firearms instructor, shook his head and tapped my shoulder to get my attention. I took off my ear protectors, even though I could still hear his thoughts with them on. Of course, he didn’t know that I could read minds, but, since he said everything he was thinking, it didn’t really matter.

  “You can’t keep closing your eyes. How can you expect to hit anything with your eyes shut?”

  I couldn’t tell him that every time I pulled the trigger, the image of the man I’d killed popped into my head. It wasn’t the look of surprise on Jameson Beal’s face that bothered me. It was the blood. With each bullet that slammed into him, his body had jerked, spraying blood all over the place.

  For some reason, I hadn’t remembered any of that until I’d fired the gun today. Now that was all I could see. Damn. Before it slipped from my fingers, I set the gun on the counter and stepped away. “Could I take a break?”

  I heard his thoughts and tried not to cringe. He could hardly believe I’d ask for a break. Normally he yelled at his cadets for not following his instructions, but I wasn’t a cadet, so he couldn’t treat me the same way. But this was ridiculous.

  What was going on with me? Did I want to fail? Examining my face, he noticed the fine sheen of sweat on my upper lip and the pasty white coloring of my skin. Was I going to faint? He swore under his breath.

  Stepping beside me, he picked up the gun and removed the magazine before setting the gun and ammo on the counter. “Hold it together, Shelby. You are not fainting on me.”

  I blinked before straightening my spine. The command in his tone sent all thoughts of blood right out of my brain. “Of course I’m not going to faint.”

  Dante shook his head, but gently took my elbow and guided me out of the shooting range to a bench near the locker room. The cadet firearms class didn’t begin for another thirty minutes, so we had the place to ourselves. He sat beside me and gave me his undivided attention.

  “What’s going on?” I began to shake my head, but he stopped me with a dismissive growl. “No. You need to tell me, or I won’t be able to clear you to work in the police department—ever again. You understand? Your fate rests in my hands. So spill it.”

  “Wow… you’re kind of bossy.”

  As the firearms instructor at the police academy, Dante didn’t have a soft spot in his body, and I wasn’t just talking about his toned physique. Authority rolled off him in waves, and the fact that he was even talking to me nicely surprised me.

  His lips twisted, but he smoothed them out and narrowed his gaze, not wanting me to know that I’d almost made him smile. That gave me the courage to look up into his deep brown eyes, taking in his raised brow and pursed lips.

  With his dark, creamy skin, shaved head, and taut muscles under a tight black tee, he was more than a little intimidating. But I’d been dealing with a mob boss and a hitman for more than a year and a half, so I was used to macho-men.

  Besides that, after listening to Dante’s mind, I knew he had a grudging respect for me. When Chief Winder had told him I was coming in for firearms instruction, he’d read up on me and found out that I’d killed a man in the line of duty, even though I wasn’t a cop.

  Right now, it bothered Dante that I sat beside him, clenching my hands together so they wouldn’t shake. “I’m waiting.”

  “Okay, okay.”
I wiped the sweat off my brow, surprised that firing a gun had brought it all back. It had been nearly three months since I’d killed Beal, and, outside of my dreams, this was the first time it had truly shaken me. “I don’t know why shooting that gun brought it all back.”

  I glanced his way. “You know I killed a man a few months ago. But it was either him or me.” I didn’t add that I’d acted out of sheer desperation to save Ramos’s life after he’d already been shot trying to save mine.

  “What did you see? Just now… in your mind?”

  “I saw the bullets hit him and… all the blood. I’d forgotten about that part until I started shooting the gun. It must have ‘triggered’ the memory.” I smiled at my pun, but he didn’t think it was funny, so I dropped it. “I’m not a fan of blood… and that was just… the worst.”

  “So it was thinking about the blood?”

  I nodded, but I didn’t add that it wasn’t just Beal’s blood that had gotten to me. There was blood all over Ramos, too. So much blood had poured out of him, that he’d nearly died. He was fine now, so what was wrong with me? I thought I’d dealt with this, and now it was like it had happened yesterday.

  “Hmm…” Dante was thinking that I’d managed to put off coming to the shooting range for at least three, maybe four, weeks since my first appointment. I’d gotten good at pushing that memory away—until today. He’d helped several people who had gone through this before. It took some of them a long time to get over killing someone, and using a gun again was actually part of the process.

  “This is what I want you to do,” he began. “We’re going back onto the shooting range. You will load the gun and get ready to fire. Then I want you to look at the target and think of it as nothing more than what it is—a piece of paper. It has no face, no body, and especially, no blood. It’s just a target. If you keep your eyes open and your mind focused, that’s all you’ll see.”

  I raised a skeptical brow, but kept my mouth shut, knowing it wouldn’t do any good to question him. “If you say so.”

  “I do.” He stood and stepped away, so I had to follow him back to my spot at the shooting range. After slipping on his gear, he took his position beside me and folded his arms across his chest. Letting out a sigh, I slipped my protective glasses back on, along with my ear protectors, and picked up the gun. I loaded it, flipped the safety off, and positioned my feet in the correct firing stance.

  I raised the gun to fire and sighted down the barrel at the target, opening my eyes extra wide. I moved my finger to the trigger, slowly let out a breath, and pulled. The gun fired, and I fought against the image of Beal that seemed burned into my brain, instead, focusing on the target in front of me.

  “Again,” Dante said.

  I repeated the action, firing several more rounds until the magazine was empty. Lowering the gun, I emptied the magazine and set it down. Dante pushed the button for the target to come toward us and examined it.

  “Well, at least you hit it this time,” he said, noting two bullet holes along the bottom edge. “Let’s go again.”

  He sent the target back, and I reloaded the gun, repeating the process. After a few more magazine rounds, I had finally managed to keep my eyes open and my hands steady. Dante brought the target back to us, and, this time, elation rolled over me. I’d actually hit the center circle a few times.

  “Better.” Dante glanced my way, thinking it had been worth it to continue. “That’s enough for today, but I’d like to see you back here tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow? So soon?”

  “Yes. I don’t want you to fall into your old pattern of avoidance, and the more you get used to handling a gun, the easier it will be to keep your head clear. When you pick up a weapon, your mind needs to be focused, or it won’t do you any good.”

  I nodded my agreement, even though I didn’t love the idea. Guns meant death, but wasn’t that part of the job? Deep down, I knew that I couldn’t always count on someone else to protect me, and it was past time I learned how to protect myself.

  If that meant learning how to shoot a gun without flinching, it was worth it, especially if it meant saving Ramos, or Dimples, or even Uncle Joey and my family. It was time for me to do my part.

  I gave him a firm nod. “Okay. I’ll come back tomorrow. Same time?”

  “Yes.” I followed him out of the shooting range, and he took the gun I’d used. “Do you own a gun?”

  I twisted my lips. “Not anymore.”

  His brows rose, so I told him what had happened to it. “Someone stole it right out of the safe in my bedroom closet. Then they used it to murder a private investigator. Since my fingerprints were on it, and I’d been the one to find his body, they arrested me for murder. It was awful. After I was exonerated, the police offered to give it back, but I told them to destroy it.”

  His eyes widened, and he changed his mind about telling me to buy my own gun. “Oh. I see. No wonder you have an aversion to guns.”

  “Yeah. That’s probably part of the reason I put off coming here, but now I realize that I need to put all of that behind me. I need to be reliable for my partner if a dicey situation comes up again. But don’t ask me to own a gun, because that’s never going to happen.”

  “Sure.” He could understand it, but he thought I needed something for protection, since I seemed to get into all kinds of trouble.

  “I have this.” I pulled my stun flashlight out of my purse and held it out to show him. “It packs a wallop, and I’ve used it several times. It hasn’t let me down yet, and I don’t have to worry about killing anyone.”

  Dante took the flashlight from me, and his lips twisted into a grin. “Not bad.”

  I put it back into my purse. “Thanks. Well… I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He nodded, thinking that I was full of surprises, and he looked forward to seeing me again. I left with a smile, grateful my first time on the gun range was behind me, and that Dante had even helped me out. From my first impression of his hard, no-nonsense attitude, I never would have thought that possible.

  The police station was just a few buildings over, and I’d told Detective Harris, aka Dimples, that I’d stop by after my mandatory training session. I hadn’t seen him for a while, mostly because my husband, Chris, had insisted I take some time off.

  A while back, I’d solved a case by nearly becoming the next victim, and it still made me cringe. How had I ever thought I could outsmart a womanizing killer? A few days later, I’d been shoved down a long staircase by another murderer. After those near misses, I was more than ready to agree with Chris. We’d even managed to take the kids camping for a few days, and our new dog, Coco, had gone with us.

  We’d had a great time, and I don’t even like camping. Just thinking about Coco brought a smile to my face, and I knew he was the main reason I’d recovered from the trauma of the last several weeks so quickly.

  Besides helping the police, I’d taken some time off from helping Uncle Joey as well. He was the mob boss who knew my mind reading secret. At first, he’d coerced me into working for him. Now I did it because he’d claimed my family and me as part of the Manetto clan.

  Some of that may have been my fault, since I’d been calling him Uncle Joey from the first day we’d met, and that had made it seem true. In fact, I had a closer bond with Joey “The Knife” Manetto than I did with my real uncles, so maybe it wasn’t so unexpected.

  A year ago, I never would have thought it possible, but now I couldn’t imagine my life without him. Of course, that included his hitman, Ramos. He was one of those hot, sexy, dangerous men that women of all ages couldn’t help drooling over… me included. He’d saved my life more than a few times, nearly dying in the process, so we had a special bond.

  Since I was happily married, and he knew it, he liked to push my buttons. I may have enjoyed those times more than I should, but nothing had ever happened. And… as long as I got to go on long motorcycle rides with him… that was enough to keep me on the straight and narrow.
>
  Dimples also knew my secret, but he was the only person on the police force who did, and he’d sworn to keep it to himself. I told everyone else I had premonitions in order to explain my psychic ability. By now, the whole department believed I was the real deal, so it was nice to have respect, even if some of the detectives gave it grudgingly.

  But… the downside of my notoriety was that I was in such high demand. The chief had even asked me to help another police chief in New York while I’d been there on vacation. It just proved that I hadn’t learned how to say no, and another reason I needed a break.

  Now that my break was over, it was time to get back to work. Too bad firing that gun had brought back the memory of killing Jameson Beal. If not for that, I might be a little more excited about seeing Dimples today.

  Since I couldn’t help worrying, I decided that from now on, I’d be in charge of my life. I’d call the shots for a change, and things would go the way I wanted, regardless of what everyone else thought. That settled me down, and I entered the police station to find Dimples.

  After a quick greeting with the desk officer, he buzzed me into the inner sanctum of the station, and I followed the hallway to the detectives’ offices. Dimples glanced up, and his face broke into a huge smile, causing his dimples to turn into little tornadoes whirling around on his cheeks.

  Just looking at those dimples brought a grin to my face, and I stepped toward him like he was a long-lost friend. It had only been a few weeks since I’d last seen him, but he came around his desk to give me an enthusiastic bear hug that squeezed the breath right out of me.

  “It’s so good to see you,” he said, before finally letting me go.

  “You too. How are you doing?”

  “Good. You ready to come back to work?” He smiled extra-wide, hoping to entice me with his amazing dimples.

  I chuckled. “Just about, but I have to see your wife at her office first.”

  Dimples had recently married Billie Jo Payne, a reporter for the Daily News. She’d helped me out a few times, and I’d returned the favor. We’d even become good friends, but now she wanted to interview me for a featured article. So far, I’d managed to avoid her, but she’d insisted I come in today. I’d agreed, but only on the condition that there were no strings attached.