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The Wrath Walker (The Wrath Series Book 1)

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by Matthew Newson


  “I’m very sorry again, Mrs. Vaughn,” I said with genuine compassion in my voice. She seemed like the kind, sweet, and beautiful woman all men dreamt of marrying, but few ever found. She was truly one of the good ones, but it was the good ones that were always used and taken advantage of in life.

  She dried her eyes and placed the folder in her large purse. She stood up and tried her best to give me a smile as she pulled out an envelope and handed it to me.

  Her lovely voice cracked a few times as she tried to speak. “Thank you, Mr. Farmer, and here is four thousand in cash, as we agreed.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Vaughn, and call me Brandon. You don’t have to call me Mr. Farmer.”

  “Okay, Brandon, and you can call me Alex,” she said as she flashed a quick smile. I could tell she felt somewhat touched by the simple act of insisting she call me by my first name, which I had done since the first day we met.

  “Thank you, Alex, all things considered, I hope you have a good night.” I walked her to the door that led out to the hall. “If you need anything else, please feel free to give me a call.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief when she left, and I was able to close and lock the door. It was a little after five in the evening, and I had no other client booked that day. I just needed that meeting to end so I wouldn’t fixate on Lizzie, but it was too late. My mind had already started down memory lane, as I opened the only other door along the right wall that revealed the small room of my living quarters. I had a single size bed, a nightstand with some pictures, a small fridge, and a dresser for my clothes. I didn’t own a TV because I had gotten tired of seeing my name in the morning and evening news headlines a few years ago. Besides, I had a smart phone, which was like having a TV. I opened the envelope and quickly counted the money, and it was all there, but most of it was already gone to pay my old lawyer fees. I had sold about everything I had, and I had only made a dent in the debt I owed that blood-sucking attorney. Everything in that room was all that was left from my old life, before my old detective partner, Ron Horn, ruined everything. Truth be told I wanted to blame Ron for everything, but I was just as responsible as he was for what happened.

  I stepped into the small bathroom, washed my face, and checked myself out in the mirror. My once dark hair was rapidly graying due to the constant stress, guilt, and shame I carried every day. I dried my face, and then sat on the edge of my bed. I leaned back against the wall and looked at the picture of my father and me when I graduated from the police academy. That was one of the happiest days of my life. My dad was so proud of me, but then again, he had always been my biggest fan. It had only been him and I since the time I was eight years old. We were all in a head-on collision, and only my dad and I survived. Dad never remarried after that, he told me Jesus was all he needed as we went to church every Sunday. He was at every baseball game, school play, and every major event of my life. I couldn’t have asked for a better father.

  Soon after I graduated from the academy, I started as a beat cop, with the Black Castle Police Department. My father’s bookstore was on my daily route, and I stopped in and checked on him every time I was on patrol. He lit up when he’d see me in my uniform and tell me I was doing the Lord’s work by protecting the people of our fair city. I told him how I wanted to work my way to becoming a detective, and all of a sudden, he started getting in training books on how to be a detective. He’d give them to me two at a time and told me they just showed up in his order. He was always doing stuff like that for me, trying his best to help me achieve my dreams. About three years in, I met a woman named Elizabeth Well, but I called her Lizzie for short. She had just transferred in from another precinct to become a detective, and we connected immediately, but we had to keep our relationship a secret since we worked together. The department frowned on inter-office romances because they had caused a myriad of human resource and legal problems in the past. I had heard stories of how hostile things got when a couple had broken up, and one had moved on before the other, or if cheating had been a factor. There seemed to be a lot of unfaithful people in the city.

  I remember the day I stopped in and told him about her.

  “Dad, I have some great news to tell you.”

  He stepped down the ladder. “Hello, Officer Farmer. What can I do for you on this lovely day?”

  “Dad, I wanted to tell you about a girl I started seeing. She’s amazing, super smart, black hair, athletic, extremely motivated, and knows how to fight,” I said with a big stupid smile on my face.

  My dad looked puzzled, as if he was trying to find the words to say. “That’s great son, but tell me, is the girl a fellow officer?”

  “Yeah, and I know what you’re going to say. We need to be careful, and keep it quiet, which we have already planned to do. The best part is she wants to be a detective as well. Isn’t this great?”

  My father took a deep and labored breath and leaned up against a bookshelf. “It’s not that I’m not happy for you, son, but don’t you think it’s a little reckless to date someone you work with?”

  “I know dad, but we are going to be careful,” I said with a hint of frustration since I thought he would be more excited with my news.

  “I’m sure you will, but you have wanted to be a detective since you were a kid. What are you going to do when your boss finds out, because he will, and what are you going to do if you both become detectives? Have either of you given any thought about what might happen if it doesn’t work out? That can make your workplace miserable, son. Take it from me. Before I met your mother, God rest her soul, I dated a girl I worked with and it didn’t work out. She broke it off with me to go back to her ex-boyfriend, and she rubbed my face in it every day for some reason. She made my life a living hell at work until I finally found another job and got out of there. Then I met your mother, and the rest is history.”

  My joy in the moment was crushed by my father’s simple words of reason and logic, and I had nothing to say in response. What could I say, I had let my emotions override my reason, and I promised myself that day to never let that happen again.

  My father placed his hand on my shoulder like he had always done to comfort me in difficult times.

  “I know you, son, and I can tell your heart is set on this girl. Just promise me you will be careful, okay?”

  “I will, Dad.”

  Lizzie and I were extremely careful that year, and no one suspected we were an item. We studied together every day for our detective exam, and we ended up taking our test on the same day. That night Lizzie, my dad, and I celebrated, and my father had us over for a big dinner he prepared for us. In spite of his earlier concerns, he loved Lizzie as much as I did, but that would be the last time I’d see my father alive. Ten days later I received my exam results. I’d passed with flying colors. I rushed to my dad’s bookstore to tell him, but when I got there I watched as he was loaded into an ambulance and taken to the hospital. He slipped into a coma and passed away later that night from a massive heart attack he suffered earlier in the day. I sat by his side and held his hand as he breathed his last and passed away peacefully.

  I remembered very little of my mother since she died when I was so young, but my father was my whole world. When he died, part of me died with him. A large group of officers and just about all of my father’s regular customers came to my father’s funeral and paid their respects on that gloomy fall afternoon. The overcast sky and cold breeze seemed to match what I was experiencing in my heart, and that is when I officially met the great Ron Horn.

  “I’m sorry about your father, kid, you have my deepest sympathies.” Ron reached out and shook my hand. He was a solid guy with light brown hair with little to no gray for being in his late forties. The way he carried himself commanded respect from others around him. He was a powerhouse from his years of weight training and boxing, which I had witnessed firsthand from training in the precinct gym.

  “I know this may not be a good time to talk about work, but whenever you’re ready to get ba
ck into the thick of it, you’ll be partnered with me. How does that sound, kid?”

  In that moment of misery, I felt like I had been thrown a lifeline and won the lottery all at the same time. Ron had an outstanding record and seemed like there wasn’t a case he couldn’t solve. He was something of a celebrity at work, and I was immediately starstruck, and that would cost me dearly. For all my skilled observations, I was blind when it came to Ron. I thought he could do no wrong.

  I thought back on my response as I tripped over every word that came out of my mouth. “Me? I...uh. Well...a... That sounds great, but didn’t you have a partner already?”

  The right side of Ron’s face tilted up in a half smile, and I knew now he was drinking in the praise I laid on him. “I did kid, but they’re retiring and moving on to bigger and better things. I have been hearing some good things about you.”

  “Me? Like what?”

  “Yes you, and things like, this kid has an eye for detail like no other, and that your score was one of the highest in the precinct on the detective exam. I asked our boss if you could be assigned to me. I think we’d be unstoppable together. What do you think?”

  I pumped his hand up and down in our handshake. “Yeah! Yes, I’m honored that would be great.”

  “Okay, I just need one thing, kid.”

  “Yes, anything,” I said like an overexcited child.

  “I’m going to need my hand back.”

  I quickly released Ron’s hand, and felt like the biggest idiot in the world. “Yes sir, I’m sorry about that.”

  I felt like I had received a little bit of hope on one of the worst days of my life. Lizzie not being able to stand next to me when they lowered my father’s casket into the ground was extremely hard, but we both knew why she couldn’t be by my side.

  I took two weeks to settle my father’s affairs, and Lizzie helped me while I tried to manage my grieving heart. As soon as everything was done, I tossed myself back into work to distract my mind from the pain of the loss.

  “Welcome back, kid, are you ready for the big leagues?” Ron said as I walked in the door on my first day as a detective.

  “Yes sir,” I happily responded.

  “Good, now let’s get to work.”

  I always knew there was an element of organized crime in the city of Black Castle, but I had no idea as to how deep or far it ran. Ron went over a massive case he had worked on for over a year against the Ricci family. That apparently wasn’t the only Italian mob family in the city. There was also the Amara family, but Ron assured me they were too small to be of any real threat. He also said after we took down the Riccis, we would go after the Amaras.

  So, we went to work.

  Over the next two years, we dismantled practically the entire Ricci family crime ring. We shut down their illegal gambling and sports betting operations, which accounted for the majority of their empire. They didn’t like that, and they even tried to kill Ron and myself a few times. They put a bomb on his car, and the thing didn’t even go off. They did an old-fashioned, drive-by shooting on me, but I was able to hide behind a car for protection. Ron and I wouldn’t be intimidated, and he kept after the Riccis. Ron taught me so much about being a detective in that first year, and when he started asking me to do little favors for him, I didn’t mind. I would mail packages for him from time-to-time. He said they were care packages for his elderly mother. I’d even drop off a deposit or two for him at his bank on my way home from the extra side jobs all cops do to help make ends meet.

  I had worked harder in those two years than I had in my life, and it caused Lizzie and I to drift apart. The worst part of all is I didn’t see how Ron was using me to help him take out the competition for the Amaras. As we shut down an area of illegal business for the Riccis, the Amaras quietly came and restored it under their authority, so they could reap the benefits. I was blind to my problems with Lizzie and the other criminal activity because I looked to Ron as a surrogate father who could do no wrong. I believed whatever he told me to think about a situation. One time he asked if I would help him on a side job that consisted of bodyguard work for some businessmen who were a little rattled by what was going on in the streets. The Riccis lashed out from our work costing them their hold on the city. I told him sure, but Lizzie warned me that it didn’t seem right. I told her she had to be mistaken, and that Ron was one of the best cops on the force.

  That evening when I showed up, Ron, a number of low-level Amaras, and some random Black Castle citizens were arrested when the FBI raided the Amara’s secret and illegal poker game. I, too, was arrested that night in connection with Ron and the Amara family, and brought in for questioning.

  Apparently, the packages Ron had me send were not care packages to his elderly mother, and the deposits turned out to be extra money the Amaras paid Ron for his services in aiding them in dismantling the Ricci’s organization. The FBI had pictures of me sending the packages and dropping off the deposits, and several pictures of Ron performing many other illegal activities. I was mortified at what I saw. Part of me still was.

  I was immediately suspended pending the investigation, but I knew at that moment my career was over. The looks all of my fellow officers gave me are still burned in my mind. Lizzie posted my bond, and I was placed under house arrest until the trial. The night Lizzie bailed me out of jail, she ended our relationship.

  As we stepped outside of the jail, she turned to me with tears in her eyes. “How could you do this to us?”

  I was beyond ashamed of myself, and still in shock over what Ron had been doing. “I’m sorry, Lizzie. I had no idea what Ron was doing. You have to believe me.”

  “Well, I don’t. I don’t believe you. I told you so many times, and you brushed me off every time like I didn’t even matter.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  “Lizzie, please don’t do this to me, not now. I love you.”

  “It’s not just this, but it’s everything from the past two years. I’m sorry, Brandon, I really am, but it’s over. There’s someone else.”

  After the reality that the love of my life had left me, my mentor was a criminal, and it looked like I was going to jail for a long time sank in, I realized my life was forever ruined. For the first time since they passed, I was glad my parents were dead, so they would not see how far I had fallen from grace. Ever since my arrest, the only time I ever visited my parents’ gravesite was on the anniversary of my father’s death, and even that was a battle to bring myself to go. The guilt and shame I carried was hard enough to block out, but the thought of how disappointed my father would have been with me was too much to bear at times.

  The only reason I wasn’t in jail still was because Ron testified in court that I had no idea what I was doing. He said he knowingly and willingly took advantage of my fondness for him to get me to do those things for him because he knew I’d never question him as to why. Several things happened that day for me. First, the prosecutor dropped the charges against me as part of Ron’s plea-bargain agreement he had worked out before he testified in open court. Second my career as a detective was finished. Ron described me like a lost puppy that followed him around, and in a way, he was right, and I hated him for it and so much more. I still don’t know why he worked to clear me, but I’m sure he had an ulterior motive.

  Since the prosecutor couldn’t prove how long Ron had worked for the Amaras, and no one was getting up to testify, the prosecutor didn’t know how much dirty money he got paid, or any other crimes he may or may not have committed. Ron got sentenced to five years, but he had gotten out in two for good behavior and being a first-time offender. The judge had to have been corrupted by the Amaras as well, and I was sure Ron had done worse things for the family. Ron really liked knives for some odd reason, and he loved talking about how he could take someone with a knife just as quick as I could with my gun. I wondered if he had ever used any of those high-end knives I bought him for his birthday and Christmas to kill anyone. If he had, those p
eople’s blood was as much on my hands as they were Ron’s.

  I hated the nights when my mind forced me to relive the past horrible years of my life. I wasn’t married, I lived in an office space in a not-so-good part of town, all my money went to pay lawyer fees, and I was forced to track down deadbeats for a living. I didn’t think even those law books by my desk were going to distract me from that walk down memory lane, which I had already begun.

  I picked up the picture of my dad and I at my academy graduation and stared at it for a moment. “I’m sorry, dad,” I whispered to myself.

  As I set down the photo my phone rang, and I didn’t recognize the number. I could tell by the area code it was someone in the city. Probably another person who needed to find out if their spouse was running around on them, which seemed to happen more than it should. Since I needed the money, I decided to answer it.

  “Hello, this is Brandon Farmer.”

  I was greeted by a familiar, but erratic voice on the other end.

  “Hey kid, it’s me, Ron. I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from, but I think the Riccis are trying to kill me. You got to help me, kid!”

  I was immediately enraged by the sound of his voice. “Well, I hope they succeed in their endeavor. Don’t call me again, Ron,” I snapped back.

  “Kid, please don’t hang up. I know you have every right to hate me, but you’re the only good person I know. You have to help me, I’m desperate! You can’t let them kill me, and if they’re coming for me then they’ll be coming for you as well. You’re just as responsible as I am for destroying their hold on the city. A lot of the Riccis got killed because of the stuff we did.”

  “No, because of the stuff you pulled, you lying sack of crap. I was trying to clean up the city, while you were lining your pockets with every dirty dollar bill you could get your hands on.”

 

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