Chapter One

I hate Mondays. People are still hungover from the weekend and think the freeway is their personal racetrack. Ahead of me, a battered white van with a ladder on the roof swerved wildly. The broken side mirror gave me the perfect view of the driver. Instead of keeping his eyes on the road, the idiot was busily texting God knows who. I flipped on my overhead lights and pulled in behind him. I keyed my radio mic, "Charlie-23 show me code six with…"

Bam! The van rear-ended a semi-truck with Nargi Fireworks emblazoned on all sides.

I slammed on my brakes, missed the van by a scant foot, and skidded to a stop in the emergency lane. I sucked in a shuddering breath. Holy crap! That had been too damn close.

The dispatcher calmly said, "Charlie-23 I need your location."

"Charlie-23, I'm out at Loop 303 and milepost 240 with an accident."

Flames erupted from the van's hood.

"And I need you to start the fire department for a vehicle fire."

"Copy Charlie-23."

The van's driver bailed out of his burning vehicle, shot me the one-finger salute, and ran across the freeway. Horns honked; brakes squealed as the drivers somehow avoided hitting the suicidal nutcase.

The nutcase knew I wouldn't chase him because of the fire. It might take me awhile, but I would find him, and I couldn't wait to see the look on his face when I did. "Charlie-23 my suspect is now running westbound across the 303. He's a white male, approximately thirty-years-old with brown hair and wearing a red tee-shirt. He's wanted for leaving the scene of an accident and possibly DUI."

While the dispatcher repeated the description, I grabbed my fire extinguisher and tried to put out the ever-growing blaze. I backed away when the flames engulfed the rear of the semi-truck.

Crappity crap, crap. "Dispatch, please advise the fire department that the tractor-trailer he hit is on fire too and possibly full of fireworks. I need you to start me a backup and advise George-20 of my situation."

"Copy, Charlie-23."

"George-20 copies." Sergeant Bergman replied.

"Charlie-24 I'm responding to Charlie-23's location."

I smiled. Julie, my BFF, always had my back.

"Charlie-26 I'll check the area for the DUI driver," Frank added.

"Copy Charlie-26."

Frank was ex-military, great in a fight, and always there when you needed him.

A big, burly man in his fifties jumped out of the semi-truck's cab and ran over to me. "It's gonna blow." He picked me up and tossed me over the cement traffic barrier.

I rolled down the hill and hit a concrete irrigation control box. Ouch!

The driver scrambled down the hillside after me.

My hand on the butt of my gun, I got to my feet. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Saving your life." He swept my feet out from under me. Down I went and the jerk jumped on top of me. "Stay down!"

Wedged against the irrigation box, I could barely move. "Get off me."

Kaboom! The ground shook as the semi-truck exploded and July 4 th came early. Red, white, and blue spherical starbursts shot in every direction.

I watched the awesome display over his shoulder. "How many fireworks were you hauling?"

"Ten tons."

My left cheek stung like the devil. Must have hit a rock on the way down the hill. "Do you have insurance and a federal explosives permit?"

The semi-truck driver snarled, "I do, but my insurance won't cover everything. I'm going to lose about twenty thousand dollars on the cargo alone."

Kablooey! A massive, sparkly fireball rose high into the air and debris rained down on us.

Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!

I groaned. The sound of metal hitting metal meant there was one hell of a pileup on the freeway. The Monday curse had struck again.

Multiple sirens sounded in the distance.

"Are the fireworks done blowing up?" Please say yes. The driver was as big as my dad, and he was squashing me.

"Give it a minute." He sniffed my neck. "Nice perfume."

What an ass! I wasn't wearing any and he smelled like Indian curry. If I could get to my stun gun, I'd light him up. The only man I allowed this close was Dante.

Boom! Bright yellow stars cascaded from the turquoise sky.

"Think we're done." He rolled off me.

I frowned at the large abrasion on my left arm and took a quick look around at the pieces of burning metal littering the desert landscaping. Nothing else was on fire. Yet. "What's your name?"

He pulled me to my feet. "Chet Nargi, but people call me Chief."

"Okay, Chief, I'm Deputy Stone and the next time you throw me down a hill with no warning, I'm going to shoot your ass."

"Spunky little thing ain't ya?" He chuckled. "Got yourself a fella?"

My jaw dropped. Little? I was six feet tall. "Did you hit your head in the accident? Do you need the paramedics?"

"I don't see a ring on your left hand," Chief said and handed me a business card. "Give me a call. I'll show you a good time."

"I don't think so."

A voice called, "Want me to shoot him, Deputy Stone?"

I looked up and my eyes widened in horror. It was Emma Louise Brown, and she had a gun. A very big gun. "Put that Desert Eagle away. Are your dogs with you?"

"Sorta." She stuffed the pistol in her purse.

I shoved Chief's business card in my back pocket. "What do you mean, sorta?"

Emma glanced over her shoulder when a woman screamed blue bloody murder. "When the truck blew up, I let them out of the car."

"Oh, hell!" I scrambled up the hill and groaned. I had a ten-car pile-up. My patrol car, the van, and the semi-truck were burning hunks of metal. To make matters worse the little ankle biters were chasing after the people running for their lives.

"Get your dogs under control, Emma, or I'm calling animal control."

"Yes, Deputy." Emma sprinted after them yelling, "Come to momma. Come to momma."

Chief snorted in amusement. "They're only Chihuahuas."

"Think of them as land sharks."

He watched the dogs for a moment. "You will catch the bastard that hit me, won't you, sweetheart?" There was a steely note in his voice.

"It's Deputy Stone and that's the plan."

"You've got twenty-four hours, sweetheart."

In my best mean-mother voice I snapped, "My name is Deputy Stone and that sounds like a threat."

"Consider it a warning," Chief replied.

I didn't like his Master of the Universe expression. "This might be Arizona, but vigilante justice stopped a hundred years ago." I keyed my radio mic and called. "Charlie-23 the trailer hauling the fireworks exploded and there are approximately ten vehicles involved in the accident. I need a traffic accident investigator, the bomb squad, and the paramedics at my location."

"Copy, Charlie-23," the dispatcher acknowledged.

Chief glared at me. "We do not need the bomb squad."

"I think we do."

Two fire trucks squealed to a stop behind the mangled vehicles.

To my relief I spotted Julie's and Sergeant Bergman's patrol cars coming up the on-ramp.

"As soon as we get the accident scene under control, I'll get you a report number."

Chief surveyed the smashed cars. "I have some calls to make. You've got twenty minutes before I take matters in hand, sweetheart." He stalked off.

Was that another threat?

The whomp-whomp of helicopter blades had me looking up. My mother's Huey and three news choppers hovered overhead.

Mom was checking up on me and with my luck, I'd be on the news again.

While the firefighters put out the fires, I went from car to car checking for injured passengers. To my relief, all the cars were empty.

"That's the second car you've destroyed this month," Sergeant Bergman growled.

"What? A crane accidentally dropped an air-conditioner on my car, and I wasn't anywhere near it."

Sergeant Bergman shot a look at the burnt-out remains of my patrol car.

"I wasn't involved in the accident. When the trailer blew it caught my unit on fire."

"Then how did you hurt your face and arm?" Sergeant Bergman queried.

"The semi-truck driver threw me down the hill. He claimed it was to save my life."

Julie interjected, "Is that Emma Brown?"

"It is and she has a Desert Eagle in her purse."

"Oh, God, like her dogs don't create enough problems," Julie groaned.

Busily texting on his cell phone, Chief didn't notice the Chihuahuas until it was too late. Growling ferociously, they latched onto his pants, and sent him crashing to the ground.

"Oh, hell!" I took off at a dead run.

Julie was right beside me. "Is he armed?"

"Probably."

Chief started grabbing Chihuahuas and hurling them into the emergency lane. They yelped loudly when they hit the pavement.

"No one hurts my babies!" Emma yanked out her pistol and blasted away. Car windows exploded, tires deflated, and windshields shattered.

A derringer magically appeared in Chief's right hand as bullets smacked the asphalt around him.

"Enough!" Sergeant Bergman bellowed and took the gun away from Emma. "You trying to kill us all? You're also a piss-poor shot."

To my amazement not one bullet had hit Chief and then the dumbass made the mistake of raising his itty-bitty weapon.

Julie pressed the muzzle of her Glock against the back of his head. "I wouldn't."

"Yes, ma'am. Don't shoot. I'm harmless." Chief slowly raised his hands.

Julie snorted and snatched the derringer out of his hand. "I doubt that."

I noticed the paramedics and firefighters were hiding behind the mangled cars. I held up four fingers, letting them know everything was under control.

Sergeant Bergman pulled out his cuffs. "Have you lost your mind, Emma?"

"He hurt my babies. Why are you arresting me, not him?"

"He wasn't the one firing a gun," Sergeant Bergman answered and cuffed her.

Emma burst into tears. Her Chihuahuas huddled at her feet.

Julie handed me the derringer. "Get up slowly, mister."

"They attacked me. I have the right to defend myself," Chief snapped.

I gave him my death stare. "Sergeant Bergman had the situation under control, and you knew it."

"Stone, you search Emma, and I'll check him for more weapons."

Oh, thank God I didn't have to touch him again. "Yes, sir." I handed Julie the derringer and she dropped it into an evidence bag.

As I patted Emma down, she squirmed and giggled, "That tickles."

The land sharks growled at me.

"Sit! Stay!" I growled back. To my relief they did. I picked up Emma's purse and looked inside. She had brass knuckles, Mace, a switchblade, and condoms. Lots and lots of condoms. "Does your daughter know what goes on at your water aerobics classes?"

Emma gave me her best innocent look. "We exercise vigorously."

"Uh-huh." The image of all those naked old people getting it on was permanently burned into my mind.

By the expression on his face, Chief didn't like being searched. Poor baby.

I glanced over my shoulder and watched my brother walk up. "Never a dull moment with you two." Nate surveyed me from head to toe. "Get into a scuffle?"

I gave Chief the stink eye. "Not exactly." Nate was wearing his bomb squad overalls complete with his tool belt, but I didn't see any of his team. "Are you handling this one alone?"

"I am. We had another callout." Nate brushed some leaves out of my hair.

"He's your man?" Chief sneered.

Nate frowned. "No, I'm her brother and watch the attitude."

"This is Chet Nargi, the owner of the semi-truck that went kablooey. His truck was hauling ten tons of fireworks. He says he has the proper federal explosives permit," I said.

Nate eyed the Glock in Julie's hand. "Is he under arrest?"

"No." She holstered her gun.

"Okay, Mr. Nargi, let's go talk with the fire captain."

"I want my derringer back."

Sergeant Bergman shook his head. "You can pick it up at the substation later."

"You'll be hearing from my lawyer," Chief snarled and stomped over to the blackened remains of his truck.

Nate rolled his eyes and followed him.

"I'm taking command of the scene. Garza, Emma, and the dogs are yours. Book her for unlawful discharge of a weapon," Sergeant Bergman ordered.

Julie stared at him in horror. "You want me to put those land sharks in my patrol car?"

"I do. Now."

"Yes, sir." Julie gripped Emma's arm firmly. "So help me God, if your little monster damage my car, I'll charge you with criminal damage."

A flash of red caught my attention. "Sonovabitch! That's my DUI driver."

"Where?" Sergeant Bergman demanded.

I pointed at my suspect who was walking along the freeway's landscaping with his thumb out. "Can I borrow your car?"

"It's blocked in by the ambulance," Sergeant Bergman replied.

"Crap, I'll never catch him on foot."

"You would on horseback," Julie interjected. "Isn't that Mr. Ed's horse trailer?"

"Yes, it is." I took off running. "Mr. Ed. Mr. Ed."

Mr. Ed resembled an Old West cowboy right down to his red bandana and chaps. He climbed out of his truck and doffed his hat. "What can I do for you, Deputy?"

"I need to borrow Lucy to catch a varmint."

Mr. Ed gestured at the burnt-out vehicles. "Is he responsible for this mess?"

"Yes, he is."

"Happy to help." Mr. Ed lowered the ramp on the trailer. "Need a rope too?"

"I do. Is she still saddled?"

"She is." Mr. Ed backed Lucy out of the trailer. "Go get him, Gemma."

"I'll have him hogtied in no time." I mounted Lucy and headed down the emergency lane at a trot. I waved at the surprised people as I passed by.

Once we hit the freeway landscaping, Lucy broke into a gallop. "Good girl, Lucy. See that guy in the red shirt? We need to lasso him." I couldn't wait to see the surprise on that bastard's face when I took him down. "C'mon girl, we can't let him get away."

Lucy jumped a barrel cactus and raced after him.

The pounding of hooves had me glancing over my shoulder. Sergeant Bergman was riding Skipper, Ed's prized cutting horse.

The suspect's eyes bugged when he saw me, and he scrambled up the hillside.

Grabbing the rope off the saddle horn, I swirled it over my head and as soon as I was close enough to the suspect, I let it fly. The rope dropped over the suspect's shoulders and Lucy slid to a stop. The rope tightened, yanking the suspect off his feet. He rolled down the incline.

"What the fuck," the suspect yelped as he fought to get the rope off.

Sergeant Bergman jumped off Skipper and within twenty seconds had the suspect hogtied.

"You've still got it, Sergeant."

He grinned. "Your dad asked me to be his partner in the team roping event at Old Tucson's Wild West Rodeo."

"Mom and I are doing our Anne Oakley shooting exhibition and I was thinking of entering the barrel race too."

"Hey! You can't tie me up like this. It's police brutality," the suspect yelled.

Sergeant Bergman glared at him. "You have the right to remain silent. So shut it."

A patrol car pulled up and Charlie-26 got out. "Nice take-down."

"It was, wasn't it," I agreed happily. Maybe Mondays weren't so bad after all.

Sergeant Bergman held out his hand. "I need your cuffs, Frank; Emma Brown is wearing mine."

"Did she cause that explosion?" He gave Sergeant Bergman his cuffs.

I shook my head. "No, this idiot is responsible. He was too busy texting to notice the semi-truck in front of him."

"You can't prove I was texting," the idiot exclaimed.

Frank pulled the cell phone out of the idiot's back pocket. "Yeah, we can, and you reek of marijuana too."

"So? It's legal."

"You are under arrest for driving while under the influence of drugs," Sergeant Bergman advised as he replaced the rope with handcuffs.

"But marijuana is legal."

Sergeant Bergman hauled the idiot to his feet. "You can't drive while high."

"Do you have car insurance?" I interjected.

The idiot refused to answer.

"Gemma needs to take her prisoner to the hospital for a blood draw and since her unit is out of commission, you're driving them Frank," Sergeant Bergman instructed.

Frank frowned. "What happened to your patrol car, Gemma?"

"It was destroyed in the explosion."

Frank let out a whistle. "That's the second one this month."

"Neither of which was my fault," I shot back.

Sergeant Bergman searched the idiot for weapons. "He's clean." He opened the idiot's wallet. "Benjamin Walters your driver's license has been expired for three months."

"Like I care." Benjamin yawned. "Got anything to eat?"

In unison we all snapped, "No."

Sergeant Bergman stuffed Benjamin in the back of Frank's patrol car.

"You sure you don't need my help with the accident scene?" I felt guilty leaving him with the mess.

"No, this incident is drawing too much attention, and I want Sergeant Todd's accident investigators to recreate the scene."

I nodded. "They are very good at what they do."

"I'll take the horses back. You get busy on your paperwork."

"Yes, sir." I dismounted and cooed, "You are such a good girl, Lucy." She nuzzled me. "Sorry, no carrots." I handed Sergeant Bergman the reins. "Tell Mr. Ed I owe him a steak dinner."

Sergeant Bergman mounted Skipper. "Will do." He rode off.