Vengeance Road [NOOK Book]

Overview

The murder of a brokenhearted woman…

The body of Bernice Hogan, a troubled young former nursing student with a tragic past, is found in a shallow grave near a forest creek.

…and the chilling disappearance of her friend…

Jolene Peller, a single mom struggling to build a new life with her little boy, vanishes the night she tries to find ...

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Vengeance Road

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Overview

The murder of a brokenhearted woman…

The body of Bernice Hogan, a troubled young former nursing student with a tragic past, is found in a shallow grave near a forest creek.

…and the chilling disappearance of her friend…

Jolene Peller, a single mom struggling to build a new life with her little boy, vanishes the night she tries to find Bernice.

…raise questions about their ties to a respected detective…

Hero cop Karl Styebeck is beloved by his community, but privately police are uneasy with the answers he gives to protect the life—and the lie—he's lived.

…and lead to one journalist's obsession to find the truth…

The case haunts Jack Gannon, a gritty, blue-collar reporter whose own sister ran away from their family years ago. Gannon risks more than his job to pursue the story behind Styebeck's dark secret, his link to the women, and the mysterious big rig roaming America's loneliest highways on its descent into eternal darkness.

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781460308233
  • Publisher: Harlequin
  • Publication date: 11/15/2012
  • Series: A Jack Gannon Novel , #1
  • Sold by: HARLEQUIN
  • Format: eBook
  • Edition description: Original
  • Pages: 400
  • Sales rank: 109,372
  • File size: 2 MB

Meet the Author


Rick Mofina is a former crime reporter and the award-winning author of several acclaimed thrillers. He's interviewed murderers face-to-face on death row; patrolled with the LAPD and the RCMP. His true crime articles have appeared in The New York Times, Marie Claire, Reader’s Digest and Penthouse. He's reported from the U.S., Canada, the Caribbean, Africa, Qatar and Kuwait's border with Iraq. For more information please visit www.rickmofina.com
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Read an Excerpt




The taxi crawled along a road that knifed into the night at Buffalo's eastern edge.

Its brakes squeaked as it halted at the fringe of a vast park.

Jolene Peller gazed toward the woods then paid the driver.

"This is where you want to be dropped off?" he asked.

"Yes. Can you kill the meter and wait for me, please?"

"I can't, you're my last fare. Gotta get the cab back."

"Please, I just have to find my friend."

The driver handed her a five in change, nodding to the pathway that twisted into darkness beyond the reach of his headlights.

"You're sure your friend's down there?"

"Yes, I need to get her home. She's going through a rough time."

"It's a beautiful park, but you know what some people do down there at night?"

Jolene knew.

But she was living another life then. If you could call it living.

"Can't you wait a bit?" Jolene asked.

"Not on my time. Gotta get the cab back then start my vacation."

"Please."

"Look, miss, you seem nice. I'll take you back now. I'll give you a break on the fare because it's on my way. But I ain't waitin' while you wander around looking for your problem. Stay or go? What's it going to be?"

Tonight was all Jolene had to do the right thing.

"I have to stay," she said.

The driver gave her a suit-yourself shrug and Jolene got out. The taxi lumbered off, its red taillights disappearing, leaving her alone.

She had to do this.

As she walked along the path, she looked at the familiar twinkle of lights from the big suburban homes on the ridge that ringed the parkland half a mile off. When she found Bernice, they'd walk to a corner store then get a cab to Bernice's apartment. Then Jolene could take another one to the terminal, claim her bags and catch a later bus.

But not before she found Bernice.

Not before she saved her.

And tonight, for one brief moment, she thought she had.

Less than an hour ago they were together in a downtown diner where Jolene had pleaded with her.

"Honey, you've got to stop beating yourself up for things that were never your fault."

Tears rolled down Bernice's face.

"You've got to get yourself clean and finish college."

"It's hard, Jo. So hard."

"I know, but you've got to pull yourself out of the life. If I can do it, you can do it. Promise me, right here, right now, that you won't go out tonight."

"It hurts. I ache. I need something to get me through one more day. I need the money. I'll start after tomorrow."

"No!"

A few people cast sleepy glances at them. Jolene lowered her voice.

"That's a lie you keep telling yourself. Promise me you won't go dating tonight, that you will go home."

"But it hurts."

Jolene seized Bernice's hands, entwined their fingers and squeezed hard.

"You've got to do this, honey. You can't accept this life. Promise me you will go home. Promise me, before I get on my bus and leave town."

"Okay, I promise, Jo."

"Swear."

"I swear, Jo."

Jolene hugged her tight.

But after getting into her taxi and traveling several blocks, Jolene was uncertain. She told the driver to go back so she could check on Bernice.

Sure enough, there she was. At the mouth of a dirty alley, on Niagara, hustling a date. The cab stopped at a light, Jolene gripped her door handle, bracing to jump out and haul Bernice off the street.

But she didn't.

To hell with that girl.

Jolene told the driver to keep going to the terminal. She didn't need this shit. Not now. She was leaving for Florida tonight to build a new life for herself and her little boy. Bernice was an adult, old enough to take care of herself.

Jolene had tried to help.

She really had.

But with each passing block, her guilt grew. Soon the neon blurred. Brushing away her tears, Jolene cursed. She couldn't leave Buffalo tonight with that last image of her friend standing in her memory.

Bernice was an addict. She was sick. She needed help. Jolene was her lifeline.

And tonight, every instinct told Jolene that something was wrong.

The driver muttered when she requested he take her back to the alley. But by the time they'd returned, Bernice and the man she'd been hustling were gone.

Jolene had a bad feeling.

But she knew exactly where they'd be.

Down here, by the creek.

Funny, Jolene thought, during the day this was a middle-class sanctuary where people walked, jogged, even took wedding pictures near the water.

And dreamed.

Most locals, living their happy lives, were unaware that after dark, their park was where hookers took their dates.

It was where you left the real world; where you buried your dignity; where each time you used your body to survive, a piece of you died.

Jolene knew it from her former life; the life she'd escaped when she had Cody. He was her number-one reason for getting out. She'd vowed he would not have a junkie mother selling herself for dope.

He deserved better.

So did Bernice.

She'd been abandoned, abused, but had worked so hard to get into college, only to face a setback that led to drugs, which pushed her here. The tragedy of it was that she was only months away from becoming a certified nurse's aide.

Bernice didn't belong in this life.

Date or no date, Jolene was going to find her and drag her ass home, if it was the last thing she did. Jolene was not afraid to come down here at night. She knew the area and knew how to handle herself.

She had her pepper spray.

She arrived at the dirt parking lot, part of an old earthen service road that bordered the pathway meandering alongside the creek. The lot was empty.

No sign of anybody.

As crickets chirped, Jolene took stock of the area and the treetops silhouetted against a three-quarter moon. She knew the hidden paths and meadows, where drugs and dates were taken and deals completed.

Through a grove, she saw a glint of chrome, like a grille from a vehicle parked in a far-off lot. Possibly a truck. Jolene headed that way. She was nearly there when a scream stopped her cold.

"Nooo! Oh God nooo! Help me!"

The tiny hairs on the back of Jolene's neck stood up.

Bernice!

Her cry came from the darkest section of the forest near the creek. Jolene rushed to it. Branches slapped at her face, tugged at her clothing.

The growth was thicker than she'd remembered. Her eyes had not adjusted; she was running blind over the undulating terrain.

She stepped on nothing and the ground rose to smack her.

She scrambled to her feet and kept going.

There was movement ahead, shadow play in the moonlight.

Noises.

Jolene didn't make a sound as she reached into her bag, her fingers wrapping around her pepper spray.

A blast to the creep's face. A kick in the groin. Jolene had done it before with freaks who'd tried to choke her.

She swallowed hard, ready to fight. Heart pumping, she strained to see what awaited her. Someone was moving; she glimpsed a figure.

Bernice? Was that her face in the ground?

A metallic clank.

Tools? What was going on?

The air exploded next to Jolene with a flap and flutter of a terrified bird screeching to the sky. Startled, Jolene stepped away and fell, crashing through a dried thicket.

She was unhurt.

The air was dead still.

A figure was listening.

Jolene froze.

The figure was thinking.

Her blood thundered in her ears.

A twig snapped. The figure was approaching.

She held her breath.

It was getting closer.

All of her senses were screaming.

Her fingers probed the earth but she was unable to find her bag. Frantic, she clawed the dirt for her pepper spray, a rock, a branch.

Anything.

Her pulse galloped, she didn't breathe. After several agonizing moments, everything subsided. The threat seemed to pass with a sudden gust that rustled the treetops.

Oh, thank God.

Jolene collected herself to resume looking for Bernice, when she was hit square in the face by a blazing light.

Squinting, she raised her hands against the intensity. Someone grunted, a shadow strobed. She ran but fireworks exploded in her head, hurling her into nothingness.

What was that?

The next morning, Jack Gannon, a reporter at the Buffalo Sentinel, picked up a trace of tension on the paper's emergency scanners.

An array of them chattered at the police desk across the newsroom from where he sat.

Sounds like something's going on in a park, he thought as a burst of coded dispatches echoed in the quiet of the empty metro section.

Not many reporters were in yet.

Gannon was not on cop-desk duty today, but he'd cut his teeth there years ago, chasing fires, murders and everyday tragedies. It left him with the skill to pluck a key piece of data from the chaotic cross talk squawking from metro Buffalo's police, fire and paramedic agencies.

Like a hint of stress in a dispatcher's voice, he thought as he picked out another partial transmission.

Somebody had just called for the medical examiner.

The reporter on scanner duty better know about this.

For the last two weeks the assignment desk had promised to keep Gannon free to chase a tip he'd had on a possible Buffalo link to a woman missing from New England.

He needed a good story.

But this business with the police radios troubled him.

Scanners were the lifeblood of a newspaper. And no reporter worth a damn risked missing something that a competitor might catch, especially in these days of melting advertising and shrinking circulation.

Did anyone know about this call for the medical examiner?

He glanced over his computer monitor toward the police desk at the far side of the newsroom, unable to tell who, if anyone, was listening.

"Jeff!" He called to the news assistant but got no response.

Gannon walked across the newsroom, which took up the north side of the fourteenth floor and looked out to Lake Erie.

The place was empty, a portrait of a dying industry, he thought.

A couple of bored Web-edition editors worked at desks cluttered with notebooks, coffee cups and assorted crap. A bank of flat-screen TV monitors tilted down from the ceiling. The sets were tuned to news channels with the volume turned low.

Gannon saw nothing on any police activity anywhere.

He stopped cold at the cop desk.

"What the hell's this?"

No one was there listening to the radios.

Doesn't anyone give a damn about news anymore? This is how we get beat on stories.

He did duty here last week. This week it was someone else's job.

"Jeff!" he shouted to the news assistant who was proofreading something on his monitor. "Who's on the scanners this morning?"

"Carson. He's up at the Falls. Thought a kid had gone over but turns out he dropped his jacket in the river. Carson blew a tire on his way back here."

"Who's backing him up?" Gannon asked.

"Sharon Langford. I think she went to have coffee with a source."

"Langford? She hates cop stories."

Just then one of the radios carried a transmission from the same dispatcher who'd concerned Gannon.

"...copy... they're rolling to Ellicott and the park now...ten-four."

Calling in the M.E. means you have a death. It could be natural, a jogger suffering a heart attack. It could be accidental, like a drowning.

Or it could be a homicide.

Gannon reached down, tried to lock on the frequency but was too late. He cursed, returned to his desk, kicked into his old crime-reporter mode, called Buffalo PD and pressed for information on Ellicott.

"I got nothing for you," the officer said.

All right. Let's try Cheektowaga.

"We got people there but it's not our lead." The officer refused to elaborate.

How about Amherst PD?

"We've got nothing. Zip."

This thing must have fallen into a jurisdictional gray zone, he thought as he called Ascension Park PD.

"We're supporting out there."

Supporting? He had something.

"What's going on?"

"That's all I know. Did you try ECSO?" said the woman who answered for Ascension Park.

A deputy with the Erie County Sheriff's Office said, "Yeah, we've got people there, but the SP is your best bet."

He called the New York State Police at Clarence Barracks. Trooper Felton answered but put him on hold, thrusting Gannon into Bruce Springsteen's "The River."

Listening to the song, Gannon considered the faded news clippings pinned to low walls around his desk, his best stories, and the dream he'd pretty much buried.

He never made it to New York City.

Here he was, still working in Buffalo.

The line clicked, cutting Springsteen off.

"Sorry," Felton said, "you're calling from the Sentinel about Ellicott Creek?"

"Yes. What do you have going on out there?"

"We're investigating the discovery of a body."

"Do you have a homicide?"

"Too soon to say."

"Is it a male or female? Do you have an ID, or an age?"

"Cool your jets there. You're the first to call. Our homicide guys are there, but that's routine. I got nothing more to release yet."

"Who made the find?"

"Buddy, I've got to go."

A body in Ellicott. That was a nice area.

He had to check it out.

He tucked his notebook into the rear pocket of his jeans and grabbed his jacket, glancing at the senior editors in the morning story meeting in the glass-walled room at the far west side.

Likely discussing pensions, rather than stories.

"Jeff, tell the desk I'm heading to Ellicott Creek." He tore a page from his notebook with the location mapped out. "Get a shooter rolling to this spot. We may have a homicide."

And I may have a story.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4.5
( 11 )
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Sort by: Showing 1 – 13 of 11 Customer Reviews
  • Posted August 15, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    I Also Recommend:

    Vengeance Road is a suspenseful 'hold-your-breath' ride, with twists and turns at breakneck speed

    Jack Gannon, a reporter for The Buffalo Sentinel, investigates the brutal murder of one prostitute and the disappearance of another, a woman who had picked herself off the street and cleaned up her life. The investigation points to one suspect-hero cop Karl Styebeck, a man with a secret past brimming with violence. Then there's the mysterious blue rig that haunts the highways. How is it connected to Styebeck and the victims?

    As Gannon digs deeper, he risks losing everything-his career, his reputation and his future. With help from Adell Clark, a former FBI agent turned PI, Gannon gets the inside scoop on the murder investigation. But this puts Gannon and Adell in jeopardy of losing more than their jobs.

    Author Rick Mofina has crafted the kind of protagonist that readers will yearn to read more about. Jack Gannon is tough but flawed, and he's like a pit-bull who won't let go. In some ways, he's emotionally disconnected, but the disappearance of his own sister years ago, pushes him onward. I hope the author continues with this character and his back-story. I'd love to see a series!

    I think this is my favorite Rick Mofina novel yet! Vengeance Road is a gritty, top-notch thriller, with glimpses of evil thrown in to keep you turning those pages. Mofina's former career as a crime reporter keeps the writing concise and descriptive, the characters well developed and defined, and the dialogue true and believable.

    Vengeance Road is a suspenseful 'hold-your-breath' ride, with twists and turns at breakneck speed. I'd recommend it to anyone who enjoys a heart-pounding race against time.

    ~Cheryl Kaye Tardif,
    bestselling author of Divine Intervention

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted December 20, 2014

    Recommended

    I enjoyed this book and now want to read more Jack Gannon series. I like the way Rick Mofina has short chapters!

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  • Posted December 21, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    Great Tale with Crackerjack Investigative Reporter Jack Gannon

    I really liked this thriller from start to finish. Jack Gannon is a relentless reporter working in a Buffalo newspaper. He gets involved with covering a homicide in the park. A streetwalker was murdered in a ritual sort of way. By accident Jack learns that a Detective is the main suspect. Through various resources, Jack is able to come up with the identity of the detective. He lets the paper know that he wants to run a story about the detective as the main suspect in the paper. His editor is reluctant because Jack refuses to give up his source. Jack persuades the editor to go with it anyway.

    After the story runs, the police "semi" deny that a detective is about to be charged. This enrages the paper's owner who has Jack suspended and makes the paper run a retraction.

    In the meantime a woman had come to Jack to please try to help her find her daughter who has disappeared. Jack makes a discovery that the woman's daughter is somehow linked to the dead streetwalker. Jack is forced to work as a freelancer since he is later fired from the job after a confrontation with the suspected detective. His investigation leads him to a mystery that spans three generations and sends Jack on trips to Canada and around the US.

    The story never gets boring and the tension is rife as Jack tries to find the woman's daughter before she too is murdered. A real page turner that is impossible to put down.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted July 31, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    his is a super journalistic investigative suspense thriller

    Buffalo Sentinel veteran reporter Jack Gannon hears the buzz over the scanner and knows something ugly is going down in a park. He knows he is ancient history with his highlight film in the past and his work on a daily print newspaper a dinosaur nearing extinction, but he goes to cover the story.

    Someone murdered former nursing student Bernice Hogan. Jack is told by someone inside the investigation whom he trusts but cannot name that the prime suspect is highly regarded cop Karl Styebeck, the head of this murder inquiry. Jack writes the story, which leads to fiftyish Mary Peller informing him her twenty six year old daughter, a single mom of a three year old child, is missing and connected to Bernice. Jack's editor demands he give up his source, but he refuses; he is suspended. However, though he is about to be unemployed he keeps digging because he knows Jolene will be next.

    This is a super journalistic investigative suspense thriller with several great plausible twists. Jack is a throwback reporter to those 1940s movies who as his missing sister and Mary noted he never gives up. Fans will relish his exploits in Buffalo and elsewhere as he may be unemployed but has a save a stranger driving him onward.

    Harriet Klausner

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  • Posted June 14, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    I Also Recommend:

    Rick Mofina has produced another winner.

    Jack Gannon is a reporter with a Buffalo newspaper. Jack was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, but narrowly missed receiving the award. He is always looking for a story that might still win him this coveted prize. A mutilated woman is found in a park area and with no immediate suspects, Jack begins to work out who might have done this. A decorated and respected policeman becomes the prime suspect because of video evidence that he had been talking to her prior to her disappearance. Then another woman is missing and it becomes a challenge to see how the suspected policeman could have been involved. All the evidence seems to point to this suspect, but Jack digs deeper and discovers a three generation family horror story. As he gets closer to the answer, he also gets in more and more danger to himself. The exciting ending of this book finally puts all the pieces together for Jack. To say more would ruin the story for you, but this is another example of the author's genius at putting together one great thriller after another. Don't start it at night, as you might not want to go to sleep until you have finished it.

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