Killing Frank Barnes
Page 1
Killing Frank Barnes
Ruth ducharme
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright 2019 by Ruth DuCharme
Cover art designed and created by Mariah Sinclair @ TheCoverVault.com
Editing done in part by the ever gracious R.C, who insisted that marking up my manuscript with green pen instead of red encouraged financial gain.
If you enjoy Killing Frank Barnes and would like to receive updates on upcoming releases, you can follow Ruth on amazon.
Stay tuned for the next installment in the Roland PD series, Three Days Gone, available June 1st 2019!
Created with Vellum
As a rookie novelist, it is only fitting that this story is about new beginnings and is dedicated to all the rookies who survived my training style. And a special thanks is owed to that one trainee who followed the firetruck, even after I warned him not to. You know who are.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter One
Frank twisted nervously on the hard bench seat. In his twenty-five years, he had never met a cop he didn’t detest. Yet, here he was, in the back of a windowless van that resembled a breadbox, with two detectives manhandling him.
“Stop squirming, kid, the tape won’t stick if you keep moving around like a damn squirrel,” said Roland Police Detective Lawrence. He ripped a second strip of tape off of the roll in his hands and readjusted Franks hidden mic wire.
“Sorry,” Frank muttered. Despite the 74-degree breeze blowing outside the van was suffocatingly short on air.
“This is easy stuff. The wire won’t show and we will hear every word that’s being said,” said Lawrence as he finished taping the thin mic to Frank’s chest. Frank straightened his clean but well-worn Def-Leppard t-shirt to cover it. He slipped on his black leather jacket, which made his pale skin look even more sickly. Lawrence tapped the mic through Frank’s shirt to make sure it worked.
“Remember, maggot,” snorted Detective Werner, “It’s this or jail. You’re lucky we didn’t leave you to rot in county.”
Frank had come to hate Detective Bill Werner over the last month. With the personality of a bully in middle school, Frank was certain he had to be compensating for something.
“Hey lay off the kid, he’s doing his part, aren’t you Barnes,” said Lawrence looking him in the eye. Neither friendly nor aggressive, the look he gave Frank said it all, “You’re just a means to end kid.”
“Yeah, I told you I’d do it so here I am,” Frank replied.
Frank slicked his black hair back out of his eyes and tried to appear nonchalant when he asked Lawrence, “What if something goes wrong?”
Werner rolled his eyes and exhaled in exasperation but Lawrence patted him on the shoulder and said, “Ok Frank, lets cover this one last time. Get out of the van. Walk to building B. See it right over there? We can see you from every vantage point. Jimmy will find you. You give him the money in this here backpack and he will give you the dope. Do you remember the bust signal?”
“Yeah, I say, ‘this shit is banana’s’ like a freaking moron and that’s when you guys come storming over.”
Werner snickered, “It’s a shit thing to say, but it has to be something we will recognize. ‘I’m ready for the cops to come in and rescue me’ would be the end of you.” Werner drew his thumb across his neck in a slicing fashion.
“Asshole,” muttered Frank under his breath.
“What did you say, you little maggot,” Werner snarled as he reached across the back of the van and grabbed Frank by the lapel of his jacket. Werner shoved his meaty face into Franks. Frank felt the spittle on his face as Werner warned him, “Listen maggot, if you mess this up, county lock up will be the least of your worries. Jimmy has bosses and there’s nothing worse than a snitch.”
Lawrence pushed Werner aside “Hey! Knock it the hell off! We have a job to do, fellas. Do just as we practiced kid, ok? No improvising.”
Frank took the chance he might set Werner off again, “What if he has a gun?”
“Just walk away. If something gets hinky, we will hear it on the mic and the cavalry will rush in. Besides, this is a college campus. I doubt he will risk shooting at anything with all these kids around.”
Werner smiled at Frank, “If he has a gun, just make sure he doesn’t blow your head off, maggot.”
Frank would be so glad when he didn’t have to deal with this shmuck any longer.
“Ok maggot, You’re up,” Werner said as he rolled the sliding door of the van open.
Screw Jimmy. It was Jimmy’s fault he was here.
Chapter Two
Frank exited the van; his stomach in knots. He looked for the plain clothes officers that were supposed to be assigned to him but he didn’t see any familiar faces. He wasn’t very good at recognizing cops anyway. Hell, he had sold drugs to one and had no clue until it was too late.
Frank scanned his surroundings with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. This wasn’t even Richmond. Solano Community College was about 30 minutes east of Richmond in the town of Fairfield. It was a little hard to imagine that Jimmy would come this far just to sell weed.
Frank crossed the parking lot and stepped onto the manicured grass of the campus. He walked towards building B and made his way past un-suspecting students and faculty on their way to classes. The campus was nice, and the sun shone warm on his shoulders. Frank tried to imagine what it would be like to be a real student, learning how to be a lawyer or a doctor or artist. He couldn’t even picture it.
Frank made his way through the center of campus and as he crossed between the library and the cafeteria, Frank tried not to stare at the surrounding kids. Thre
e guys in football jerseys pushed past him forcing Frank to step off the concrete path. They looked as if they were straight from practice. Joking and shoving each other, they didn’t even notice him.
A pang of envy shot through Frank. If anyone had given him that life from the start, he would not be in this mess, he thought to himself for the thousandth time in a month. Frank shook it off. He had gotten himself into this and now; he was getting himself out.
Frank located building B. The sign on the building said Criminal Justice. You have got to be kidding me.
Frank took up a position next to a large metal garbage can and leaning his back up against the wall he watched his surroundings as he waited for Jimmy to show.
“Yo, Franky!”
Frank gave Jimmy Collins a quick once over as he watched him crossing the lawn from the west parking lot. Jimmy was short, 5’6 if he was lucky. Jimmy was wearing what he always wore; jeans that sagged half off his ass, a crisp white t-shirt, black puff coat and white shoes. Frank had always wondered how the heck they always looked as if he had just bought them five minutes ago.
Jimmy grinned at Frank as he got closer. Jimmy stretched out his hand as he reached Frank.
“Kinda ironic ain’t it. All these would-be pigs learning how to get the drop on guys like us,” Jimmy laughed.
“Yeah man, what a bunch of fools,” Frank joked as he shook Jimmy’s outstretched hand.
“You owe me, Jimmy,“ said Frank
“Yeah, yeah I know, “ Jimmy shrugged. “When is your court date?”
“Next week,” Frank replied.
“I guess I got you wrong, man. I would think getting caught up would’ve ruined you for this action.”
“Nah, man. What the hell else am I supposed to do? I got fired because of this and I got bills to pay.”
“Lemme see your scratch,”
Frank unzipped the top of the backpack and tipped it towards Jimmy.
Jimmy looked down. “Coo, coo,” Jimmy pulled a brown paper bag out of the depths of his jacket and dropped it into the open mouth of the backpack
“What are you doing?” said Frank.
Jimmy lifted his t-shirt and Jimmy’s eyes went to the dark outline of a handgun stuck in Jimmy’s waistband.
“Wanna buy a piece” Jimmy said as he took a step closer to Frank.
“No thanks.”
“What? You scared, Franky?” Jimmy said as he took the pistol out of his waistband.
“No, I ain’t scared but you better put that thing away before one of these momma’s boys sees it and calls the cops!”
Frank’s thoughts raced and his adrenaline surged. Man, where were the cops when you needed them. Why weren’t they coming in like they said? What were they waiting for? Him to get blasted? Was the mic working? What if they couldn’t see him around the corner?
“Man screw you” Jimmy said, shoving the muzzle of the gun in Frank's face.
“I changed my mind. Why don’t you give me my shit back and I’ll let you live?”
“Man, c’mon. After everything? And now you gonna rip me off too?”
“I said, hand the bag over before I drop you little homey.”
Awash with anger, Frank seriously considered taking that gun and shoving it right down Jimmy’s throat.
Frank dropped the bag and in a move that took Jimmy by surprise, he took a quick step forward and grabbing the gun by the barrel he said, “This shit is bananas” as loud as he could.
Chapter Three
It happened in slow motion. The gun exploded and Frank felt a searing pain in his left shoulder. Did he just get shot? Frank pushed away from Jimmy and heard the officers even before he saw them.
“Drop the gun! Drop the gun, now!” Officers seemed to swarm in from nowhere and everywhere.
An unmarked van drove up on the curb and bounced to a halt. Officers spilled out with rifles and handguns pointed at them both. Jimmy turned toward the commotion.
Frank froze but Jimmy smiled. With the gun still in his hand he turned to face a k9 officer and his leashed dog. “Drop the gun or I‘ll release the dog!”
Suddenly Jimmy took off running. What the hell was Jimmy thinking? Frank dropped into a crouch and ducked behind the garbage can. He tried to shield himself from the chaos and make himself as small as possible.
Frank heard a gunshot. He saw Jimmy’s knee buckle, but he never fell. Jimmy slowed to a lope as he continued towards the north parking lot.
The officer with the dog let go of the leash and Frank watched the missile of fur seek out and hit Jimmy in the legs, knock him to the ground and begin shaking him like a rag doll.
Frank peeked around the garbage can, trying to glimpse Detective Jackson or Werner. He couldn’t see them anywhere. Frank scrambled over to the backpack and grabbed it. He noticed that a few drops of blood stain the backpack. Frank wasn’t entirely sure what to do next but adrenaline was pumping so hard he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears muffling every other sound.
Another gunshot. Frank decided he wasn’t waiting around to get shot again. He righted himself and willed his feet to run as a volley of shots fired in response. Was Jimmy shooting at the dog? Shooting at the cops? Sticking to the wall, Frank pushed through the tide of panicking students and ducked into the first open door he found.
Chapter Four
The school library. Confusion reigned as students ducked under desks while others tried pushing to the exit. Frank fast walked his way to the farthest corner of the stacks. Frank reached the last aisle and, finally hidden from view, he dropped to the floor. He was panting hard and his shoulder was screaming. He was certain he could feel the blood seeping through his jacket. What the hell had he been thinking?
A disembodied voice boomed through the loudspeakers, “Lockdown procedures are in place. No one will enter or leave until law enforcement has cleared the campus of any danger. Please stay where you are and don’t panic. Stay away from doors and windows.”
They locked the doors? How the hell had this happened? Frank peeled back the edge of his jacket and looked at the blood seeping through his shirt and onto his jacket. His shoulder was on fire but the bleeding wasn’t as bad as he had imagined.
“Are you ok?”
Frank froze at the sight of a beautiful, albeit short, girl popped out from behind the closet shelf of books. Frank quickly sized her up. Medium length golden blonde hair, 20’ish, face of angel, she didn’t look like a threat. Before Frank could speak she knelt down beside him. A little close for Franks comfort.
“Are you shot?”
He stayed silent as she pulled his jacket away from his left shoulder and probed the wound.
“Here”, she unwrapped her sweater from her waist and pushed it up against his shoulder, “put pressure on it.”
“I‘m… I‘m ok,” Frank stuttered but flinched in pain as she pushed the sweater in even harder.
The blonde started firing questions at him quietly. “What’s going on out there? I heard shots and then the building locked down. Is there an active shooter? I mean you read news articles of school shootings every day but you never think it will happen to you.” Her words getting quicker and quicker.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he grabbed her hand and held it to his chest. Mostly to keep her from pushing harder on his wound.
“Take a breath. What’s your name?”
“Lizzie”
“Lizzie. Ok, Lizzie, this is no mass shooting. We were conducting an undercover buy and the suspect shot at the cops.”
“Are the cops here? WE? Are you a cop?” Her face washed with relief
“Yeah, yeah, the cops are here. No one else will get hurt.”
“Wait, why aren’t you out there with the rest?”
“I was working undercover, Frank stammered, and the dealer tried to rob me. I called the bust signal. I don’t know how I got shot.” What the hell was he doing? Pretending to be a cop? Shit, this girl asked a lot of questions. He had to get out of here.
“I gotta ge
t back to my partners” he said as he pulled away from her and tried to cover up the wound.
“It’s just a graze, but you need an ambulance.”
“I’m sure my partners have called for one and I can get checked out as soon as the scene is in order”
“Where’s your gun and badge?”
Frank startled, think, dummy, think. “I left them in the van. Undercover, right?”
The voice in the loudspeaker boomed once more, “The lockdown is lifted. Please exit the school and head straight to your vehicles. Campus is closed until Dekkerorrow.”
Frank removed the sweater from his wound and zipped his jacket to cover the blood now staining his shirt. “My teams right outside. I’ll be fine. It’s ok. I’m ok. I gotta get back.”
Frank didn’t even look back at Lizzie as he got to his feet, slung the backpack over his good shoulder and hurried to the front of the library. Once Frank reached the door he had entered by he was able to take a quick look out and gauge the chaos. Shit, the news vans were already here. How did they get here so fast? He scanned the library. Spotting a second door he crossed the library and exited to the west.