Friday, February 10, 2017

Sneak peek: The Orphan Man. (First draft material)

Prologue. New York City, NY. 1957

“Stop fucking running, or I’ll just shoot your dumb ass!” Det. Abel Kincaid shouted as he chased the fleeing perp. He had been after this kid for over a month, and he wasn’t letting him get away, even if he had to chase this little punk all night. “Damn, he’s a fast little shit, and where is Tommy,” he thought.
The perp was a teen that had committed multiple armed robberies and home invasions over the last couple of months. Abel still didn’t have a name on the kid, but figured he would get it when he caught the little son of a bitch. Tommy, that he was thinking of, was his partner. Det. Tommy Oliver, also his training officer when he first made detective. Tommy wasn’t so light on his feet these days. Understandable, since he was nearing fifty, compared to Abel’s still young age of twenty-eight.
“Tommy, he’s heading into the abandoned apartment building on Eighth, catch up old man!” he shouted into his radio.
Abel gave chase into the building, following the perp up the stairs. He lost sight of him a few floors up, but could still hear his footsteps. Nearing the top floor, he heard the door to the roof get thrown open. He cautiously approached, looking around before walking through the doorway.
“I can’t see shit up here,” he thought. All the lights had been broken or burned out long ago, making it hard to see even a few feet in front of himself.  “Of course, I had to find your ass on a cloudy night, at least the moon would’ve given me some fucking light.” He continued forward, wishing he brought his damn flashlight, but this little foot-chase wasn’t planned.
He heard something crack behind him. Spinning on his heels, he turned to barely see a hint of light off the barrel of the gun. Three shots rang out, and he felt them tear through his chest. His vision blurred as he dropped his own gun, and fell backwards. Instinct lead him to use his hands to check the damage. He could barely see, but he could feel the wetness on his hands that told him he was hit bad.
“Abel! Jesus! Hang in there kid!” Tommy shouted as he finally reached the roof.
“At least he remembered his flashlight,” Abel thought. Thinking was all he could do, talking wasn’t an option at this point. Breathing didn’t appear to be either.
“I have an officer down! Abandoned apartments on Eighth! I need an ambulance at this location immediately!” Tommy yelled before tossing the radio aside, and putting pressure on the wounds in Abel’s chest. “Fuck, hang in there kid! You stay with me! Keep your fucking eyes open, you hear me!?”
It was too late though, Abel couldn’t hear him anymore. He was already gone.

Abel awoke in darkness. It was cold, so fucking cold here. He once again reached his hands to his chest, but this time felt nothing. “Where am I,” he thought. “Tommy! Tommy, you there!”
His head bounced off metal as he tried to sit up. Reaching to either side, he felt metal walls. He began to panic, punching, and kicking until his foot knocked open what appeared to be a small door. It took everything he had to slide himself out, and he crashed to the ground for his effort once he did. He felt so damn cold, why was it so cold?
Abel slowly stood on legs that would barely hold him as he looked around. “Is this the fucking morgue? Why am I in the fucking morgue?” His questions were soon answered when he saw his reflection in a nearby mirror. He walked closer, sure he was seeing things wrong. He could see three bullet wounds in his chest, and his skin was pale as death.
“No, No, No I can’t be fucking dead! I can’t be, I’m standing here!” he thought as something strange began to happen. The color in his skin was returning, and his chest appeared to be taking a transparent look. His bullet wounds were closing. As they finished, his chest began to look normal again. “What the fuck is going on! Tommy! He can tell me what happened.”
Abel looked up at the clock, it was two fifteen in the morning. Tommy would be at home, sleeping no doubt, but he didn’t care. This couldn’t wait, he needed answers. He began to rummage through some nearby lockers until he found some clothes that fit him well enough for now, then he snuck out the back door.

He was lucky that Tommy didn’t live far from the station. He had no car, or money for a taxi, so he had to walk here. Tommy’s lights were still on. Strange, with how late it was. Looking through the window, he could see Tommy sitting at his kitchen table. He had a bottle booze and a bible keeping him company.
Abel walked right in the open door, as he always had. “Tommy,” he called as he entered.
Tommy came running into the living room, gun in hand, and an expression of terror on his face. “Abel! You can’t be here! I watched you fucking die!” he shouted. The gun fell from his hand as he began to clutch his chest.
“Tommy, it’s me. I don’t know how, but it’s really me. What happened out there?” It was at this point he noticed that Tommy was having a heart attack. “Shit! Hang in there buddy, I’ll get help!” he said as he ran to the phone on the kitchen wall. “Yeah, my partner is having a heart attack. I need an ambulance at 5553 Meadow Ln. I’m a cop, my name is Det. Abel Kincaid. The man having the attack is a cop as well, get here fast!”
Abel returned to Tommy, he looked in bad shape. “You hang in there buddy, help’s on the way.”



Chapter 1. St. Louis, MO. 2017

Det. Matthew Brooks waited in his new captain’s office. It was his first official day as a member of the STLPD. A recent release from the LAPD under disciplinary circumstances had brought him here. He was beginning to think his career as a cop was over, then he got the call that this department was willing to give him a chance. He wasn’t impressed so far, this place looked run down.
“Good morning Det. Brooks, good to have you,” said Capt. Martin as he entered the office. “Sorry to make you wait, but it’s been a busy morning.
“Not a problem sir, just glad to be here, and just call me Matt if that’s ok.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem, but we need to get a few things straight before you get started Matt.”
“Oh, I’m sure we do,” he thought. “I’m listening Captain.”
“You didn’t come here under the best circumstances. Now, I don’t know if you did what they said, or if you’re innocent like you claim. All I can say is that shit doesn’t fly in my house. If I think for one second that you’re up to something, I’ll shit can your ass in a heartbeat, understood?”
“I understand sir, trust me, you’ll have no trouble out of me.”
“Good, glad we cleared that up. Follow me, I’ll introduce you to your new partner. Not many were keen to work with you, given the circumstance.”
“I figured as much sir, who drew the short straw?”
“Actually, he doesn’t know he’s working with you yet. He’s a bit of weird one to be honest with you. Nobody wants to be partnered with him either, but he’s a damn good detective.”
“That’s all I ask for sir.”
Everybody watched, and whispered as the Captain lead Matt toward two desks at the back. One of the desks was empty, his he was guessing. A younger looking detective sat at the other. Matt would place him around mid-twenties if he had to guess. “At least I get to work with somebody around my age,” he thought. The detective hung up his desk phone as he and the Captain approached.
“Matt Brooks, Abel Kincaid, you two will be working together from now on.” Capt. Martin said as he gestured between them.
“Wait, Captain, I work alone,” Abel said.
“No Kincaid, just because you manage to chase off every partner I assign you, doesn’t mean you work alone. It just means you’re an asshole,” the Captain replied.
“But.”
“I don’t want to hear it, you two are partners, that’s final,” he said as he walked away.
“Nice to meet you,” Matt said as he extended his hand.
Abel shook his hand. “Yeah, nice to meet you too,” he said, though his tone implied otherwise.
Matt sat at the empty desk, looking through the drawers. “Maybe we can get a beer after we finish our shift. I’m not from here, could use someone to show me around.”
Abel looked up from his paperwork. “Let’s just get this out there. I’m not your buddy, and we’re not going to be hanging out after shifts. In a couple of weeks, you’ll request a different partner when you figure all that out.”
“Well, I guess you’re sort of screwed there,” Matt replied.
“What’s that supposed to mean kid?”
“Kid, did he just call me kid? Fucker looks the same age as me.” “I guess you haven’t heard, I’m not exactly welcome here. Nobody wants to be my partner, that’s why I’m with you.
“Alright, I’ll bite, why?”
Matt shook his head. “I’m sure you’ll hear anyway, I was let go from the LAPD under disciplinary circumstances. I was lucky to even get this job.”
“Dirty, or brutal?” Abel asked.
“What?”
“There’s only two main reasons you got let go, most things just get a slap on the wrist, or a suspension. So, I’ll ask again. Were you dirty, or were you brutal?”
“Hey, Fuck you!”
“Sorry to interrupt your engaging introduction, but you two caught a case,” Capt. Martin called.
“What is it?” Abel asked, still locked in a stare down with his new partner.
“Triple homicide, downtown, I’ll text you the address.”
This got both of their attention. A triple homicide was more important than a petty argument. “On our way captain,” Abel said as he grabbed his keys.

“How do you get away with not wearing a suit?” Matt asked as he got into the car. He had never seen a robbery/homicide detective wear a long sleeve t-shirt and jeans while working.
“Captain gives me trouble about it once in a while, but I think he figured out that I don’t give a shit. A suit doesn’t solve a case for you kid.”
“There’s that kid shit again, what’s with this guy?” “I thought it was protocol.”
“You solve enough cases, people tend to leave you alone about the small shit,” Abel replied.
“We get a lot of cases around here?” Matt asked.
“Yeah, we stay pretty busy.”
“Are triple homicides common?”
“I’d have to say no on that.”
The rest of the ride stayed quiet, neither man had much to say to the other. Soon, they were pulling up to the location the captain had texted them. The entrance to the apartment building had been taped off, and uniformed officers were guarding the door.
“Which apartment?” Abel asked one of the officers as they approached the building.
“It’s 3b Det. Kincaid. Go ahead and go up, they’re waiting for you,” the officer replied as he took one side of the tape down. “It’s pretty ripe up there. You want some Vicks?”
“Nah, I’ll be fine, but Hollywood here might,” Abel replied.
Matt waved his hand that he didn’t. “I was wondering how long that would take.”
Abel chuckled as they went upstairs. The smell was as ripe as advertised as they reached the apartment. Forensics was already hard at work inside. “What do we got boys?”
“Three bodies, adult male, adult female, and a teenage male. Guessing Mom, Dad, and son from the photos around. Family name is Deckard,” John Mason replied.
“Matt, this is John Mason, Head Coroner for the city. John, this is my new partner, Matt Brooks.”
“New partner Abel? How long is this one going to last?”
“Up to him I would imagine, but I’d put money on not long.”
“I’m not that easy to get rid of.” Matt said. “Where’s the other kid in the pictures?”
“Nice catch detective, not here is all I can say for now.”
Matt could see that Abel had walked away from the conversation. He was staring at a message written in blood on the far wall behind where the bodies sat. He was staring at it like he had seen a ghost. “Reditus sum? What the hell is that?” he asked as he approached Abel.
“It’s Latin, and it means I’m back,” Abel replied.
“Who’s back?”
“Good question, somebody with a flair for the dramatic I’d say,” Abel replied as he looked closer at the message. “John, looks like we might have a print in the blood. Can you try to lift it?”
John approached, looking where Abel was pointing. “Holy shit, how the hell did you spot that?”
“Good eyes and years of practice.”
“Let me work some magic. We’re pretty much done with collection, feel free to look around.”
Abel and Matt returned to the couch where the bodies had been placed. Abel was silently studying the victims.
“So, we going to work this together, or should I go get a coffee of something,” Matt asked.
Abel flashed an annoyed look before standing. “Alright Hollywood, tell me what you see.”
“Blood spatter indicates the victims were shot right where they are, but ligature marks indicate they were restrained at the time. Most likely, he untied them, and posed them after doing the deed. Looks like double taps to the head from a small caliber firearm was the cause of death, I’d say 9mm if I had to guess.”
“Not bad, so what does that tell you?”
“Our boy doesn’t get off so much on how he killed the victims, too boring of a method for that. He gets his jollies on the created scene, the idea of us seeing what he did.”
“Pretty good kid, you might just do well here,” Abel replied.
“Just not as your partner, right?”
“Bingo.”
“What the hell is your problem?”
“No problem, just prefer to work alone. I don’t like holding peoples hand so they can keep up.”
“Fine, one case, you give me one case. If you feel I can’t keep up with you, I’ll request the damn transfer myself. But, if I do keep up, and you don’t have to hold my hand as you put it, then you shut the fuck up and work with me.”
Abel nodded with a slight smile on his face, he actually seemed a little impressed. “Alright then, you get one case. Let’s head back to the station, I want you to start looking through the archives, see if you can find any similar cases that connect to this one. Doesn’t seem like it’s this guy’s first rodeo.”
“Agreed, and enough with the kid shit. You don’t look any older than me, sounds ridiculous.”
Abel laughed as he started walking out of the apartment. “Let’s go Hollywood, we got work to do.”
“What about the other kid in the photos?”
“We’ll post a unit out front, he’ll turn up.”



Chapter 2.

“You thinking this guy migrated here from somewhere else?” Matt asked.
“I Imagine so, I would remember any cases that looked like that. He can’t be new though, too meticulous for a first time. First time is always sloppy.”
“There’s something else though, isn’t there. You seemed like something was bothering you when you read that message written in blood, like it was something familiar.”
“It was the Latin, just brings up bad memories, nothing important.”
“Abel, you there Abel, come in,” the Captain said over the radio.
“Yeah, I’m here Captain. What’s going on?”
“You two are close to a robbery in progress, possible hostage situation. Gas and Go on Grand Ave.”
“On our way, Captain,” Abel said as he hit the lights and siren.

“Stay low, below the windows. Approach from the front. I’m going around back, don’t enter until I’m in,” Abel ordered after they reached the gas station.
“Got it, be careful, and don’t be too shy to scream if you get into trouble.”
Abel shook his head at the comment. “Just keep your damn head down, don’t need you getting shot on your first day.”
Abel moved around the back of the building. He could see the back door was being held open by a milk crate, possibly how the robbers got in if that was a habit. No one appeared to be in the back room as he entered. A small hallway connected the backroom to the main area of the store. Abel could hear a man’s voice screaming about getting the safe open. Another man was trying to explain that he couldn’t, the safe’s door was on a time lock, and he had to wait for the countdown to open it.
Looking from the doorway, Abel had a good view of the gunman. “Freeze, police!” he screamed with his gun pointed at the suspect. The man turned, beginning to aim his gun at Abel. Two shots sounded off from Abel’s sidearm, striking the suspect center mass as he fell backward. As he went down, Abel heard a blast from his left, followed by the shattering of glass behind him.
Matt burst through the front hearing Abel’s shots at the first suspect. He came in just in time to see the second suspect fire a shotgun at Abel. He wasn’t fast enough to stop the shot, but he put the suspect down with two shots of his own right after. “Abel, are you ok.”
“I’m fine,” Abel yelled back.
“You sure, could’ve sworn he got with you that one from where I was standing.”
“It was close, but he missed.”
“Glad to hear that,” Matt replied as he approached the downed suspect, sliding the shotgun away as he checked for a pulse. “This one’s dead,” he called.
“This one too,” Abel replied as he grabbed the radio from his belt. “This is Detective Kincaid, I have two suspects down at the Gas and Go on Grand Ave. Both suspects are dead, better get the coroner over here.”
Matt circled around the store to where Abel had been standing. He could see the spread of the shot, no way it missed Abel. “You sure you’re not hit? Adrenaline can make you not feel it, and buckshot can be hard to notice if only a few pieces hit you.”
“I’m fine Hollywood, he missed. I think I would know if I was shot.”
“Fine, I just don’t see how he missed. You must be the luckiest person I’ve ever met.”
“Yeah, lucky guy, that’s me,” Abel replied.

“For Christ’s sake Abel, I sent you to stop a robbery, not to give me two more dead bodies to deal with. How many shooting is that this year, six?” the Captain asked as Matt and Abel entered the squad room.
“It’s only four, sir,” Abel replied, trying not to smile at his own smart-ass response.
“Only four, only you can walk in here and say only fucking four. Most people don’t have in four in their whole career.”
“Guess I’m just lucky then, sir.”
“We really didn’t have a choice sir, they started shooting as soon as Abel identified himself,” Matt added.
“Save it for your fucking report Brooks. If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it, understood?”
“Yes sir, I understand. Opinions are like assholes and all that shit,” Matt replied, that one got a smile out of Abel.
“Start looking through those archives, I want to know how many times this guy has done this. If anyone gives you any shit, tell them I told you to look,” Abel said as the Captain walked away.
“I’m on it, how far out do you want me to check?” Matt asked.
“Nation-wide, just in case, he could’ve started anywhere.”
“You got it, I’ll call you when I find something.”
“Maybe this kid isn’t half bad, still need him gone though,” Abel thought as he sat at his desk. He knew it would be awhile before he got any info on that print from the scene, if it even had a match. He knew it wouldn’t really matter even if it did, more to this one than anyone else knew, but like it or not, he knew.
Abel reached into his desk drawer and retrieved his backup side arm, Internal affairs took his service weapon after his interview about the shooting, and he refused to walk around unarmed. As he placed the backup in his holster, his desk phone began to ring. “Robbery/Homicide, Kincaid speaking,” he said upon answer.
“Is this Abel?” said a quiet female voice on the other end.
“Yes ma’am, Abel Kincaid.”
“I need your help Mr. Kincaid,” she said, she sounded frightened.
“Ma’am, if this an emergency I urge you to hang up and dial 911.”
“No, they can’t help me, I was told you could.”
“I’m listening ma’am. How did you get my number if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Maria Sanchez gave me your number. She said you helped her, and that you can help me.”
Everything was becoming clear to Abel now, he remembers Miss Sanchez. “Why don’t you just give me your address, we can speak in person.”
“My address in 2352 Elm Ln. Don’t you need to know what’s going on?”
“No ma’am, you can tell me when I get there. Best not to discuss these matters over the phone. I’m on my way now.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kincaid, please hurry.”

Thursday, December 29, 2016

Balancing writing while having young children.

Balancing writing while having young children:

    Every author that has young children has faced this struggle. Most authors today already balance a full-time job with their writing, but how do you also balance young children that need your attention as well. I myself have two daughters, age eight, and three. I also work a full-time job, and i try to find time to write as well.
      Finding time to write with all these commitments can be challenging, but not impossible if you are truly committed. Options for time are everywhere if you plan ahead. I'll explain some things that have helped me, and hopefully, some may find these useful to them as well.


  1.       Never underestimate the power of an hour: One easy step to accomplish a little more writing in your day is stay up one hour later, or get up one hour earlier. I find that staying up an hour later is a little easier for me, since i tend to be groggy for most of the hour if i choose to get up early. Also, with staying up later my kids are asleep, and i run less risk of them waking up since they have not been asleep all night already
  2.       Nap time!: This one really only applies if you are a stay at home parent, but some are, so i'll include it. If your young ones are still at the glorious age of taking a nap. (and not throwing a sippy cup at you for daring to mention the "N" word that is.) This is an excellent time to get some writing in. I know, you want to do those dishes, or put in that load of laundry. Believe me, those things won't mind waiting for you to use that precious time to get some writing done.
  3.       Lunch break: For those that work, be sure to bring your writing with you to work. Mastering the art of eating and writing at the same time may seem difficult, but the more you do it, the easier it will become. Whether you get an hour or half-hour, time is time, so don't waste it.
  4.       Ask your partner for help: This is the most important point. Never be afraid to ask you partner for help, they probably see how important writing is to you. See if they wouldn't mind taking the kiddos to the park for an hour or two. Maybe, they might be willing stay home with the kids while you go to park for that time, if they prefer it that way. Chances are they are willing to help more than you know.
            There are many more ways to find time to write, too many to list in fact. These are just some of the ways I've found most helpful. Feel free to add some of the ways that help you in the comments. Remember, everything new seems hard at first, but you can train yourself to do almost anything. After all, you already know how to write, and that's one of the hardest parts.