Family Secrets Read online

  Family Secrets

  A Colby PD Novel

  Ronnie Ashmore

  Family Secrets : A Colby PD Novel

  Copyright © 2020 by Ronnie Ashmore.

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organiza- tions, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For information contact :

  [email protected]

  First Edition: June 2020

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  For Jessica, Ashley, Caitlyn, Caleb, and Brittney.

  The Reasons for Everything.

  1

  The man had a gun, that was obvious. From the darkness of the shadows the officer strained his eyes to see into the abyss. The smell of gunpowder still floated on whatever breeze able to blow in alley. It stung the eyes and burned his lungs. The officer’s face could not be seen in the blanket of darkness, but his badge was very visible as the silver shown the reflection in the light. The officer struggled to come to terms with what his mind was seeing. Nothing made sense in the darkness. He was breathing hard and sweat was stinging his eyes. It was all so real, but also surreal as he tried squinting to focus his eyes straight ahead where the danger was. He couldn’t see anything. It was just inky, empty darkness. Not empty. There was danger in the darkness and the man had a gun.

  The alarm clock rang out startling Mike Collins wide awake, his heavy breathing the only other noise in the room after he turned the alarm off. He remembered the dream, pieces of it anyway, and he knew the faceless officer was him and he knew he would have this dream for many more nights to come. He sat up on the side of the bed looking at the clock that had caused him to startle awake, ten o’clock, the memory flooded back

  The dispatch call had come over the patrol car radio around two in the morning, interrupting what was a boring, but nice night. “Dispatch to Unit 4?” The dispatcher’s voice sounded strange, and instantly Mike had an adrenaline rush.

  “Unit 4!”

  “Be advised we have a 911 call for Smith’s Market. RP was pulling into the lot and advised possible robbery in progress.”

  Smith’s Market convenience store stayed open twenty-four hours, only closing half a day on Christmas as Smith’s advertising liked to remind you. It was the place to stop for the police on that side of the city because coffee refills were free. Mike had stopped in there at the beginning of his shift around midnight, teasing the young girl who worked the same shift he did.

  Adrenaline was pumping full force now; his heart was pounding in his ears so loud he had to strain to hear the radio. RP was police talk for reporting party meaning a witness. He activated his emergency lights, no siren though as that would give away too much information to the suspect, as he accelerated the patrol unit.

  “10-4, Dispatch, request additional units to this location.”

  Mike Collins was a six-year veteran of the Colby Police Department and handled calls like this before, although it had been awhile. As he approached the location of the market, he turned off his overhead lights and his headlights. He pulled to the side of the building and parked his car, as he got out, he unholstered his Glock 19 with his right hand and activated his body worn camera with his left. He carefully made his way toward the front entrance of the store trying to avoid the big bay windows in the front. The right side of the double glass entrance door suddenly exploded spraying glass everywhere and Mike heard the popping sound of gunfire.

  Mike reaction was quick and automatic. He jumped against the brick of the exterior wall and took cover behind the bagged ice freezer; he stretched his neck to see around the storage box into the front bay style window into the store. He seen someone run out from inside the store with something in his right hand, in the swiftness of the action Mike could not tell if they were male or female, the subject ran South away from Mike. Mike started running after the suspect as he was identifying himself as the police.

  In the alley behind Smith’s Market North of where the chase started, Mike lost sight of the suspect. It took what seemed a long time to gather his bearings in the alley, it was dark back here, and only a single streetlight at the other end of the alley provided light. His flashlight’s single beam was not strong enough to penetrate the darkness to see clearly very far. There, in the shadows just ahead of where his flashlight beam could reach, he seen someone moving, that had to be his guy.

  “Get on the ground! Police Department! Show me your hands!”

  There was a sudden movement as the suspects’ right hand came up.

  Mike must have shot, only he didn’t remember firing his gun. The shadow fell on the ground screaming in pain. Mike slowly walked closer to stand over the man, he could see now it was a man, a kid really, maybe late teens, early twenties, he looked around for any other threats. Mike knelt beside him finding a wound to the abdomen, he used the suspects own clothing to apply pressure to the wound in an effort to stop the bleeding. His first aid kit was in the car, it may as well have been in another state, as Mike couldn’t leave a suspect to get a first aid kit that probably wouldn’t help any way. While trying to keep pressure on the wound Mike looked around where the man lay for the gun he had seen. There was no gun.

  The sound of sirens filled the night air as the single backup unit arrived on scene, someone, not Mike, had called for an ambulance because they arrived at the same time the other officer did, there was suddenly a rush of activity as EMTs filled the small alley. There was still no gun. Mike was pushed aside by an EMT to let him get to the wounded man so he could do their job. Mike walked around the alley until he found himself leaning on a dumpster about ten yards from where the man lay. The shift supervisor, who was the backup unit tonight due to being short staffed walked up to him.

  “Mike, you got his weapon?”

  “No! Sarge, I don’t.”

  “Where the hell is it, then?” Sergeant Rod Marten was a ten-year veteran of the department. A congenial supervisor who held his standards to a high level, he had just turned thirty-three and was expecting his third child from his second wife. The last shooting incident for the department was three years ago, and Marten had been the officer involved. “Well, Mikey, just keep calm. The Chief is on his way.” Marten walked off leaving Mike alone. As Mike watched, it seemed everyone was looking at the ground. Searching for the gun no doubt, Mike thought, as a flood of what if’s came washing over him.

  What if there was no gun?

  No, the suspect had shot it, and I did see a gun, how come I couldn’t find it? he thought of all this as he watched the action from afar.

  Too much of a mess to try to untangle right now. Besides, the Chief is on his way.

  Billy Joe Tolliver, or B.J. as he liked to be called, pulled his cruiser up to the street at the opening of the alley. A forty-five-year veteran of the Colby Department he started as a dispatcher after high school and worked his way up to be the chief for the past twenty-five years. Tolliver was well respected around Colby as it is hard to maintain a career as long as his in a small city without plenty of support, but he was known to be gruff and didn’t tolerate any nonsense. As Tolliver walked up to him, Mike waited for him to speak.

  “You okay?”

  Mike nodded, “Yeah!”

  “I need your body camera for now. Rangers have been notified they’ll be here in a while. Meantime don’t say anything to no one. Hear me?”

  “Yes Sir.” Mike unhooked the camera from his shirt, he realized it was still on recording
all the events in the alley. He turned it off and handed it to the Chief.

  The Texas Rangers. For police departments like Colby’s which didn’t have the manpower or resources needed for internal investigations, like officer involved shootings, the Texas Rangers would come in and investigate the scene. As a branch of The Department of Public Safety, the state law enforcement agency, they had access to resources that a small department didn’t have. Sometimes, officer involved shootings, depending on the Ranger and the circumstances, was a smooth process, other times it was very strained. Mike was hoping the gun would be found before the Ranger arrived.

  “I can’t find the gun, Chief. I know I seen it.”

  “What part of don’t say anything is confusing you, son?”

  Mike watched the Chief walk away. Great, now what? He really didn’t know what to do now. He felt like he was separate from the action, yet still in the way. He allowed his thoughts to drift off, he became aware of someone standing next to him talking.

  “You Officer Michael Collins?” The voice seemed distant and it took a second for Mike to realize the questioner was waiting for an answer.

  “Yeah!” Mike was surprised to see it was the Ranger as he noticed the Mexican Peso style star on the lapel of his dark suit coat. Mike looked the man over completely. Blue jeans, boots, hat and a tie finished what passed for the Ranger uniform. Mike knew, even though he couldn’t see it, that the Ranger’s gun was most likely a 1911 .45 caliber, guess I’m batting a thousand for not finding guns tonight, he thought.

  “Texas Ranger Bart Murphy, can I have your weapon?” He was taller than Mike, maybe six one, he had a voice that had seen too many Marlboro, and a demeanor that would make a bulldog back up.

  Mike unholstered the Glock and gave it to him. Chief Tolliver came walking over as the exchange was taking place and Mike instantly knew the news was bad.

  “Bart, glad you made it over here so fast. Mike, he’s DRT. Just waiting on the JP now.” Mike slumped inside as he knew DRT was cop jargon, more like Chief Tolliver jargon, for dead right there, and in Texas you can’t be officially dead on scene until a Justice of the Peace, who is an elected official, says so, even if you have an alley full of EMT personnel. “I want you to go home for now. You can talk about this later today at the office.”

  Mike glanced at his watch and noticed it was four thirty in the morning. Where did all that time go? Two and a half hours since the call came in, now a man was dead, and the Ranger has my gun. Mike and noticed the dried blood on his hands as he went to rub his face. The dead man’s blood. Mike nodded to the Chief and walked back toward the street to go to Smith’s Market to get his patrol car. The whole time he was walking away he was silently hoping they would find the gun.

  2

  “We didn’t find a gun. It was nowhere in the alley. We did find a cellphone.” The Ranger said.

  Mike had come to the police department after being scared awake by the alarm clock, which interrupted his dream, then after a quick shower he came here to meet with the Chief and Ranger. Mike could not remember the Ranger’s name. Mike and the Ranger had just finished going over the early morning events in the alley for the second time. Chief Tolliver had told Mike to wait and give a statement later as was his right, but Mike knew his story was the truth and that his version of what happened would not change. He signed his written statement sliding it across the conference room table to Ranger Whatshisname and fighting the urge to puke as Ranger something was reading over it. There were drawings, pictures from the scene in the alley, and files scattered across the table, all part of the Ranger’s investigation.

  “Your story is, he came out of the store after shooting the glass door. You chased him to the alley, you seen him and gave commands, he lifted his gun, then you killed him?” He said, after reading the statement.

  “I shot to remove the threat I felt on my life. I didn’t aim to kill him.” Mike’s anger rising.

  “One shot, in the dark, you hit him dead center, from twenty yards away. Are you some kind of sniper, or expert shot?”

  Murphy! That was this Ranger’s name, something Murphy. Mike felt dizzy, he had developed a headache that was hammering his skull. He should have waited to give his statement; this Ranger was a dick.

  “No! I’m a cop that just killed a young man who I thought had a gun, who had a gun. I seen a gun. If you don’t believe me then we are through.” Raising his voice more than he intended to.

  Murphy gathered all the files and paperwork in one motion as he stood up saying, “I know, I got the video from that shithole store. It shows your bad guy with the gun shooting the glass out as you say. But we haven’t found a gun, yet. That creates a problem for you. We are looking again in daylight. It wasn’t on him when you shot him so there’s no telling where he dumped it. So, as of right now, it looks as if you shot an unarmed man. And I’m the one who gets to say we’re done. We are done!” He yelled as he turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him so hard the ceiling tiles rattled.

  Mike sat gathering his thoughts, then stood and walked out of the conference room into the hallway, he was shaking and fighting to maintain his calm. Chief Tolliver came out of his office from down the hallway and motioned for Mike to come down. He entered the office to see Sergeant Marten and Captain Jim Morgan sitting in the chairs in front of the Chief’s desk.

  Captain Morgan had been with the Colby Police for fifteen years and was the sole detective for the department, Mike got along well with him.

  “Well? What bug is up Murphy’s ass?” Morgan asked, as Mike made his way behind the chairs in order to stand in the corner where the file cabinets were.

  “He didn’t say. We know who this guy is yet?” Mike asked, hoping his voice didn’t sound strained.

  Nobody answered, Morgan shook his head.

  Mike began to feel uncomfortable and was wondering why the Chief had called him down here. Tolliver motioned at the other two prompting Morgan and Marten to get up and leave the office which left Mike and the Chief alone. Tolliver motioned for Mike to sit in one of the empty chairs in front of the desk.

  “Listen, I know the next few days is goin’ to be hard on you. You know you can’t work this case or be involved in any way with the shooting investigation. I’ll be placing you on leave until this is over.”

  Mike knew the procedure but was unfamiliar with the process. It scared him a little inside. He kept reminding himself that this is normal, and nobody is thinking ill of him, he hoped. He needed to know, though.

  “Chief, you believe what I’m telling you right? The Ranger said they could see a gun when he was in the store.”

  Tolliver stood to leave, “You have never lied to me before. I do believe you, but I also believe we need to find the gun, or it won’t matter what anybody believes.”

  3

  Mike left the chief’s office, he slowly walked down the hall to the lobby and made his way outside. Captain Morgan was waiting for him in the parking lot. Morgan walked up to him with a scowl on his face.

  “Wanna go with me?”

  “I’m on leave. I can’t do nothing.”

  “Well, I’m not sitting here waiting for the mighty Texas Rangers to investigate one of us. I’m going to the scene, if you’re up for it, we could walk through it again.”

  Mike was conflicted, at least this would feel like doing something instead of sitting home alone with his thoughts. On the other hand, Chief would have his ass if he was caught at the scene. Getting in Morgan’s unmarked pickup Mike said, “I’m not supposed to be involved with this investigation. Chief just told me that.”

  “I’m not part of the shooting investigation either. But I don’t want one of our officer’s fate trusted to an outside agency. Even the Texas Rangers. We are just going to look around. Don’t worry about it.”

  Mike knew Morgan always seemed to not trust other cops who didn’t have a Colby police badge. They sat in silence as Morgan drove back to the scene.

  There was ply
board in the door where the glass had been, that was the first thing Mike noticed as they drove past Smith’s Market and turned right. Morgan stopped at the mouth of the alley as crime scene tape blocked the entrance. The Ranger said there were people looking for the gun, but they must have been looking on Mars, because the alley was empty.

  As they got out of the pickup, Morgan led the way stepping under the yellow tape into the alley, Mike walked slowly behind him feeling like a trespasser crossing into a forbidden area. He could see the events unfold again in his memory and felt the urge to either cry or throw up, or maybe both. Morgan’s voice broke into the horror movie that was playing in Mike’s mind.

  “Stand where you were last night.”

  Mike walked to the spot he would never forget standing. Morgan went to about where the gunman had stood which was easy to see since there was blood stains and trash from EMS laying there marking the place where a young life had ended violently. The alley which felt so foreboding and eerie in the dark was much less intimidating in the daylight. All the movements Morgan was making was clear and easy to see.

  Morgan turned to face Mike, “Now, you shoot me, I fall back, or I fall down. Where the hell does the gun go?” There was only empty space around the site. Morgan continued to look around, Mike started to think it was the proverbial needle in the haystack when he seen Morgan look up at the back of the building that would be the rear of Smith’s Market. Morgan took several steps back and began jumping in an effort to get a better look. It was hard to tell what it was, but it was worth checking out.

  “Mikey, help me roll this dumpster over so I can get up there.” Mike came over, confused as to what Morgan was doing. Together they rolled the heavy dumpster close to the building and Morgan climbed up on it. He looked over edge onto the roof and saw it laying there. Everyone was looking on the ground for a gun, but nobody had looked up.