Free Shadow of Vengeance by Kristine Mason Page B

her mom a slut because she always had a new boyfriend and Sean had a different dad. As she’d matured, Rachel had overcome her childhood insecurities, but she still harbored zero tolerance for bullies. Joy, plain and simple, was nothing but a bully who needed to be put in her place.
    Stopping short of the staircase, she said, “Rachel.”
    Joy raised her dark eyebrows. “Right. You Rachel. Me Joy. Is this name thing too much for you to handle?”
    “Not for me,” Rachel replied.
    “Well then, Shorty, quit with all this bullshit and let me show you your room.”
    “Call me Shorty again and we’re going to find out if you can really haul my ass out of your house…ya know, personally.”
    After Joy sized her up, she snorted. “I could wipe my ass with you.”
    “Do it,” Rachel said even as her heart raced with fear and outrage.  
    “Good God.” Owen grabbed her arm. “What the hell is wrong with you?”  
    Without breaking eye contact with Joy, Rachel pulled free from his grip. “This doesn’t concern you.”
    “Yeah, it does. Spending the week sleeping in my car doesn’t work for me.”
    “You’re right. You stay here with Miss Sunshine. I’ll sleep at the hospital. There’s a recliner in Sean’s room. I’ve suddenly discovered that The House of Joy comes up a bit…short, even for me.”
    A shadow of a smile worked along Joy’s lips. “No pun intended.”
    Ignoring Joy, Rachel said, “Let’s go. We’ve wasted enough time.” Hands clammy, heart still beating erratically, she walked out of the colonial.  
    Owen caught up with her on the front porch and touched her shoulder. “What are you doing? Who gives a shit what that woman thinks or says?”
    “You’re mistaken. I don’t care about her at all.” She really didn’t. Being short, being called short…that was who she was and until there was such thing as limb-lengthening surgery, she’d remain—as Owen had aptly referred—vertically challenged. Joy, though, had touched a raw nerve. She’d treated them like crap the moment they’d walked into her house, threatened them, made fun of her height and Owen’s looks. As a whole, Joy wasn’t just a bully, she was a bitch. Between her mom, and the dozens of women she’d shared rooms with during her time in the army, Rachel had decided she’d lived with enough bitches. No need to add Joy to that list.  
    “If you don’t care, then why the hostility?”
    She stopped at the edge of the porch and faced him. “My brother is lying in the hospital. His best friend is missing and we have one week to find him. Bola, Wexman University could possibly have a serial killer roaming around here. I’m a bit…” The weight of what they needed to accomplish in a matter of days suddenly overwhelming, she reached behind her ear for the pencil. When she realized she’d left it in the car, she bit the inside of her cheek to keep her emotions under control. “I’m a bit stressed. I don’t need any Joy in my life right now.”
      Understanding softened Owen’s blue eyes. He gave her shoulder a light squeeze. “At the start, every case seems unsolvable. When they’re personal…they can be downright daunting. I know it’s easier said than done, but don’t let the stress affect you negatively. Treat it like a tool you can use to hone in on your investigative skills.”
    She had no investigative skills, but didn’t want to voice that to Owen. She’d already admitted enough. “Do you really walk into a case feeling like it’s unsolvable?”
    “Depends on the assignment.”
    “What about this one?”
    “We’ve got a file box filled with years of missing person cases, a note, a missing kid, and the so-called legend of Hell Week…yeah, I’m a little worried.”
    His honesty, his admission to having doubts about the case, eased her to a degree. A very small degree. If Owen, a total badass with a one hundred percent case resolution, worried about figuring out this particular puzzle, Josh