by D. Humphries
Lost Honor
Also by D. Humphries
(Cole and Hudson Series)
The Enforcer
Release Date – April 2016
(Wilkins and Silver Series)
The Perfect Murder
Release Date - April 2016
LOST
HONOR
D. Humphries
Imaginix, Inc.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real person, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
If you purchase this book without a cover you should be aware that this book may have been stolen property and reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher. In such case neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
Copyright © 2016 by D. Humphries
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
Cover design by Manish Joshi
Imaginix, Inc.
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Visit our website at www.diannehumphries.com
Printed in the United State of America
First U.S. Hardcover: Kindle version only
ASIN: B01E9P8XKK
Acknowledgments
My thanks to all of my friends and family who have been there every step of the way to encourage and support me.
I would especially like to thank Ann for always being there…
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Prologue
IN A SMALL TOWN LIKE SUMMIT SPRINGS, SOUTH CAROLINA, no one expected to witness the type of crime popularized in Chicago news outlets. The most anyone braced themselves for was unarmed robbery. In fact, the last serious case of armed robbery occurred years prior, and the weapon of choice had only been a switchblade.
Not that there weren’t other petty crimes which occurred on a daily basis. But the more serious crimes were left for the larger cities dotting the coast.
This day marked a change in Summit Springs that not even the police could have anticipated.
Sirens blared down the road from the shopping plaza. Red and blue reflected off the windows of every store. Right on the edge of the strip, the shooter crouched below the shelter of a car, occasionally shooting blindly over the hood.
“We don’t have time to wait. Too many possible civilian casualties.” Connor tightened his grip around the service pistol.
His partner, Marcus, nodded agreement, craning his head over the cover of their own vehicle to better ascertain the situation. “Still sure we’ve only got one shooter?”
“Pretty damn sure. He’s almost empty. Wait for the reload, then we take him.”
Another police car veered into the plaza. From it, a third officer emerged and crouched his way towards Connor and Marcus. “He still shooting?”
“Yeah,” Connor scowled. “He’s almost out though. Soon as he moves to reload, we move on him.”
“Got it.”
The shooter refused to offer any remarks. No retorts, no taunts, nothing at all to indicate his emotions could be played with. Connor didn’t mind the silence as much as he did how long the altercation had stretched on for.
Hopefully, all the pedestrians had evacuated, but in the age of social media, he knew better than to assume anyone else knew better. He signaled for his officers to drop a little lower, and just then the shooter raised his arms above cover to let loose more fire from his semi-automatic.
Then it hit all of their ears, the green light they’d been waiting for: the weapon clicked.
“Go,” Connor yelled as he vaulted over the hood of the police car. Five meters separated their car from the shooter’s cover.
Connor burst halfway that distance before he realized that something was wrong. Something should have been happening that wasn’t.
The shooter wasn’t running.
“Down!” came his next command. Pistol still gripped tightly, he fell to the ground and let off four good shots beneath the car with the hope that at least one would catch the shooter’s foot or leg.
No such luck.
And above him, the shooter re-emerged, letting off a volley from a different weapon—this one fully automatic.
Amidst the sound of dozens of bullets emptying from the weapon, Connor made out a sound he prayed he’d never have to hear. It was the sound of a bullet tearing into an officer’s tactical vest. There wasn’t even a scream, only the grunt of pain that preceded the officer collapsing dead to the ground.
Connor rolled along the ground to better position himself. Then he found exactly what he needed to see. A small chunk of the shooter’s leg was visible. Connor didn’t need to think. He just pulled the trigger.
A squeal from behind the car. The clanking of metal. And then the sound of footsteps disappearing into the night.
Connor’s blood boiled, but he couldn’t be bothered to pursue. He leapt to his feet and froze where he stood. Marcus lay there unmoving, four holes in his uniform and one bullet lodged in his skull.
Slumped over the police car was the third officer. Blood ran down the side of the vehicle and dripped from the tip of his fingers. Those fingers attached to a hand attached to a limp, swaying arm. And then the sound of sirens, still blaring in the background, seemed to fade until everything was silent.
Connor dropped to his knees and cursed himself. His trembling hands could hardly operate the radio, so he eventually gave up attempting any call for help. The way he saw it, it didn’t matter anyway whether the ambulance came right then or later. He’d seen enough corpses in his line of work to know that both of the men were dead.
Chapter 1
OLIVIA COULDN’T EVEN GET A GOOD LOOK AROUND before someone shouted “Hey, you!” from across the police station. She attached it to the face of a scruffy man lumbering towards her. Heavy bags hung beneath his eyes and his wispy brown hair scattered every which way. “You’re the new girl, aren’t you?”
Olivia nodded and stepped forward. She extended her hand for a shake but the man brushed it off.
“Sorry if it’s a bit hectic around here. You might have heard that we’re dealing with some tough shit.”
“The boy murderer.”
The scruffy man chuckled. “I’d hardly call him a boy. Childish maybe, but not a boy. When we catch this guy, he’s paying the price like any guy his age. I don’t give a damn who his parents are. Anyway, follow me. We don’t deal with this kind of thing often. Well, before I start, let’s get you settled in.”
Olivia followed the officer, yet to be formally introduced, through the maze of desks to a hallway in the back of the room.
“To your right, you’ve got the interrogation room. Doesn’t see much use, but it’s down the corridor on the right and on the left is administration. Our own little West Wing.”
Stepping through the heavy metal door into the administrative corridor was like stepping into a different world. All the noise died out. Finally, it was quiet.
“You’ve read the reports, right? So you know that there were casualties at the shooting and that Connor was the only officer on site who made it out of there.”
“Yes, I’ve heard, I
was actually hoping I could learn a little more about it. There seems to be quite a bit that didn’t make the papers. And the shooter, I’d like to learn about his past.”
The scraggly officer smiled for the first time since Olivia’s arrival. “Oh, don’t you worry about that. Your ‘boy murderer’ will be your first case.”
They stopped at the end of the hall where a door stood blocking their path. And in bold black letters painted onto the glass windows read CONNOR. “To be honest, I planned on keeping him off this case. After what he experienced, no way in hell he can be level-headed or impartial about all this. That’s where you come in. You’ve got the right skillset for a case like this and he’s got all the intel.”
Olivia pulled back, slightly. She expected the case to be a big deal, but for her to jump right into it on her first day was beyond her wildest expectations. The foundations of the town must have truly been jeopardized for them to resort to using her on such short notice. From a logistic perspective, it made sense. But it was certainly a wild move.
She didn’t even have time to form a proper response when the door swung open. Cold, steely eyes greeted her. Olivia thought about it briefly, the image in the papers, and how he’d appeared so stern.
It had only been a few days since the incident, but it was clear that the night still tore at him. His short, brown hair was just as unkempt as the scruffy man’s, though his beard was shaven. Tips of bristles barely poked through their pores. The effect was lovely, because it gave attention to his sharp jaw.
“Nice to meet you, Connor. I’m the new Detective. Olivia.”
Remembering how the scruffy man greeted her, she decided against offering her hand. Quite to her surprise, the expression of exhaustion wiped clean off Connor’s face. He smiled warmly and gestured for her to enter. Then he nodded away at the scruffy man and closed the door.
He got right to business, spreading documents across the desk. “Normally, I’d be the first to give you a proper welcome,” he explained, “but the way things are going around here, we can’t afford to fall back on the case. Need to keep morale high.”
He flashed a disarming, toothy smile; Olivia couldn’t help but to smile back.
“What do we know about the killer?”
Connor pushed one particular document forward.
“His parents both held high positions at the local church, so we know quite a bit about his childhood, notably what life was like for him growing up. For reasons we can get into later, it wasn’t easy.
As for the night of the shooting, eyewitnesses helped us piece together a pretty good description. Cheeky little bastard’s running around in combat fatigues.
He’s got at least one semi-automatic weapon and one fully automatic—I can personally vouch for that.”
His eyes narrowed as he robotically recalled those last few details. Olivia straightened up in her seat.
“How much ammunition he has, who the hell knows. It’s not a concern either. We treat him like he’s got a portable armory on him, got it?”
Olivia nodded.
“Now, next to that, he’s also got a crossbow. All the high-tech weaponry available and he brings a crossbow with him. Imagine that. Then there’s his knife. We’re not sure about the specifics—multipurpose or whatever—but several witnesses put eyes on it, so we’ve also got to consider him dangerous in close quarters combat.”
“Man. Hard not to wonder where he gets all these weapons from though.”
“Same place as anywhere else,” Connor sighed.
“Okay, fair but how? It shouldn’t be that easy to get all those guns. We’re talking about automatic weapons here.”
Now Connor’s lighthearted expression turned sour. He leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes. “Right to bear arms wouldn’t be worth much if we couldn’t even buy them.”
“It’s not about buying them, Connor. It’s about ease of access. It’s about needing permits, screenings. It’s about keeping guns out of the hands of people like this.”
Olivia pushed a headshot of the killer across the table towards Connor.
“People here knew he was in a bad place. Why would they sell him guns? They might as well be complicit in all this.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Connor rose from his seat, eyes on fire. “If anyone is shaken up about this, it’s me. I watched two good men die. I watched my partner die. The last thing I need is some new blood telling me how my city should be run.”
Olivia followed suit, coming to her feet.
“You just might want to consider that if there was more control, you wouldn’t have any funerals to attend.”
That said, she swung open the door and marched back outside where all the noise could drown out her frustration.
Chapter 2
TO HER SURPRISE, THERE WASN’T ANY NOISE OUT ON THE FLOOR. Olivia hurried down the hallway to see what had brought on the silence, and there everyone was huddled around the front center of the room.
The scruffy man held a phone to his ear and was frantically jotting down notes on a scrap of paper. Olivia crossed half the distance to the group of cops when the scruffy man slammed down the phone.
“Someone get Connor in here now!” His eyes darted around the room, locking on to Olivia. “New girl, grab your partner. We’ve got a lead.”
Great. The last thing she wanted was to have to go out into the field with the man she only just tussled with. But they were both professionals, and she trusted that professionalism would win out over their ego’s.
Steeling herself for their first deployment, she rushed back to the office and delivered the news. He didn’t smile at her but instead rushed out ahead of her. Still, she figured his sternness had nothing to do with her. Connor was too close to the case.
“For God’s sake, Commissioner, tell me we know where this guy is,” said Connor in an extremely anxious tone.
The scruffy man, Commissioner Michael (Mike) Casey, stepped forward while waving the scrap of paper.
“It’s too early for us to establish a pattern so who the hell knows. I want you to be careful.” He glanced over at Olivia. “Show her the ropes. We got a report of a trespasser in someone’s backyard. If it is him, he’s practically handing himself over to us.”
“Let’s hope we’re that lucky. Olivia.”
With a gesture, Connor summoned his partner, and she strode silently at his side out of the station. A couple of other officers followed, they got in their cars, and the group was off.
Olivia couldn’t bear to start a conversation, so she looked out the semi rolled down window instead. She started thinking about all the reasons she moved to this particular town. She wanted to get away from the hustle and bustle of the big city to find a place that offered that “small town” feeling. With a young son, her concern was the safety and security such a place could offer.
Summit Springs, South Carolina illustrates the grandeur of colonial wealth, a bygone era being preserved everywhere you look. Around the city you will hear a gentle harmony of church bells and rustling palmetto fronds.
Church steeples - not skyscrapers - dot the skyline. The connection to the past is so well preserved that citizens feel a tangible connection to the past and this in turn permeates throughout the community.
In researching places to live, this was it. Summit Springs had a low crime rate, lots of outdoor activities, parks, beaches and recreation. The school system was rated #1 in the state and it offered several higher learning institutions. It was, in her mind, the perfect place to raise her son.
On the way to the scene they passed the Candlewood promenade and Waterfront Park which both overlook Summit Springs Harbor, while Fort Hitchcock, a Federal stronghold lies across the water. With its expansive harbor and rivers, Summit Springs is rich in maritime history.
A great, clear river cut the city in two. On one side were the commercial buildings and on the other, were the residential areas. They intermingled here and there but not so much to disrupt the
general scheme.
Olivia could smell the river. It carried a wooden aroma with it like the wood from all those houses had seeped into it.
Connor crossed the river via a bridge bringing them into the heart of the residential area. Rows of houses lined the streets of the subdivision, and quaint, family-owned businesses were sprinkled along the main roads. Idyllic was the perfect word to describe it.
In a place as pretty as this, Olivia thought it a shame that it should harden men like Connor. She wondered which of the houses was his and imagined a beautiful woman waiting at home for him. Whoever she was, she had to be the kind of woman who would share his sentiments.
Her thoughts began to turn sour, so Olivia turned away from thinking. She remained quiet and unmoving until she felt Connor’s firm grasp on her shoulder.
“Get ready,” he said and threw open the door. His hand lingered over his pistol as he approached the house where the trespasser was said to be. The front door looked unassuming but the backyard’s gate door welcomed them, wide open.
Olivia followed Connor’s lead along the side of the house. He slunk along it with such elegance it was difficult to remain frustrated with him. If nothing else, he was good at his job.
From the side of the house, he bound for the side of the fence and pressed against it. He raised a hand to halt Olivia, which she abided by. Then he counted down fingers. Three, two, one…
Connor pulled the gun from its holster, spun around into the backyard and screamed out. “Freeze!”
Olivia leapt into action behind him.
Standing in the middle of the backyard, the trespasser held both hands behind his back. He wore his hair unkempt, dressed in an undershirt and jean jacket, and poorly cut jean shorts. He turned to face the detectives with hollow eyes.
