Eraser—Book 5 in the Casper Halliday NYPD Series is available now!

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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.

The Academy—a FREE and exclusive novelette in the Casper Halliday NYPD Series is available now to newsletter subscribers. This book takes places after the events of Both Sides of the Law, when Casper enters the NYPD police academy. The book features characters who play prominent roles in the upcoming Book 4 in the Series.

Now included in the back of the ebook version of “Ghost Man”

A Sneak Peek of
Have You Been Injured?
Coming Summer 2019!

One

The timing was terrible.
Matthew Talbot’s funeral was held less than twenty-four hours after Kathy Halliday’s memorial service. The funeral was scheduled by Talbot’s father.
Bobby Halliday’s parents had been divorced for sixteen years—when Casper Halliday was five years old. Bobby’s father moved to Florida. His mother moved to Phoenix. Casper had only seen them a few times since they moved. They sent gifts at Christmas. His grandfather sent cash—usually a twenty-dollar bill. His grandmother sent gift cards for video games that Casper had never used.
Bobby’s mother and father each had reasons they could not make it to New York for Kathy’s memorial. Bobby was not surprised.

Kathy’s parents, Amy and Kevin Belmont, moved to Paris, France when Casper was eight. Casper did not see them often when they still lived in Vermont. Kathy’s older brother was in the Air Force and stationed in Germany. The Belmonts went to visit him and took the opportunity to visit other popular tourist destinations as well. They fell in love with Paris and moved there four months later. The Belmonts visited the Halliday family only twice after that, for three days each time. Bobby and his family could not afford to make a trip across the ocean. This was one reason why Kathy’s parents never cared for Bobby.
They showed little attention or affection toward their grandson.
Their attitudes had not changed after Kathy’s death.

Amy Belmont was scowling when Bobby opened the door.
“Please come in,” Bobby said.
Casper stood behind Bobby.
“Hello,” Casper said.
Amy made a curt nod and stepped inside the apartment. Kevin trudged behind her. His sour expression backed up the venomous look on Amy’s face. Amy walked through four rooms; surveying them like she was performing an inspection.
Casper and Bobby shared a look. Casper lifted his right hand and rubbed the back of his neck. Bobby passed by closely and whispered.
“Yeah. This is going to be trouble.”
Casper did not expect affection from his grandparents. They were little more than strangers from long ago. But he was not prepared for the venomous atmosphere that confronted him.

No, Grandma. There are no crushed beer cans in the floor. No overflowing ashtrays. No pool table in the living room and no nude posters on the walls. We haven’t turned the apartment into a bachelor pad. Sorry to disappoint you.

Amy spun around on her heels.
“You had my daughter cremated?”
Kevin shook his head and spoke in little more than a whisper.
“Unbelievable.”
“It’s what she wanted,” Bobby said. “We made the same decision together. We talked about it more than once.”
“Did she write it down?” Amy sneered. “Did you?”
“No,” Bobby said.
“Hmmph,” Amy said. “And you never thought to discuss this with me.”
“Or me,” Kevin said.
“Or Kevin,” Amy said.
“We didn’t have days or weeks to have a debate,” Bobby said.
Casper could see the tension on his father’s face.
“There should not have been a debate!” Amy said.
“Cremation is barbaric,” Kevin said.
Amy threw up her hands.
“Exactly! Why not just strap her to a raft, light it on fire, and shove her out into the Atlantic! Like goddamn Vikings!”

Bobby took a deep breath.
“Mrs. Belmont. You lost your daughter. I lost my wife. Casper lost his mother. Is this really what you want us to do right now?”
Amy shook her finger at Bobby.
“Don’t you talk down to me like I’m a child! You were never—!”
Bobby cut her off.
“I was never good enough for your daughter. How many times do you think I told her that?”
“I don’t care—”
“I did what Kathy wanted,” Bobby said.
“Without one thought for my feelings!” Amy said.
“Kathy is dead,” Bobby said. “Fighting will not change that.”
“I told you not to speak down to me—”
“You’ve been back to the states twice in fourteen years,” Bobby said. “Why should I think you care?”
Amy stepped forward. Kevin grabbed her arm.
“You smart-ass son-of-a-bitch!” Amy hissed. “The goddamn planes cross the ocean in both directions!”
“Not on a cop’s salary,” Kevin said.
“No,” Amy said. “No. Not once.”
“Let’s go,” Kevin said. He pulled Amy toward the door. She resisted. She glanced at Casper and looked back at Bobby.
“Don’t think I don’t know what happened. I can read. That horrible monster chose my baby out of ten million people because of a stupid name.”
She jabbed a shaking finger at Casper without taking her eyes off of Bobby.
“The name you insisted on giving him.”
Amy made a sarcastic face.
“Ghost Man. And by the time I can get here, you’ve left me nothing but a pile of ashes…”
Kevin opened the door and pulled on Amy’s arm. She stumbled and almost fell. She glared up at Casper.
“Casper. Stupid fucking name. And another cop. Isn’t that just wonderful.”

No one had prepared for the turnout for Kathy Halliday’s memorial service. The rented Community Hall was designed to accommodate three hundred people. Seats filled quickly and people kept coming. Over a hundred members of the NYPD attended along with many of their spouses. Chief of Detectives Livingston and his wife were there. Casper kept looking at the door to see if Blair Hampton might come. He never saw her.
Casper’s spirits rose when he spotted Mando Gonzalez, Sean Kelly, and Mona Casey walk through the doors. They shared hugs. Mona hugged Bobby after Casper introduced them. Two of Bobby’s friends took him aside.
Mando motioned to his right.
“That lady looks like your mom. Are those your grandparents?”
“Yeah,” Casper said. “They live in France.”
“I know,” Mando said. “They…don’t look sad. They look pissed.”
“Oh, yeah,” Casper said. “They’re pissed, all right. I guess they’re old school or religious or something. They’re pissed about the cremation. They wanted a casket and a church and a parade of cars to the cemetery.”
“Oh,” Mando said. “Yeah, my family is like that. I hate those things. I don’t want to go out like that.”
“I don’t either,” Casper said. “Dad did what Mom wanted, and it pissed them off that he didn’t consult them. My grandmother especially. She said some awful shit to my dad.”
“That’s too bad,” Mando said. “I’m sorry, man.”
Mando looked around the room.
“This place is almost full.”
Uniformed police officers lined the walls.
“Are they going to close the doors?” Casper asked. “We’re going to be violating the fire ordinance.”
“With all these cops here?” Mando said. “I doubt it.”
Casper looked at the riser at the front of the room. A podium stood in the middle. To the right stood a large spray of flowers and an enlarged photo of a smiling Kathy Halliday. To the left were more flowers, and an enlarged photo of Kathy, Bobby, and little Casper.
“Do you hear that, Mom? Standing room only.”
“She deserves it,” Mando said.
“Thanks, Mando,” Casper said.
“There are a lot of warm bodies in here,” Mando said. He tugged at his pants leg.
“It’s getting a little humid down south.”
Casper covered his mouth to hide his smile.
“You should not be allowed to attend sad events.”
“Hey, man,” Mando said. “I’ll go for that.”
“Not too fast, though,” Casper said. “We still have tomorrow.”
Mando sighed.
“Yeah.”

A pianist played two of Kathy’s favorite songs as the last seats were taken. Dozens remained standing. No one made a move to close the doors. People continued to enter. A lady added her excellent voice to the piano for a beautiful uplifting song. When the last note faded, a procession of five people took the podium to speak about the life of Kathy Halliday. Many in the crowd sobbed quietly. A few, not so quietly.
Bobby had asked Casper if he wanted to speak. Casper declined. Being in the spotlight had not been kind to him.
“I’m sure whatever you have to say will take care of both of us, Dad.”
Casper also did not want to have to see his grandparents glare at him anymore.
The crowd hushed when Bobby walked to the podium. Casper thought his father spoke well and said all the right things. He only got choked up twice and had to pause.

Casper could not help but watch Amy Belmont during his father’s speech. She did not look at Bobby. Amy occasionally put a tissue to her eye but Casper saw no show of emotion other than anger.
Oh, it would be so nice to tell her exactly what happened. To tell her how he had made sure that his mother’s murderer would never see the sun again—would never stand to make a plea in a courtroom. Would never have a psychiatric evaluation to see if he was “responsible for his actions”.
Wouldn’t that be a nice story, Grandma? Would you have the stomach for that story, Grandma? Huh? Would you even hear it—or are you too busy blaming and hating my dad and me?
The tickle at the back of his neck made Casper jump. Mando glanced at him and then returned his gaze to Bobby.
Casper turned and looked out of the corner of his eye. She stood in the doorway, alone. She made a tiny wave.
Charlie Talbot.

Two

Sean Kelly, Mando, and Casper stared through the windows of Sean’s car.
“Jesus,” Sean said. “I’ve driven by this church a thousand times but I’ve never been inside. That thing is huge.”
“Check this out,” Casper said.
Dozens of security personnel and off-duty police diverted traffic away from the area. They made way for those attending Matthew Talbot’s first funeral service. Another funeral service and the actual burial would take place in Los Angeles, California. That was where Matthew Talbot was born and raised.
Matthew’s father, Eric “Tank” Talbot was footing the bills. The senior Mr. Talbot earned millions over a seven-year professional football career. Now, he expanded his fortune with car dealerships. While there would be no actual burial in New York, there would still be a service at a Manhattan cemetery. The ceremony would reveal a bronze bust honoring Matthew Talbot. Matthew’s father paid a small fortune to have the bust created in a matter of days.

Celeste (Charlie) Talbot was not involved in any of the arrangements, nor did she want to be. Casper spotted Charlie a few minutes after they entered the enormous sanctuary. She was at the front of the church, where a line of people passed by her offering condolences. Casper, Mando, and Sean walked to the end of the line. Casper lagged behind to be the last of the three.
Fifteen minutes later, Charlie spotted Casper. There was no smile on her lips, but Casper saw one in her eyes. He also saw her tiny wink.
Casper took Charlie’s hand in both of his. He wanted to throw his arms around her but that was impossible.
“How long have you been back?” he whispered.
“Two days,” Charlie said. She glanced toward the Talbots. “I didn’t want to talk to them. I don’t know how much Matt told them—if anything. I’m damn sure not going to ask. Thank you for being here.”
“Thank you for coming yesterday.”
Charlie inhaled and held her breath for a moment.
“Are you all right?” Casper said.
“I can’t believe what you did to that…that monster.”
“We can’t talk about that now,” Casper said.
Charlie’s eyes moved toward where Mando and Sean waited.
“Your friend—the one with the bat that saved our asses—does he know…everything?”
“No,” Casper said. “Not everything. I have to go.”
Charlie nodded. She joined her other hand to Casper’s. Casper felt Charlie press something against his palm. He was sure it was a note. Casper joined Sean and Mando who looked confused. They took seats well back in the congregation. Casper excused himself and went to the rest room. He locked himself inside a stall and unfolded the note.

We have to talk. Your apartment tonight at eleven. Try to be on time.

There was no formal procession to the cemetery. Casper, Mando, and Sean met with other officers from their precinct.
Casper watched other little cliques of people forming. One group of about twenty-five men was definitely not in a deep state of mourning. They wore expensive suits, shoes, and haircuts. Casper heard the occasional laugh or two—followed by shushing sounds from the others. Casper glared at them.
Wall Street types. Matt Talbot’s work buddies—I’d bet money on it.
Casper spotted Eric Talbot. The man was hard to miss. He was a huge man who had slimmed down after his retirement from pro football. Casper guessed his weight at three hundred pounds. It was still twenty minutes before the ceremony began.
Another couple joined Eric and his wife. This couple was a little older, in their early sixties. Casper looked at the woman, who was beautiful for any age.
Sabrina LeClair. Charlie’s mother. Without a doubt.
Mrs. Talbot and Mrs. LeClair exchanged an uncomfortable hug. Mrs. Talbot said something to Sabrina. Sabrina turned and motioned to her right.
Charlie was alone, leaning against a table beneath the roof of a small gazebo. She lit a cigarette.
Casper saw Sabrina roll her eyes. Mrs. Talbot shook her head.

Casper heard raised voices from the Wall Street bunch. A few of the men spoke while they looked in Charlie’s direction.
A man raised his hand, sprayed something into his wide-open mouth, and strutted toward the gazebo.
Casper’s jaw dropped.
Breath spray? In a cemetery? Are you freaking kidding me?

The man got Charlie’s attention. Charlie switched her cigarette from her right hand to her left. She held out her right hand. The man ignored her hand and wrapped his arms around her. Charlie was obviously unprepared for that. She held her arms out to her sides, concerned only with not setting the man on fire.
The man stepped back. He pulled on his tie and straightened his jacket. The man spoke nonstop. Casper couldn’t understand a word, but he knew Charlie wanted the man to go away. The man’s body language was not one of mourning or support. He looked like a man trying to pick up a woman at a bar.
“Piece of shit,” Casper said under his breath.
“What?” Mando said.
“Nothing.”

The crowd assembled for the ceremony. There were seats beneath a portable canopy for the elderly, the disabled, or those with small children. Everyone else stood. Two minutes before the ceremony began, Charlie stepped next to her parents.
Sabrina leaned toward Charlie and whispered.
“You smell like a goddamn ashtray.”
Charlie turned to leave. Her mother grabbed her arm.
“Celeste…” Sabrina hissed through gritted teeth.
Charlie paid her no attention. She stepped outside the perimeter of people with her arms folded across her chest.
Mando whispered to Casper.
“What the hell?”
“I don’t know,” Casper said. “Charlie’s mom is probably a Nicotine-Nazi.”
“Jesus,” Mando said. “Her husband was murdered. Cut her some slack, man.”
“Exactly,” Casper said. He looked over at Charlie.
Shit.
Mr. Wall Street stood at Charlie’s side. He put his arm around her shoulder.
Casper scratched a tickle at the back of his neck. He could tell Charlie had no idea what to do. The man leaned in and spoke into Charlie’s ear. The ceremony began and everyone looked toward the front.
Over the next twenty seconds the man’s hand moved from Charlie’s shoulder, to the back of her arm, to her elbow
And to her waist.
Casper turned and whispered to the police officer standing to his left.
“Excuse me.”
“Where are you going?” Mando whispered.

Casper crept up behind the man. The man jumped when he felt someone’s breath in his ear.
“If you ever want to use that hand again, you better move it. Now.”
The man lowered his arm and took one step back. As he turned, he looked at Casper’s face. Casper saw recognition in the man’s eyes.
Why not? I’ve been on television a few times.
The man straightened his tie again and walked across the grounds. Casper heard the chirp of a car alarm.

A plain, ordinary black sedan sat along the curb. The man behind the wheel looked through the lens of a video camera.
“What is this?” Bradley Butler whispered to himself.
A man in an expensive suit comforted the grieving widow—although it looked more like he was trying to seduce her.
Our boy Casper Halliday sure doesn’t like it. I wonder what he said to the guy.
Butler followed the man with his camera. The man paused before getting in his car. He threw two middle-finger salutes in Casper Halliday’s direction. He climbed in his car and screeched the tires as he left. Butler lowered the camera.
Wow. What an unusual funeral. Murphy will get a kick out of this.

Four

Sara Lawson swore when the phone rang. She jabbed at the stop button on the treadmill as she looked at the electronic baby monitor. It took Sara three attempts to strike the button because the treadmill was set to its highest speed. The second ring of the phone woke twenty-one-day old Andrew Lawson.
“Shit!”
“Mom?”
Four-year-old Rebecca Lawson stood in the doorway rubbing her eyes.
“I know honey,” Sara said. “Andy is awake.”
Sara snatched up the phone.
Two rings. Two naps and one workout—over.
“Hello?”
Sara propped the phone against her shoulder as she picked up the baby.
“Yeah, it’s me, Sara,” Carter Lawson said. “I have to work late.”
“No, no, no,” Sara said. “Don’t do this to me, Carter. The f—did you forget about gymnastics?”
Rebecca went from sleepy to wide awake in a split second. She threw her hands in the air.
“Gymnastics! Yay! Where’s Daddy?”
“Did you hear that, Carter?” Sara said.
“I’m sorry,” Carter said. “They just dropped this on us a couple of hours ago. Our biggest client is acquiring a new company. It’s top-secret and won’t be announced until Monday. They want a brand new ad campaign ready to go by sunrise on Tuesday.”
“And I guess you’re the only one that can pull that off,” Sara said.
“I’m on the team—”
“And the team can only work their magic after five o’clock,” Sara snapped.
“This is my job, Sara,” Carter said. “It doesn’t always fit in a neat little box. You’re on maternity leave. I’m not.”
Sara’s nostrils flared. She knew there was logic in what Carter said. But that didn’t mean she had to like it. It was true—she was on paid maternity leave from her job where she did data entry for a huge international brokerage firm. Her pay was reduced—but it did allow her to stay home with her toddler and her infant son.

Sara pushed the key to put the phone on “speaker”. She put the phone on the changing table.
“I was on the treadmill, Carter. I haven’t had a shower—”
“Are we on speaker?” Carter said.
“Yes, God—yes, we’re on speaker. I’m changing a diaper and I only have two hands.”
Rebecca danced across the floor, chanting.
“Gymnastics! Gymnastics! Gymnastics!”
“Rebecca. Please!”
“I’m sorry,” Carter said.
“You’re sorry,” Sara said. “I can’t take a shower now. I’ll be lucky if I get to change clothes.”
“No one will care,” Carter said.
“I care!” Sara said.
“I have to go,” Carter said.
“So do I,” Sara said. She ended the call. She picked up Andy and put him to her shoulder. He stopped crying. Sara blew a wisp of hair out of her face.
“I got Andy’s bottle, Mommy.”
Rebecca held up the bottle of formula she took from the refrigerator. She looked up at Sara with her big, soulful eyes. Sara smiled.
“Oh, thank you, baby.”
“Am I a good helper?” Rebecca asked.
“You’re the best helper in the world, honey,” Sara said. “I need to warm this up just a little.”
“Where’s Daddy?”
“He has to work late,” Sara said.
Rebecca’s lip trembled.
“Can we still go to gymnastics?”
“Of course we can,” Sara said. “Daddy will come with us next time.”
Sara heated the bottle and fed Andy while she walked into the bathroom. She studied her reflection in the mirror.
Oh, well. I’ve looked worse. I shouldn’t have been so shitty to Carter. It’s not his fault.
Have I really gotten this soft in just five years?

Sara Everly enlisted in the army fresh out of high school. She was the best female athlete in her school, by far. She played volleyball, softball, and she was on the track and field team. She had a few athletic scholarship offers, but none that really interested her. And Sara was tired of sitting through long hours of classes.
Sara wanted to see the world. She also loved pushing her limits—mentally and physically. She was stationed at Fort Benning, Georgia, where she was quickly recognized as the most gifted and talented woman on base.
After six years of training, Sara intensified her physical training on her own. She said nothing to anyone, but she was considering the Army Ranger program. Very few women had made it through the program. The Ranger program chewed up and spit out a lot of men as well.
One morning, Sara pushed herself through a tactical training course. Heavy rains fell overnight. Sara planted her foot on the edge of a cliff. The earth gave way. Sara fell over twenty feet—breaking her right leg in three places.
So much for the Ranger program.
Sara’s leg was in a cast for six months. Her mood grew dark. Being immobile threatened to drive her crazy.

One Saturday night, a group of Sara’s friends from her unit insisted that she go out with them. Sara protested, as she always did. She was embarrassed by the cast and the crutches. Her cast was almost completely covered with ink. Her friends and unit members were determined to support Sara’s recovery with their signatures and words of encouragement.
This particular night, her friends would not take “no” for an answer. Sara finally relented.
She took a long time to get ready. Bathing was difficult. Sara had not left the base in weeks, and had worn nothing but sweat pants and shorts. She shaved her one good leg—an exhausting job with the heavy cast fighting her every move.
Sara cut the leg off of a pair of blue jeans and then discovered she could not put them on by herself. She enlisted the aid of a friend. Both women were breathing hard by the time Sara fastened the button.
“I’m getting fat,” Sara said.
“Bullshit,” her friend said. “You’re still a beast.”
“Thanks,” Sara said. “I guess.”

They shoved two tables together and helped Sara to a pair of chairs—one to sit on and one to rest her leg. Another of Sara’s friends joined them later, accompanied by his visiting brother. The brother was Carter Lawson. Sara and Carter hit it off immediately. They talked so much that Sara suggested Carter sit beside her. He didn’t hesitate. Carter was in graduate school at Boston University majoring in advertising.
“Your cast is impressive,” Carter said. “There’s not one square inch of free space.”
“There’s room on the back side,” Sara said. She giggled. “In the area where people get a little…nervous. Do you want to sign it?”
Carter laughed and beat on his chest like Tarzan.
“I’m not scared. I’ll sign it when it’s time to go.”
“I can stand,” Sara said. “It’s no big deal.”
She pushed against the table and stood.
“Damn,” Carter said. “You’re strong.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Sara said.
Carter shook his head.
“No, I don’t think I’ve ever said that to a girl.”
Carter stopped a waitress and borrowed a pen. He lowered himself to a knee.
“Wow. I feel like I’ve gotten to first base already.”
“You’re not back there to stare, mister,” Sara said. “Get to writing.”

Carter laughed again.
“Yes, Ma’am.” He wrote several words. “There.”
Sara twisted around but she couldn’t see what Carter had written.
“What did you write?”
“Your phone number,” Carter said.
Sara laughed.
“You don’t know my phone number, silly.”
“I know,” Carter said. “And that’s a shame.”
Sara held out her hand.
“Give me the pen.” She wrote her number on a napkin.
“Are you going to use it?” Sara asked.
“The question is,” Carter said. “Will I wear it out?”

The first thing Sara did when she got home was to look in a mirror to see what Carter wrote on her cast. She aimed her phone at the mirror and took a picture.
To the cutest girl in the club.
I like you a lot.
Carter
Carter visited frequently and proposed to Sara seven months later. Carter secured a position with a New York advertising agency before he graduated. Sara had never given a thought to leaving the army, but now she was torn. She couldn’t imagine never seeing Carter again.
When she got pregnant despite her birth control pills, she believed it was the intervention of fate.

Five

Todd Miller was more excited than he had been in a long time. After an ugly breakup with his girlfriend of three years, he had an actual date after over eight months. There had been two one-night stands after hooking-up at a bar. Neither girl wanted to go out with him again. Todd withdrew from the singles scene until he met Jane—at the supermarket, of all places. She had an infectious smile and a great sense of humor—not to mention a killer body. Todd believed there was real chemistry between them.
Todd’s work day drew to a close. He only had a few more deliveries to make. The truck was not built for speed, and Todd had far less patience than usual. He swore under his breath at the vehicle he jokingly referred to as “the giant toaster on wheels”. The toes of his shoes danced between the gas pedal and the brake pedal as he worked his way through the crowded streets.
Todd smacked the steering wheel and swore out loud. He’d lost concentration and missed his turn. His mistake would cost him several extra minutes.
“Come on, come on, come on!” he spoke aloud to the drivers in front of him. He wanted to make it through that green light before it changed.
But he didn’t. One car went through the intersection when the light changed to yellow. Then another. And another. A bus sat still at the intersection to Todd’s right. The light turned red. Todd slammed the accelerator to the floor.
He didn’t see the little car zip into the intersection from behind the bus until it was too late.
Sara Lawson didn’t see the truck at all.

Six

Leo Sanchez and Mando Gonzalez had known each other for years. Not only did they work out of the same precinct, they lived in the same neighborhood. Leo knew Mando’s parents and remembered Mando from when he was a rambunctious toddler.
They got into the car and Leo drove them straight to a coffee shop.
“Break time already?” Mando said. “I think I’m gonna like this job.”
“I’m going to tell you what’s going on,” Leo said. “And I want to look you in the eyes when I do.”
The early break lost its charm.
“First,” Leo said. “I don’t know where the order for this ‘experiment’ came from. I have a hunch, but it’s none of my damn business. We don’t have a history of placing rookies together as partners. I don’t make any partner decisions—I just make reports and recommendations. I want you to know that my reports will be one-hundred-percent honest. I call them like I see them and I don’t pull any punches. Lives are on the line, and Sergeant Kavanaugh trusts me to tell him the truth. Are you with me so far?”
Casper and Mando nodded.
“This partner thing,” Mando continued. “It could happen or not happen—or it could be temporary. I don’t think I have to tell you how unusual it is to even consider pairing up rookies.”
Leo stared at Casper.
“I’m not really supposed to tell you this, but I think you should hear it. You’ve suffered a terrible loss—a loss that will be with you for the rest of your life. My heart burns for you, Caz. Maybe it’s good that you’re back to work. Or maybe…it’s too soon. Who knows? I sure as hell don’t. But it doesn’t seem right to put you out on the streets with a stranger right now.”
Leo looked at Mando.
“This means extra pressure for you. Are you okay with that?”
“Yes, sir,” Mando said. “Casper and I have wanted to be partners since the academy.”
“Yeah,” Leo said. ”Okay. I doubt if you ever discussed these circumstances.”
“Damn the circumstances,” Mando said. “We’re in for hell or high water.”
“You’re in for worse than that,” Leo said.
“You only live once,” Mando said.
Leo narrowed his eyes.
“Don’t make me watch you die, son.”

They answered one call when a fender-bender turned into a fist fight. The threat of arrest made for cooler heads. Leo sent the men on their way with a stern warning.
Casper answered a radio call from a pub where a drunk man was becoming belligerent and possibly violent. The man was too inebriated to either fear or respect the police. Casper and Mando wrestled the man to the floor. Leo cuffed him. Leo called another squad car to haul the man to jail.
“Good job,” Leo said when they were back in the car. “Have you two been in fights together before?”
“We’ve had to make a few tackles,” Mando said.

Traffic was heavy as the six o’clock hour approached. Leo inched the car forward in line. The light turned red, and they stopped again. There were eight cars ahead of them at the intersection. Two minutes later, the light changed to green.
The noise was sickening.
The sound of metal destroying metal and shattering glass seemed to go on forever. The horrible noise reverberated off the surfaces of high-rise buildings. Leo had just started inching the car forward when he slammed on the brakes.
“Jesus!”
Casper threw his door open and leapt into the street.
“Casper!” Mando cried. “Open my door!”
Casper pulled open the back door and sprinted toward the intersection.
“Police!” he shouted. “Police! Stay in your vehicles!”
The domino effect claimed thirteen vehicles in the crash but it was evident which vehicles suffered the worst. The front half of the delivery truck was obliterated. The driver had been ejected through the windshield and lay twisted and broken in the street. Sirens sounded almost at once; their distance and direction impossible to determine.
What remained of a small white sedan rested against the curb. The back half of the car had taken the brunt of the impact. The back half of the car was crushed and distorted. Casper saw someone hunched over in the driver’s seat. He ran and looked through the broken window.
The woman slumped against the seat belt. Multiple air bags had deployed. The woman bled where her sunglasses had cut her face. Her head moved slightly. She moaned.
“Muh…”
“Don’t move, Ma’am. It’s going to be okay,” Casper said. “Paramedics will be here any second.”

Mando approached from the other side of the car. He ordered people on the sidewalk to stay away. He slid to a stop and looked through the twisted opening where the rear window used to be.
“Oh, Sweet Mother of Jesus…”
Mando turned away, bent over, and threw up.
The woman in the driver’s seat raised her head and cried out.
“Please, try not to move, Ma’am,” Casper said.
“My…babies!”
Casper looked over the roof of the car. Mando stared back at him. Any hope Casper had was lost when he saw the pain and horror on Mando’s face. Mando shook his head as tears streamed down his cheeks.
The crowd continued to swell. Mando wiped his eyes and unbuttoned his holster. He raised his gun in the air.
“Stay back! If you’re not a doctor, a nurse, or a paramedic keep the fuck back!”
Leo ran toward the car. Mando stepped in his way.
“No, Leo,” Mando said. “You don’t want to see this.”
“What do we got?” Leo asked.
“A little kid,” Mando said. “And a…a b-baby.”
“Sweet Mother of Mercy…” Leo said. He crossed himself.

Police, fire department, tow-trucks, and paramedics arrived. A dozen professionals worked to free Sara Lawson from the car. When they moved her onto a gurney Sara arched her back and loosed a blood-curdling scream.
Casper, Leo, and Mando watched as they loaded Sara Lawson into an ambulance. As the doors closed, she screamed again.
“Where are my babies?”

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Both Sides of the Law

He shared his father’s dream of becoming a detective.
A prison sentence was not part of the plan.

Casper Halliday’s dream began to unravel two months before his sixteenth birthday. His father, Bobby, resigned from the NYPD after fifteen years without an explanation. Casper’s parents fought. Sirens closed in on their home from every direction. The sound that had always been a source of comfort now brought only humiliation. Bobby Halliday moved out.

Casper’s dream dissolved into a daily fight for survival. All he wanted now was to finish high school so he could ease his mother’s burden.
On his seventeenth birthday, in the throes of depression, Casper made a bad decision. That decision brought him face-to-face with one of the most dangerous men in the city.

In Casper’s world, there is laughter and there are tears.
There is light and there is bitter darkness.
There are improbable friends and unspeakable enemies.

The Casper Halliday NYPD Series launches with the most unlikely of beginnings.

Read Both Sides of the Law today!

The e-book edition includes a sneak peek of Ghost Man, Book 2 in the series.
Ghost Man—Book Two in the Casper Halliday NYPD Series
Coming in late 2018!

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Both Sides of the Law

Death of a King, the fourth and final book in the I, Dragon Series, is available now at Amazon.

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