Sneak peek of Eraser (The Casper Halliday NYPD Series Book 5)

One

Casper Halliday held open the main door to the apartment complex. Two teen-aged girls smiled and walked into the building.
“Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome,” Casper said.
The girls huddled their heads together and giggled as they walked toward the elevators.
“…cute…!”

Casper hardly noticed that the girls seemed to find him attractive. He had far too much on his mind, and none of it was the least bit romantic. He didn’t expect his ride to show up for another hour, but he couldn’t stand to stay in the empty apartment one more minute. It was going to be a big day.
A very emotional day. Casper took a deep breath.
If only today’s happy reunion was all there was to think about.
Casper had lived with a frightening new realization for less than a day. It had not let him sleep hardly at all. No one else in the world was aware of it.
And he didn’t know if he should mention it to anyone.
The man who hated Casper with a passion would soon become the city’s mayor. Casper had watched Shane Murphy whisper with a distinguished-looking man after the conclusion of Murphy’s public rally.
Casper heard the man’s Russian accent. This triggered a memory that had escaped Casper until that moment.
It was the words of Sara Lawson as she died in Casper’s arms—from a bullet from her lawyer’s gun.
“…Rush…Russian…mafia…”

There were two empty park benches available for Casper to wait. He passed them by. He paced slowly, trying to appear relaxed as a show for the people who continued to enter and exit the building.
I can’t keep this to myself. I have to tell someone. But they’ll think I’m crazy. Oh, by the way, did I tell you that I saw our new Mayor talking to a man with a Russian accent? I think he’s part of the Russian Mafia. Why do I think that? Well, you see, right before Sara Lawson died she said ‘Russian Mafia’. I think she meant that her lawyer was connected with the mafia. Did I report that to anyone? No, it slipped my mind until just a few days ago.
They’ll put me in the loony bin. Or they’ll fire me.
And I can kiss the detective badge goodbye forever.
Dammit, it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks—this is important. Evidence like this could have far-reaching consequences. And it’s much too big for me.
Casper knew what he had to do, but he dreaded it.
Casper finally sat. People looked at him like he might be slightly unhinged.
If they only knew…

Casper sat, but he couldn’t be still. The wind was picking up. Casper put his elbows on his knees. He unconsciously rocked back and forth. Two young boys rolled up on scooters. Casper recognized them, but he didn’t know their names. They were brothers who live on the same floor as him and his father, Bobby, for almost a year.
“Hi,” the older boy said.
“How’s it going?” Casper said.
The boy sighed.
“Another super-boring day.”
“Come on, now,” Casper said. “What could be better? It’s not raining. It’s not snowing. You and your brother have sweet scooters—you’re the Captains of the Sidewalk.”
“You talk funny,” the boy said.
“That’s what I’ve heard,” Casper said. “What’s your name?”
The boy lowered his eyes and didn’t answer.
“Oh,” Casper said. “You’re probably not supposed to talk to strangers. That’s good. But I live down the hall from you and your mom, you know. I’m not exactly a stranger.”
The boy looked up with one eye closed.
“I know who you are. You’re a policeman.”
“That’s right,” Casper said. “I’m Casper Halliday.”
“I’m Grayden Miller.”
The boy pointed at his younger brother.
“That’s Stevie.”
Casper held out his hand. The boy shook it.
“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance,” Casper said.

Stevie rolled his scooter closer. He shook hands with Casper. Casper’s hoodie was mostly unzipped. Stevie squinted and looked inside it. His eyes went wide.
“You…you have a gun?”
Casper straightened up, pulling his jacket closed. But the little boy had already seen the butt of his 9mm pistol protruding from his shoulder holster.
“Really?” Grayden said. “I want to see!”
“I’m sorry, guys,” Casper said. “I’m required to carry a gun—but it’s only there in case something really bad happens. I carry a gun to protect innocent people. I hope I never have to use it.”
Grayden wore a dark expression. He looked straight into Casper’s eyes.
“Have you ever used it?”
Casper bit his tongue. He looked away, but the two boys continued to stare at him. The oldest boy was about ten. The younger brother, maybe seven.
“Yes,” Casper said. “I’m not going to lie to you. I’ve had to fire this gun. I’ve had to fire other guns, too—because bad people used their guns first.”
“Did you win?” Grayden asked. “Against the bad people?”
Casper blew out a breath.
“Yeah. So far…we’ve won against the bad people.”

The boys stared at Casper’s chest.
“Daddy had a gun,” Stevie said.
“Does your dad live with you?” Casper said.
The boys shook their heads.
“They had a big fight,” Grayden said, barely louder than a whisper. “Daddy shot his gun in the house. We were scared. He shot the lamp Mom got from her Grandma.”
“I’m sorry,” Casper said.
“We were really scared. The police took him away in their car,” Grayden said. “I think I might want to be a policeman one day.”
“Me, too,” Stevie said.
Casper looked up and down the empty sidewalk. He unsnapped his gun from its holster.
“Here. You can look at it—and touch it if you want. I can’t let you hold it. I could get in big trouble.”
The boys gathered around and viewed the pistol in awe.
“Is it heavy?” Stevie said.
“It’s pretty heavy,” Casper said. “And it kicks back when you fire it. You need to be pretty strong. It takes some training. And some getting used to.”
Casper checked the vicinity again.
“Grayden. I’ll lay it in your hands. Don’t touch the trigger.”
Grayden nodded.
“Yes, sir.”

“Wow,” Grayden said. “It’s real heavy.”
Before Casper could react, Grayden raised the pistol in front of him, holding it with both hands. The barrel was pointed in the air toward the apartment building across the street. Casper leaped to his feet and grabbed the pistol.
“Grayden, no—!”
Panic filled Casper when he heard the voice behind them. It was a woman’s voice.
“Jesus Christ! Grayden! Stevie! What the hell are you—?”
Casper took the gun from Grayden and secured it in his holster.
The woman was furious. Casper recognized her immediately. It was the boys’ mother. She had avoided him dozens of times in the hall, the elevators, and the lobby. Bobby Halliday told Casper the lady acted the same way toward him.

“What in the damn world do you think you’re doing, you idiot?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Miller—”
“Not half as sorry as you’re going to be!” Mrs. Miller snarled. “Is this what we pay taxes for? So the mighty NYPD can put guns into the hands of our freaking children?”
“I’m very sorry, ma’am,” Casper said. “I told them not to pick it up—they said they wanted to be policemen one day—”
“Over my dead body!” the woman said. “You people are all about having power over the citizens and walking around like bad-asses! My boys have no father at home because the bastard shot up our apartment right in front of them! Your goddamn gun needs to be thrown into the deepest part of the ocean! You just wait until I get hold of your superiors—you’ll be lucky if they let you clean the toilets after today.”

The woman pointed at her sons.
“Is this what you do when I let you go out alone? Talk to complete strangers and tell them our names? What else do you tell them?”
“No, Mom—”
“Just shut your mouth!” Mrs. Miller said. “You have exactly two minutes to be inside and at the dining room table with your homework!”
The woman marched behind her boys toward the building’s entrance.
“I didn’t mean any harm, ma’am,” Casper said. “I’m sorry—”
The woman turned long enough to scowl and show Casper both of her middle fingers.
“That’s just great,” Casper muttered.

Casper tried to put the incident behind him. The rest of his day was something to look forward to. He took a deep breath and forced a smile.
Sean Kelly’s SUV pulled in front of the building twenty minutes early. The rear passenger doors opened as soon as the vehicle stopped.
“Cody!” Mona Kelly snapped, but she was laughing.
“Casper!” Cody said. He ran and jumped into Casper’s arms.
“Cody, my man!” Casper said. He hugged Cody tight. He put Cody down and pushed a hand against his own back.
“Five more pounds and we’re going to have to start shaking hands!”
“Never!” Cody said.

Nicky waited on the sidewalk. Casper smiled at her. She smiled back. Casper opened his arms.
Nicky looked down.
“I’m heavier than Cody.”
Casper bit his lip and shook his head.
“I don’t care.”
Nicky leaped into Casper’s arms. He hugged her tight.
“It’s great to see you, Nicky.”
“It’s great to see you, too,” Nicky said. “Am I hurting your back?”
Casper sniffed.
“No. Not at all.”
Sean and Mona looked on. Sean had his arm around Mona. Mona wiped her eyes.
“You know what?” Nicky said.
“What?” Casper said.
“I’m going to be Nicky Kelly. Actually, I will be Nicole Kelly. Mom and Dad said I can pick a middle name—so Nicole is going to be my middle name. Mom and Dad think it sounds better that way.”
Casper looked at Mona and Sean.
“Oh?”
Sean shrugged. Mona squeezed Sean’s arm and smiled.
“So what is your full name then?” Casper said.
“Wendy Nicole Kelly,” Nicky said.
“That’s a beautiful name!” Casper said. “Do you know someone named Wendy?”
Cody stomped his foot.
“You’re being silly, Casper! Wendy is the girl in the movie! The Casper movie!”
“Oh,” Casper said. His voice cracked. He saw Mona and Sean cover their mouths and laugh at him.
“You’ve seen the movie?” Casper said.
“About ten-hundred-thousand times!” Cody said. “Nicky wants to watch it every day!”
“Wow,” Casper said. He wiped his eyes and opened his arms.
“I need another hug, Wendy Nicole.”
They squeezed each other tightly.
“I’m so proud of you,” Casper said.
“I haven’t done anything,” Nicky said.
“Yes, you have,” Casper said. “You’ve made a lot of people very happy.”

No one spoke as Sean slowed to turn into the ranch’s drive. Sean parked his vehicle near the gate. Casper saw Nicky’s hands tremble and saw the tension on her face. He patted her hand.
“It’s going to be okay.”
The front door of the children’s home opened. Children ran toward the gate. Chelsea ran with them. Tears spilled down her cheeks.
Chelsea and Nicky threw their arms around each other. The children following Chelsea added their arms to the embrace until they all fell to the ground in a wave of tears and laughter.
Mona covered her mouth and looked on in silence. Sean wiped his eyes and elbowed Casper.
“I’m not crying—you’re crying.”
“Liar,” Casper said. “I’m not crying—you’re crying.”
Cody was not about to be left out. He ran and joined the pile.

Casper led Sean and Mona through the gate. Chelsea and Nicky continued to cling to each other.
“Hi, Chelsea,” Casper said.
Chelsea choked back a sob.
“Hi. Thank you so much—!”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Casper said. “I’ve been looking forward to this for days.”
“Are you…?” Chelsea said. “Mr. and Mrs. Kelly?”
Mona bit her lip and nodded. She and Chelsea fell into each other’s arms. After a few moments, Chelsea held out her arm to invite Sean to join them. Sean didn’t have to be asked twice.
“I’m sorry for the pain this has caused you,” Mona said.
“A real family,” Chelsea whispered. “It’s all we could have ever asked for. Nicky and I have been together for years. She’s like a sister to me.”
Sean cleared his throat. He pointed to Cody, who was now being introduced to the other children by Nicky.
“That’s Cody—Mona’s son. My stepson. He’s—”
“He’s a special little boy,” Chelsea said. “You don’t have to tell me. I can feel his heart.”
Mona teared up again.
“Thank you.”

“Will you be able to stay awhile?” Chelsea asked.
Casper and Sean looked at each other and shrugged.
“We have nowhere else to be,” Sean said.
“We have all day,” Casper said.
“That’s great!” Chelsea said. “I’ve turned away some other visitors on account of the contractors.”
“I thought I heard saws and hammers,” Casper said. “How is the work going?”
Chelsea smiled.
“Like a dream come true. These guys are wonderful! Where did you find them?”
Casper smiled.
“I know a guy who knows a guy.”
“If it’s okay, I’m going to tell them we’ll stay outside until five,” Chelsea said. “That’s their quitting time.”
“Of course,” Mona said.
“Dinner is almost ready,” Chelsea said. “You’ll eat with us, won’t you?”
“Absolutely,” Sean and Casper said.
“Shall we catch up with the kids and the animals?” Chelsea said.
“Right behind you,” Casper said.

Two

Boris Volkov rubbed his hands together. It was a bitterly cold night with a north wind that cut through his light jacket. He had worked up a slight sweat doing stretches and warming up his muscles. The last thing in the world he wanted was to have his body fail him during a mission.
Boris Volkov was a professional killer.
Volkov was born in Moscow. His mother was a professional “escort” and well compensated for her services. Mila Vinovich was an incredibly beautiful woman. But her beauty had been a curse and a blessing. After being sexually molested by two different uncles as a child, Mila ran away from home. She had nothing. No money. No car. No clothes. No place to stay. Mila resorted to trading sex for money. Soon she was hired by an escort service. One night she was returning home after seeing a client. Mila was abducted while leaving her car. She was taken to a house where she was raped by nine young, drunk soldiers. She got pregnant. Mila went to a clinic to have an abortion, but couldn’t go through with it. She ran away from the clinic in tears. Nine months later, Boris was born. Boris Volkov was not his birth name. His mother named him Michail.

Mila loved her son with a passion. She longed to be able to walk away from her profession, but she had no marketable skills. Sometimes she had nightmares about Michail discovering who his mother was—and what she did for money.
Michail was a delightful child. He slept through the night from the beginning. His babysitter loved him, too. Michail did everything early: Crawling. Walking. Talking. He was extremely inquisitive and loved to learn.

Michail walked home from primary school. It was two days until his seventh birthday. His mother had promised him something very special. Michail had noticed his mother was very happy over the last few days. She had been at home for the last three nights, which had never happened as long as Michail could remember.
What Michail did not know was that Mila had gotten a job—a good job with a good future. Mila was excited thinking about one day taking her son to the office where she worked. Mila took some of the money she had saved and bought a bicycle for Michail’s birthday.

Michail walked through the door and announced that he was home. There was no response. Michail found his mother sprawled in the middle of the living room floor in a puddle of blood.
Her neck had been sliced from ear to ear.

Michail was placed in an orphanage. After a year, he was adopted by an officer of the Russian ground forces and his wife. The officer carried the rank generally translated as “Colonel”. The Colonel and his wife had not been able to have children. They were impressed by Michail and thought him to be a good addition to their family.
Michail was reasonably content living with the Colonel and his wife. The couple was pleased with their new son. They very rarely displayed affection. Michail thought of them as “tough but fair”.
Michail excelled in school. It did not take long for his teachers to notice. With the blessings of the Colonel, Michail was allowed to skip ahead so his education would present him with constant challenges.

Michail joined the Russian Ground Forces as soon as he came of age. Once again, his talents and intellect did not go unnoticed. Michail was placed in a training program where gifted and qualified soldiers became part of an elite team. That team was only known by a few members of the military and the government. Michail Vinovich was about to be completely erased.
Michail was reported dead—the result of a fictitious training accident. He was not allowed to contact his adoptive parents. Michail always wondered if the Colonel and his wife knew he was still alive.
And thus Boris Volkov was born. He was issued only the necessary papers he would need to travel easily. His fingerprints were removed. He was even issued fake documentation explaining the “accident” that damaged his fingertips. “Boris” began more extreme training alongside eight other serious men. This training and the group’s subsequent missions were never part of any official record.

Boris expected his first mission to be something fairly simple; a means to ease into his new duties. That is not what happened.
Boris and four of his associates were briefed on the mission. Three of these men Boris had never seen before. All four were at least ten years older than he was. They were hard-looking men who looked invincible. Brief introductions brought forth only grunts, as the men sized up Boris. They offered Boris extremely firm handshakes and nods. Boris felt their tension. They were not impressed to be on assignment with someone so young.
A Captain briefed the men. The mission involved insertion into the Capitol city inside the United Kingdom. The mission was a political assassination of a man who was gaining popularity. This man vowed to take the country in a direction Russian leaders did not like.
The Captain asked for questions. One of the men motioned toward Boris.
“This is by no means a simple task. But we are to bring along this boy?”
“This boy,” the Captain said, “has attained a multitude of skills beyond anything we have ever seen. He has scored highly with rifles and handguns. Automatic weapons. Explosives. Hand-to-hand combat. He is fluent in English and Spanish. He will soon be fluent in German and French. He has excelled physically, mentally, and emotionally. Do you have any further questions about young Boris?”
“No, Sir!”

The mission progressed smoothly. Their target was to speak from the stage of a public rally. The group of five took their long-range positions. The soldier known as “Sergei” was the most skilled and experienced sniper. He was assigned to make the kill shot. The plan involved Sergei making that one shot before they made their escape.
Boris was positioned near the group leader, Oleg Balakin. The targeted politician took the stage. His family members joined him.
Balakin gave the signal to Sergei. Sergei’s rifle sounded. Balakin watched the stage through his scope to confirm the kill. He shook when heard a shot to his left—or was it two shots? The shots were delayed from Sergei’s shot by only a fraction of a second. Boris was already on his feet and on the move. Balakin dared to take one more look at the stage. Three bodies lay motionless. Balakin leaped to his feet and swore.

An hour later, the group was on an aircraft and safely making a circuitous route home. Oleg Balakin grabbed Boris by the collar.
“It is not my place. I will leave you to the Captain. But you have much to answer for, my young friend.”
Boris nodded.
“Thank you, sir. This does not come as a surprise.”
Balakin shook his head and took a seat—as far from Boris as he could get.

The group sat at the round table. They sipped coffee and did not speak. The door opened and the Captain walked in for the mission debriefing. The men stood and saluted. The Captain saluted and they sat. The Captain said nothing while he looked through his papers. He cleared his throat.
“Gentlemen. The target was fatally wounded. The five of you have returned without capture and without leaving clues of your presence. You are all alive and unharmed. That ends my assessment of the mission. However…the target’s brother and wife were also fatally wounded.”
The Captain put down his papers and steepled his fingers.
“Who violated the mission parameters?”
“I did, sir,” Boris said.
“You do realize this could result in harsh punishment for violating orders?” the Captain said.
“Yes, sir,” Boris said. “But I knew the shots were easy—and that I could make them quickly. From that distance, no one would know there was more than one shot fired from our location. This mission was a political statement, sir. As history has shown, three deaths are better than one in this regard. I made a quick decision. I did not mean to offend anyone. I merely meant to take advantage of an opportunity. If this requires punishment, then I am prepared to endure it.”

The other members of the group kept their heads down, their eyes staring at the table. They clearly believed Boris was out of his mind. For all his talents, he had likely gained himself a death sentence.
The Captain sighed.
“This is most unusual, and this conversation is not to leave this room. Understand?”
The group nodded. The Captain continued.
“As much as it goes against everything I have ever learned in my career, certain high-ranking government officials are thrilled with the mission’s outcome. You are dismissed. Enjoy seventy-two hours of liberty. Volkov, you will remain here.”

The others left the room. Some of them gave Boris Volkov a last thoughtful glance. The Captain waited until the door was closed.
“Volkov, from here on out, your training will be altered. There has been a change in plans for your future. And I have decided on a code name for you—a nickname if you will.
“Lastik.”
Volkov frowned.
“I do not understand, sir.”
“Lastik,” the Captain repeated.

“Eraser.”

Three

Casper parked in front of the office of Chief of Detectives Dwight Livingston. He took the keys from the ignition and sighed.
Casper had not called ahead to make an appointment or to see if Chief Livingston was even in his office. This was not unusual. He never called the Chief’s office. He just took his chances.
The Chief’s receptionist looked up at Casper and smiled.
“To what do we owe the pleasure, Officer Halliday?”
“I just dropped in to see if the Chief was busy,” Casper said.
The receptionist glanced at the clock on the wall.
“He is in a meeting right now. It shouldn’t be much longer. They’ve been in there for over an hour. The rest of his afternoon is clear. I’m sure he’ll be able to see you.”
She winked at Casper.
“He doesn’t make time for just anybody.”
Casper blushed.
“I should start calling first. It’s just—”
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” the receptionist said. “I’m fairly sure you have a lifetime pass.”
“Thank you,” Casper said. He took a seat.

Ten minutes later, three men entered the lobby from the hallway. Casper didn’t recognize them, but he would have bet money that they were detectives. He based this on their suits, their haircuts, the shine on their shoes, and even the set of their jaws. The men sized up Casper as they walked toward the front door. One of the men slowed and stopped. He approached Casper.
“Excuse me. Are you Halliday?”
Casper stood and extended his hand.
“Yes, sir. Casper. Halliday.”
The man shook Casper’s hand and smiled.
“You look a lot like your Dad. And I’ve seen your picture a few times. You’ve made a hell of a splash in the Big Apple. I’m Terry Bolin. Detective.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, Detective Bolin,” Casper said.
One of the other detectives had already passed through the double-doors. The other one lingered, looking impatient and bothered.
“Yo. Bolin. When you’re through gettin’ an autograph from your ex-con hero, we need to get back to the station. It’s quitting time.”
Bolin nodded toward Casper.
“Excuse me, one moment.”

Bolin walked toward the door. He patted Detective Nick Keller on the shoulder. And then he placed his hand around the back of Keller’s neck and squeezed. Bolin leaned toward Keller and spoke softly, but Casper could hear every word.
“You have embarrassed me, Detective Keller. I do not take such a transgression lightly. You have disrespected me, and a brother of the NYPD.”
Keller grabbed Bolin’s arm but was unable to break his grip.
“Don’t think I’m just going to let this go, Terry—”
“I don’t give a shit what you do,” Bolin said. “I’ve got my time in. I can walk away whenever I feel like it. But I am not going to stand here and let you drag my name through the mud along with yours.”
“His old man was crooked,” Keller growled. “This kid is just as crooked. And you know it.”
Bolin shoved Keller toward the door.
“Get out of my sight before I do something I regret,” Bolin said.
Keller straightened his suit collar.
“You’ve got sixty seconds, or we’re leaving without you.”
Bolin took a deep breath. Every muscle in his body shook with rage.
“You do whatever you have the balls for, Keller.”

Casper let out the breath he had been holding. Bolin rolled his shoulders and turned toward Casper.
“I’m sorry about that.”
“That’s okay,” Casper said. “Thanks for…thanks for taking up for me. And my Dad.”
Bolin shrugged.
“I’ve met your dad, but I don’t really know him.”
Bolin winced and cocked his head.
“How much do you know? About your dad’s career, I mean.”
Casper sighed.
“I know everything. We’ve moved past it.”
Bolin looked into Casper’s eyes and then stared at the floor.
“Jesus Christ. The shit you’ve been through. At your age. I can’t imagine.”
When Bolin looked up his eyes were wet.
“And you still put on the uniform. Every goddamned day.”
Casper cleared his throat.
“There’s a lot of pain out there, sir. I’ve seen it. I’ve lived with it. I’ve lived next to it. Every person I can help is a tribute to my mom. And my dad.”
“I think you mean that,” Bolin said.
“I do, sir,” Casper said.
“Jesus,” Bolin said. “I wish you were in my precinct.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
“I would trade you for that prick in a heartbeat.”
“My goal is to make detective,” Casper said. “It’s what my dad wants, too. It’s been that way since…since I was a kid.”
“I want to tell you one more thing,” Bolin said. “I hear you’re tight with Joey.”

Casper held his breath.
“Uh…Joey?”
Bolin closed his eyes for a few seconds.
“Don’t bullshit me, okay?”
“Sorry,” Casper said. “I don’t know how much I’m supposed to say.”
“I understand,” Bolin said. “I just want to make sure you know that not everybody is a fan of Mr. Warmowski. There are some assholes that can’t stand the idea of a rich guy sticking his nose in our jobs—even if he’s helped us out on several occasions. You know what I’m sayin’?”
“Yeah,” Casper said. “I understand.”
Bolin held up his hands.
“I’m just telling you to watch your back. I know you and the Chief are tight. And the Chief is tight with Joey. He’s covered for him more than once. I just want you to know that there are jerks on the force who don’t like it.”
“I understand,” Casper said. “Thanks for the heads-up. I only know Joey…uh, Mr. Warmowski, because of a freak accident. But he saved my life.”
“I get it,” Bolin said. “But Joey seems to be getting more and more involved. Like…maybe since he met you. You know what I mean? Some people don’t like that.”
Casper nodded.
“Yeah. I’m beginning to get the idea.”
Bolin motioned with his head.
“After what you pulled off with the Chief’s daughter I’m not surprised that he favors you. But now that you’re in uniform that rubs some of the boys the wrong way, too.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Casper said. “Apologize for keeping the Chief’s daughter from disappearing forever?”
“No,” Bolin said. “But there are some pricks out here that think you’re gonna use that to leapfrog over them up the ladder for promotions.”
“That’s bullshit,” Casper said.
Bolin shrugged.
“If you say so.”
Bolin jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
“But by tomorrow, Keller will make sure a hundred cops know you were here at the Chief’s office. And you can probably guess what they’ll think.”
Casper’s nostrils flared as he stared at the floor.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Detective Bolin.”

Four

Chief Dwight Livingston stepped into the lobby. He stopped and smiled at Casper. It was not a warm smile. It looked forced. He waved at Casper to follow him.
Livingston held open his office door. He and Casper shook hands.
“Have a seat,” Livingston said. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, thank you.”
“You’re not much for making appointments,” Livingston said.
Casper shrugged.
“Yeah…I don’t mean to be rude or anything. I just figure that if you’re not here or you’re tied up—then I wasn’t meant to see you that day.”
Casper’s eyes wandered over the contents of the Chief’s desk.
Livingston smirked.
“And that would take the pressure off…temporarily?”
Casper heaved a heavy sigh.
“Yes, sir.”

Livingston closed his eyes and massaged his temples.
“Are you going to drop another bombshell on me?”
“Maybe,” Casper said. “Or maybe I’m losing my mind.”
Livingston frowned.
“Why are you here, Casper?”
“I was part of the security detail for Shane Murphy’s rally,” Casper said. “After it was over, I saw a tall, distinguished-looking gentleman talking with Murphy. A few seconds later I heard that man speak. He had a Russian accent. That triggered a memory—a memory I didn’t even know I had. It was something Sara Lawson said just before she died. She said…’Russian mafia’.”
Chief Livingston leaned forward in his chair. He waited a few moments.
“Okay. What else?”
“That…that’s it,” Casper said.
“That’s what you came here to tell me?” Livingston said.
“Well…yes, sir,” Casper said. “I thought I should—”
“You only remembered this particular fact involving the death of a trained killer on a homicidal killing spree after you heard a man speak in a Russian accent?” Livingston said.
Casper didn’t like the tone of the Chief’s voice.
“Y-yes, sir. I didn’t register what she said. There was so much going on—”
“And what exactly am I supposed to do with this new information?” Livingston said. “How is it going to look if this comes out now? It’s not exactly a secret about your history with Shane Murphy.”
“And it’s no secret how he feels about me,” Casper snapped.
Livingston leaned back and scowled.
“Shane Murphy is going to become the next mayor in a landslide election.”
“Shane Murphy is a crook!” Casper said.
“Where is your proof?” Livingston said. “You ‘suddenly’ remember the words of a dying woman. And you observed Shane Murphy having a conversation with a man with a Russian accent. How long have you lived in New York?”
“My whole life,” Casper said.
“Then you know as well as I do that this city has people from all corners of the globe,” Livingston said. “What you’ve told me means nothing at all. And coming forward with what you’ve told me about Sara Lawson…it just makes you seem less credible. I don’t think that’s what you want.”
“It’s the truth,” Casper said.
“You’re barely out of your rookie year, Casper,” Livingston said. “Do what you want. But I can’t protect you from everything. I will not get involved in any investigation based on what you’ve told me. I definitely can’t protect you from Shane Murphy.”
“I understand,” Casper said.
“Dismissed, Officer Halliday,” Livingston said.

Five

Leo Sanchez tried hard not to smile. He pulled the patrol car to a stop behind the station. Mando Gonzalez glared at Leo from the passenger seat. Casper did the same from the back seat.
“What the hell is so funny?” Mando said.
Leo laughed.
“You guys. That’s what’s funny!”
The three officers had responded to a domestic disturbance call that did not go well. Casper rubbed his neck and rolled his left shoulder.
“Funny? I don’t know what drug cocktail that asshole was on—but I hope it’s a recipe he hasn’t shared with any of his friends.”
“Well,” Leo said. “I’ll tell you one thing. You two make a helluva team when it comes to hand-to-hand combat. Of course, you’ll probably be ready for the rest home by the time you’re thirty-five—”
Another patrol car pulled alongside. The two officers in that car had been called to pick up the man Casper and Mando subdued since there was no room in Leo, Casper, and Mando’s car.
“There are two officers in that car ready for your ‘partnership-evaluation’ to be over with,” Leo said. “They’re tired of having to pick up your garbage.”

The front doors of the second car flew open before the car came to a complete stop. Officers Simpson and Adams bailed out. Adams ran several steps from the passenger side and tore at his uniform shirt. Screaming came from the inside of the car.
“What the hell—?” Leo said. He opened his door.
Mando opened his door. He winced at the pain in his neck and shoulders. Casper waited for someone to let him out of the back seat but that was not a priority at the moment.
“Dammit!” Officer Simpson roared.
“What happened?” Leo said.
“Your asshole puked all over the damn car! That’s what happened!”
Adams threw his soiled shirt to the ground.
“This is the last time, Leo! You’d better cut those two loose in their own car, or call off this damn experiment.”
“Or get yourself a bigger car,” the driver said.
Leo shrugged. He took a step back and wrinkled his nose.
“I could ask, I guess—”
Simpson and Adams looked at each other.
“What are we supposed to do now?” Adams said. “We can’t go inside like this! We smell like freaking death!”

Gagging and lurching sounds came from inside the car.
“Holy shit,” Leo said. “He’s not done.”
“He’s your problem now,” Simpson said. “You better get yourself a haz-mat team.”
Leo looked at Casper and Mando.
“Well, boys?”
Mando looked like he might be sick. He gagged and covered his mouth and nose.
“No way. I can’t…”
“Ha!” Officer Simpson said. “It’s just puke, son. It’s part of the job.”
Mando took out his phone.
“What are you doing?” Casper said.
“Calling the fire department,” Mando said.
“Why?” Leo said.
“They have water and hoses,” Mando said.
“Put the damn phone away,” Adams said. “If you get a pump truck over here every fireman in the city will know it. I am not going to be the butt of their jokes for the rest of my career!”
“Oh, yeah. You’re probably right,” Mando said.
“They have trustees from the jail that’ll take care of the car,” Leo said.
“Well, they ain’t gonna give us a sponge bath,” Adams snapped.
“Maybe if you ask them real nice,” Mando said.
Adams glared and pointed at Mando.
“How about I grab you by the neck and toss you in the back seat? Maybe you want a sponge bath.”
Mando held up his hands.
“I’m sorry. It just slipped out. Sir.”
“Smart-ass kids,” Adams muttered.

A group of five other officers approached. They stopped when the smell hit them. Two of them turned and walked away.
“Sweet Mother of God!” an officer said. “Is that shit radioactive? Do we need to get some rubber suits over here?”
“You’re hilarious, Lewis,” Simpson said.
Officer Lewis pointed with his thumb.
“Go over by the locker room exit and I’ll hose you down good enough to get to the showers. Jesus. He got you guys good.”
“The freaking screen just makes it splatter,” Adams said. “Now I know why the cabs all have plastic shields.”
Lewis bent down and squinted, looking into the car.
“Hey. What about your perp?”
Simpson and Adams laughed and pointed at Casper.
“That’s their problem.”

Six

The movie theater was almost empty. Not only was it a three o’clock matinee, but the movie being shown performed dismally on its opening weekend. Boris Volkov chose it for this reason. He slumped into the theater seat and filled his mouth with hot-buttered popcorn. The screen was filled with trailers of more popular movies. Those movies would likely do better than the film that was about to be shown to an audience of eight people.
The popcorn was good.
It should be, Volkov thought.
It cost more than his ticket had.
Volkov was tired. He closed his eyes until he heard footsteps in the aisle. A man sat next to him.

“It’s a nice afternoon for a movie,” Shane Murphy said.
“It’s a nice afternoon for business,” Volkov said.
“A nice afternoon to meet with friends,” Murphy said. “Are you a friend?”
“A friend to some,” Volkov said. “A nightmare to others.”
“I need both,” Murphy said. “Are we not both friends of Mr. Glass? Or should I use his real name?”
“Mmm,” Volkov grunted. “There is no need to drop names. I know who you are, Mr. Murphy.”
Murphy sighed.
“Not all of us can live in the shadows. There are very few powers without faces.”
“Spoken like a trained politician,” Volkov said with a smirk. “My services do not come cheaply. I doubt seriously we will be doing business, anyway.”
“I am not an idiot, Volkov,” Murphy said. “I didn’t come here for nothing and neither did you. I know you came half-way around the world to do Mr. Glass’s bidding. And he is not the only one you answer to.”
Murphy smiled.
“No one trusts anyone in your country. Everybody is watching everybody else.”
“Are you better off?” Volkov said. “Your people believe whatever they see on the television.”
Volkov chuckled.
“Mr. Glass. He would not be happy to know of this meeting.”
“Yet, you are here,” Murphy said.
“I enjoy the finer things life has to offer,” Volkov said. “Business has been…sporadic.”
“There you go,” Murphy said. “You need money and I need a job done.”
Volkov inhaled sharply. He narrowed his eyes.
“But it is not quite that simple. I cannot chance making our friend angry.”
“Mr. Glass doesn’t need to know,” Murphy said.
“In your opinion,” Volkov said. “Give me the name.”
Murphy did so.

Volkov paused. A long breath passed between his lips.
“No. This is a bad decision. You have not thought this through.”
“I have thought it through for a long time,” Murphy snapped. “It’s as if our fates are intertwined. I wish it was not so. But every time I turn around…he is there. And I will not let the bastard stand in my way. If you will not take care of this, someone else will.”
“And Glazkov will know,” Volkov said. “He will trust you even less—and that is not what you want. Believe me.”
“Will you do the job or not?” Murphy said.
“How much?” Volkov said.
Murphy named a figure.
“You can access that much cash?” Volkov said.
“You are a professional,” Murphy said. “So am I.”
“When?” Volkov said.
“Soon,” Murphy said.
He stood and left the building.

Seven

Casper toweled himself dry and pulled on a robe. He walked out of the bathroom and heard the apartment door open.
“I’m tired,” Casper said. “Please tell me you’re a ‘friendly’.”
“It’s your old man,” Bobby Halliday said. “And Miss McNeil. Are you decent?”
“When’s the last time you remember me running around the house naked?” Casper said.
“It’s been a while,” Bobby said. “You were probably about…four.”
“If I revert to my old habits I’ll let you know,” Casper said. “Hello, Susan.”
“Hi, Casper,” Susan said. “How was your day?”
Casper shook his head.
“You don’t really want to know. Let’s just say, I just took three showers.”
Susan made a face.
“Yeah, I probably don’t want to know more than that.”
Casper stretched his neck.
“Thank God for weekends—even if they don’t fall on the actual weekends.”
“You’re not whining, are you?” Bobby said.
“In front of you?” Casper said. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

They shared a laugh.
“I could use a beer,” Bobby said.
“Me, too,” Susan said.
“I could use one to start with,” Casper said. “On the way to ‘several’.”
Casper’s phone rang. He looked at the display.
“Excuse me,” he said to Bobby and Susan. He walked to the next room.
“Hey, Sean. What’s up?”
“Casper,” Sean Kelly said. “Man, I hate to bother you but I don’t know what else to do.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Casper said. “What’s going on?”
“I go on duty in ten minutes,” Sean said. “And I just got off the phone with Chelsea.”
“Is something wrong?” Casper said.
“No,” Sean said, quickly. “Well, yeah, maybe. Nicky is spending a couple of days with Chelsea at the ranch.”
“You told me,” Casper said.
“Okay,” Sean said. “I had lunch with Jonathan and Rachel. They found a lady they think is perfect for the administrator job.”
“That’s fantastic!” Casper said.
“Well…yeah,” Sean said. “She’s supposed to meet with Chelsea and the Kwans in the morning, but—”
“Dammit, Sean! What’s wrong?”
“Something’s wrong with Nicky,” Sean said. “She can’t stop crying. She told Chelsea she wants to come home—to our house. Chelsea thinks everything that happened is finally hitting home with Nicky. Mona is supposed to work tomorrow afternoon and Cody has school—”
“Look, say no more, Sean,” Casper said. “I’m going on days off. I’ll go and get her. I’ll be on my way in ten minutes.”
“Would you, Casper?” Sean said. “I’ll never forget it.”
“Shut up, Sean,” Casper said. “We’re family.”
“Thank you,” Sean said.
“It may cost you a couple of burgers,” Casper said.
“You got it.”

Casper started his car. He closed his eyes and leaned back in the seat, waiting for the motor to warm up. A long day would be even longer.
Casper’s phone rang.
“Hey, Mando. You’re not asleep yet?”
“I’m wide awake,” Mando Gonzalez said. “You want to grab a beer or something?”
“I would,” Casper said. “But I’m on a mission right now.”
“What mission?”
Casper relayed his conversation with Sean.
“The poor kid,” Mando said. “But, you know, she’s been through a lot of shit. It’s a miracle she’s held it together this long.”
“That’s the same thing I’ve been thinking,” Casper said. “Well, I better let you go. I need to get moving.”
“Hey…uh…do you mind if I drive up and meet you there?” Mando said. “Three of Layla’s sorority sisters are staying here for a few days. The laughing and giggling are driving me crazy.”
“And I’m sure they’re all butt-ugly,” Casper said.
“Not even,” Mando said. “I just walked by Layla’s room. She didn’t bother to close the door. It looked like they were getting ready for a Victoria’s Secret photo shoot.”
“And you want to leave?” Casper said. “What’s wrong with you?”
“It’s not like they’re going to invite me to play Spin the Bottle, Bro,” Mando said. “I swear they must derive great pleasure making me feel uncomfortable.”
“It works, huh?” Casper said.
“Hell, yes, it works,” Mando said. “I feel like a dirty old man in my own house.”
“Especially after today,” Casper said.
“God, yes,” Mando said. “I took a shower, dried off, and got right back in the shower.”
“Ha!” Casper said. “I took three.”
“Anyway,” Mando said. “I want to see my puppy. I told you I’m bringing home one of the beagle puppies didn’t I?”
“About ten times,” Casper said. “Oh…”

Casper had a thought. A smile spread across his lips.
“I’m sure Chelsea will be glad to see you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Mando said.
“It means Chelsea will be glad to see you,” Casper said. “That’s all.”
“I killed her husband, for God’s sake,” Mando said.
“Samuel Gray was going to spend the rest of his life behind bars if he had lived,” Casper said. “We don’t need to go through this anymore. I’ll see you at the ranch, bro.”
“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Mando said.
“That’s what Samuel called it,” Casper said. “It doesn’t feel right to call it ‘The Home’, or ‘The Orphanage’.”
“That’s a good idea,” Mando said. “I’ll probably be about thirty minutes behind you. Give me a call when it’s cool for me to come in. I don’t want to get in the way with Nicky having a hard time.”
“I’ll do it,” Casper said. “Have I ever told you you’re a good dude?”
“Yeah, you have,” Mando said. “You should probably do it more often, but…”
Casper laughed.
“I’ll see you in a little while—my good dude friend.”

Eight

Casper made the last curve toward the front of the ranch. Chelsea stood just inside the gate; her arms wrapped around herself, shivering in the cold. The headlights illuminated the forced smile on her face. Casper waved.
This ain’t good.
Chelsea opened the gate and hugged Casper.
“Why are you out here in the cold?” Casper said.
Chelsea put a finger to her lips.
“Nicky is sitting on the park bench around the corner. I can’t get her to come inside. I told her you were coming.”
Casper looked in that direction and sighed.
“Is there anything else I need to know?”
Chelsea bit her lip and shook her head.
“Wait,” she said. “I want you to know that she’s not feeling sorry for herself. She doesn’t want the other kids to be sad. She still feels responsible for them.”
Chelsea choked back a sob.
“That’s the way she is, Casper. She always has been. Nicky helped me with other kids from the first day we found her. She thinks she’s supposed to be an adult. Hell, she’s more of an adult than most people. She told me she wants to work here when she gets out of school.”

Casper stopped when he saw Nicky. She sat on the bench with her arms wrapped around her. She rocked back and forth beneath the warm glow of a garden lamp.
“Hello?” Casper said.
Nicky turned her head.
“Casper?”
“Can I…sit with you?” Casper said.
“Of course,” Nicky said.
Casper sat on one end of the bench. He reached out and patted Nicky’s hand.
“You knew I was coming, right?” Casper said.
Nicky sniffed and rubbed her nose.
“Yeah. I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to feel sorry about,” Casper said. “No one expects you to be a superhero. You’ve been through a lot, honey. It’s perfectly natural for it to bother you.”
Nicky blinked rapidly and smiled.
“You’ve never called me ‘honey’ before.”
Casper smiled.
“Are you sure? I think I have.”
“No,” Nicky said. “I would have remembered.”
“Do you mind?” Casper said.
“No,” Nicky said. “I think it sounds…nice.”
“That settles it, then,” Casper said. “Honey-honey-honey.”
Nicky turned to face straight ahead. After a few moments, she began to rock back and forth again. She squeezed her eyes shut but tears escaped anyway. Casper stood and took off his jacket. He put it around Nicky’s shoulders.
“Is there anything you want to talk about?”
Nicky gripped the collar of Casper’s jacket. She rocked some more.
“I don’t know.”

Casper sat.
“Okay. We can go whenever you’re ready. I’m not rushing you. I have nowhere else to be. Mando is coming up to visit his puppy and say hi to Chelsea. He’ll be here in a little while. We don’t have to wait for him. It’s all up to you. Honey.”
Nicky tried to smile, but her lips quivered. She stared ahead and spoke.
“I don’t remember where we were. They never wanted us to ask a lot of questions.”
“I don’t understand,” Casper said.
“It was a long time ago,” Nicky said. “More than a year, I think.”
“Is it something you want to talk about?’ Casper said.
Nicky nodded.
“Samuel and Chelsea. They weren’t mean about it. They just said it was for the best.”
“Okay,” Casper said.
“One day,” Nicky said. “It wasn’t quite dark yet—these two boys started following me around on their bicycles. They were big. Probably about sixteen or seventeen. I told them to go away and leave me alone but they just laughed. I tried to run but they kept following me. I saw this alley I had been through before. It was full of big trash cans and more garbage than the cans could hold. It smelled terrible. I hoped those boys wouldn’t go in there. But they did. They dropped their bikes and chased me. They shoved me against the wall. I bumped my head really hard. One of them held my arms and the other one was trying to take off my shirt. I pulled one hand loose and hit that boy in the head. He swore a bunch and then punched me in the face. I couldn’t see very good anymore.
“The other boy started trying to unbutton my pants. And then I remembered…”
“You remembered what?” Casper said.
“My knife,” Nicky whispered. “They gave us all a knife but said they were only for a ‘mergencies. It was the kind where you push a button and it opens. I thought when the boys found it they would use it on me. I got it out of my pocket. I pushed the button and stabbed that one boy. In the stomach.”

Nicky stopped talking. Casper could see her rapid breaths in the cool night air.
“The boy started crying. The other boy screamed at me—calling me horrible names. And then he started crying, too. I walked away from him. I told him if he followed me I would cut off his head.”
“What happened after that, Nicky?” Casper said.
Nicky wiped her eyes.
“I ran home. I found Chelsea. I didn’t want anyone else to see me. I was all…all bloody. And I couldn’t stop crying.”
Casper blew out a breath.
“Did you talk to the police?”
Nicky shook her head.
“Who knows about this?” Casper said.
“Chelsea. And Samuel. Later, I took a shower and packed my things. Chelsea and I got in a van and drove away. I don’t know where we went. It was pretty far. We slept in the van for a few days. And then everyone else came.”
“So, Samuel and Chelsea did nothing about it?” Casper said.
Nicky sniffed. She nodded. She looked at Casper.
“They held me.”

Casper put his arm around her. Nicky grabbed Casper’s sleeves and fell against his chest, sobbing. They stayed like that for several minutes.
Casper heard the squeak of the back door screen. Chelsea crossed the dark distance. She stopped halfway to the park bench, rubbing her bare arms.
“Is everything okay out here?”
“We’re good, Chelsea,” Casper said. “I think we’re going to be—”

Casper saw the red laser dot move from his shoulder to his chest—the same arm that was wrapped around Nicky.
Casper jumped to his feet.
“Run! Get into the house!”
Nicky tripped. She fell to the ground at Chelsea’s feet.
“Go!” Casper screamed. He moved in a crouch toward the back door. The crack! of a rifle sounded in the distance. The impact on Casper’s left side spun him around. He heard Chelsea and Nicky scream.
“Get inside, dammit!”
The rifle sounded again.
Casper fell—and did not move.