The Incident
John Montesano
Copyright © 2015 John Montesano
All rights reserved.
ISBN:
ISBN-13: 978-1516838202
DEDICATION
To Andrea
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
PART ONE- THE NEXT PHASE
1
ONE
2
2
TWO
7
3
THREE
11
4
FOUR
15
5
FIVE
18
6
SIX
21
7
SEVEN
23
8
EIGHT
26
9
NINE
31
10
TEN
34
11
ELEVEN
37
12
TWELVE
39
13
THIRTEEN
42
14
FOURTEEN
46
15
FIFTEEN
49
16
SIXTEEN
52
FIRST JOURNAL ENTRY
56
17
SEVENTEEN
57
18
EIGHTEEN
61
19
NINETEEN
64
PART II- BLAME
20
TWENTY
68
21
TWENTY ONE
71
22
TWENTY TWO
75
23
TWENTY THREE
79
SECOND JOURNAL ENTRY
83
24
TWENTY FOUR
84
25
TWENTY FIVE
89
26
TWENTY SIX
92
27
TWENTY SEVEN
95
28
TWENTY EIGHT
97
29
TWENTY NINE
100
30
THIRTY
104
31
THIRTY ONE
107
32
THRITY TWO
111
THIRD JOURNAL ENTRY
115
33
THRITY THREE
116
34
THRITY FOUR
120
PART III- RECRUITS
35
THIRTY FIVE
128
36
THIRTY SIX
132
37
THIRTY SEVEN
136
38
THIRTY EIGHT
142
39
THIRTY NINE
145
40
FORTY
148
41
FORTY ONE
151
42
FORTY TWO
154
43
FORTY THREE
158
44
FORTY FOUR
160
45
FORTY FIVE
163
46
FORTY SIX
167
47
FORTY SEVEN
170
48
FORTY EIGHT
174
49
FORTY NINE
177
50
FIFTY
179
51
FIFTY ONE
182
52
FIFTY TWO
187
53
FIFTY THREE
191
54
FIFTY FOUR
194
55
FIFTY FIVE
197
56
FIFTY SIX
200
FOURTH JOURNAL ENTRY
204
57
FIFTY SEVEN
205
58
FIFTY EIGHT
207
59
FIFTY NINE
210
60
SIXTY
214
61
SIXTY ONE
217
62
SIXTY TWO
220
63
SIXTY THREE
226
FIFTH JOURNAL ENTRY
228
64
SIXTY FOUR
233
65
SIXTY FIVE
236
66
SIXTY SIX
239
67
SIXTY SEVEN
242
PART IV- CRASH AND BURN
68
SIXTY EIGHT
248
69
SIXTY NINE
252
70
SEVENTY
256
71
SEVENTY ONE
260
72
SEVENTY TWO
263
73
SEVENTY THREE
265
74
SEVENTY FOUR
269
75
SEVENTY FIVE
271
76
SEVENTY SIX
274
77
SEVENTY SEVEN
276
78
SEVENTY EIGHT
279
79
SEVENTY NINE
282
80
EIGHTY
285
81
EIGHTY ONE
288
82
EIGHTY TWO
291
83
EIGHTY THREE
294
84
EIGHTY FOUR
296
85
EIGHTY FIVE
299
86
EIGHTY SIX
303
87
EIGHTY SEVEN
305
88
EIGHTY EIGHT
308
89
EIGHTY NINE
311
90
NINETY
314
91
NINETY ONE
317
92
NINETY TWO
321
93
NINETY THREE
325
94
NINETY FOUR
329
95
NINETY FIVE
334
96
NINETY SIX
338
97
NINETY SEVEN
342
98
NINETY EIGHT
346
99
NINETY NINE
350
100
ONE HUNDRED
353
EPILOGUE
358
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
There are an incredible amount of people that I owe a great deal of gratitude to in making this dream a reality. It begins with my beautiful wife Andrea whose support and patience drove me to complete this novel and see it through. She and her sister, Danielle Moreau, were my beta readers and weren’t afraid t
o point out my errors and flaws and for that I tremendously thank you both.
The following people were overly generous in contributing to my Kickstarter project to have this novel professionally edited and for that I am indebted to you for life: Adele Kertesz, Karen Avillo, David Perez, Susan Silvestri, and Donna Gustafson, who I consider part of my work family; Donald Jaconia, Matt Johnston, Dan Gilmore and Jamie Nolan, who I will consider friends for life; David Gaipa, who is a stranger to me as we never met but there has been a connection since he was the first to donate to my project. Then there is my actual family: Mary Anne Moreau, Jim and Kristen Montesano, Roy Montesano, Nancy Montesano, Ashley Danks, Charlie Montesano, my father Joe Montesano as well as my brother Joe Montesano, who continues to amaze me on a daily basis with his indescribable generosity.
I give special recognition to my mother, Ann Dobbelaar, who did contribute to the Kickstarter program but has contributed so much more than her hard earned money. She sacrificed so much over the years that if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be where I am and you wouldn’t have the honor of getting to know Chase Barnes.
Thank you to you and all of your families for your contributions and I hope you enjoy!
PART I-
The Next Phase
One
Even though I wasn’t supposed to, I dropped by the department a couple of times in the last six months. According to Fitzgerald, I was to stay away from the department for the entire duration of my mandatory leave. His psychoanalytic conclusion was that returning to the department would only make things worse. Everyone apparently has their PhD in analyzing Chase Barnes. But I couldn’t help it if Dr. Sharper’s office was directly across the street from the department. Fitzy unsuccessfully tried to use brute force to get me to leave my old stomping grounds after my first two attempts to visit.
I once again took it upon myself to visit for a third time and waited until I knew Fitzgerald would be out of the office and handcuffed myself to his desk just so he’d give me a chance to talk. Upon entering, I heard Fitzgerald let out a frustrated sigh the moment he realized who was sitting with their back to him. He initially ignored me and went about his business. It wasn’t until after he sat and began adjusting case files on his desk that he noticed the cuffs. I rattled and clanged the cuffs against the metal desk until the hairs on Fitzgerald’s neck stood at attention. He did nothing but shake his head and chuckle. What else could he do?
He had to let me back to work. I needed to be back to work. I fed him the bullshit that it was per doctor’s orders. I knew he wouldn’t buy it, considering he’d have to check with Dr. Sharper to get her supposed professional opinion as to whether I was ready to return. She ultimately had the final say and needed to sign off on the necessary paperwork that indicated I was ready to return to action. At first, I thought it was a breach of doctor- patient confidentiality but then I realized I didn’t care all that much.
“Fitzy, I need to work. This domesticated bullshit is killing me. Just knowing that I can’t work is making me nuts,” I said. It was the same routine I’d delivered during my previous visits but had ended in failure. I suddenly felt like an inmate pleading for approval from the parole board. Each time adding more and more empathy. Home had become my prison.
“I’m sure Lindsey loves having you home.”
I looked at him, disregarding the comment. Then said: “And what about poor Drew? I’m sure he’s a lost puppy without me.”
“Drew is just fine. Listen, come back in a week and we’ll talk about your assignment.” I noticed the inflection in his voice, almost as if he had an answer to his plan but wasn’t ready to reveal.
“Really, you’ll let me back to work in a week?” I asked.
“No, dipshit. I said come back in a week and we’ll talk.”
Throughout our few minutes of conversation he hadn’t looked at me once. He finally grazed a casual glance my way.
“A week? What the hell is this bullshit? Every day for the last six months I’ve had to relive that night.” I was shouting. “It’s grown beneath my inner conscience and festered at the base of my brain like a fucking cancerous tumor. I haven’t learned a damn thing since and it’s literally beginning to kill me. “
Fitzgerald threw up his hands in surrender. He said, “Okay, okay, okay. I gotcha, buddy. I’m with you on that one and we’ve been working it since you left and haven’t come up with anything worth a cup full of shit.”
“I know it should be the least of my concerns but I can’t keep fighting to answer what the hell he was doing in Paterson? That’s the shit that keeps me up at night. Well, that and the fact that I wish I could’ve done something different. Of all the drug busts, prostitution rings, and gang violence I’ve taken on in the three years I’ve been on the force, I had to be called to that 7-11 on that night and watch it all unfold the way it did.”
“What does Lindsey think?” Fitzgerald said.
“I haven’t told her everything. I can’t.”
“What about Sharper?”
“Fuck her. She’s a waste,” I said. “Lindsey makes a better counselor but I’m sure it’s difficult to counsel when you don’t know the full story.”
Fitzgerald simply sat and listened. He was good like that. Never judgmental. Never opinionated. He just let you talk.
“She tries to remind me that I was just doing my job and that I will always be a damned good cop,” I said.
Yeah, right. Doing my job as a damned good cop? I don’t think so.
“You are and you will be again,” he said.
“Where the hell did Jake get the money or even the resources to get the LSD that they found in his system? And the gun?”
Fitzgerald shrugged. He had no answer. No one did.
The dealer was never found. Immediately following that night, I wanted to get back on the beat with Drew, my latest partner, thinking that pushing through the experience and getting back to work would allow me to be a cop again but it wasn’t the remedy I was looking for. Instead, I received a six month involuntary leave and was forced to see Dr. Karen Sharper on a weekly basis.
“Jake was not a drug user,” I said just to be saying something.
“I know,” Fitzgerald said.
I debated leaving the police force all together and pursuing another career. I’m only thirty- two and figured I still had plenty of time to make a career move but my wife and my shrink tell me otherwise. At first, I thought the advice was complete asinine bullshit but since it came from both of them I figured I could give it some serious consideration.
They both, in their own jargon of course, advised that I leave the front lines of the police force and become a detective. I was hesitant at first because my mind was made up and I was ready to flip the entire police industry the bird. I gave it some thought and decided to go for it. Lindsey was surprised; however, when I told her I wanted to become a homicide detective. She assumed I’d pursue the narcotics division considering my experiences with Jake and all but homicide is where I wanted to be. Fitzgerald was yet to learn about my future ambitions.
“I’m taking the test when I come back,” I said.
Fitzgerald paused and looked at me. “What test?”
“The detective’s test, of course.”
Silence.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Fitzgerald finally said. “What department, narcotics?”
“Homicide. There is nothing in this world that would please me more than to stumble across the rotting flesh of the son of a bitch that sold Jake the drugs.”
Two
The chills ran through Fitzgerald’s body so violently I could actually watch them pulsate through his veins. He didn’t- couldn’t- say anything for a few minutes. All he did was nod.
“I see what you’re saying. I’ll consider it. Now get the hell out of my office before I have to call the police,” he finally said.
“Thanks, Fitz.” The excitement was building in me and I could feel it beginning to spill over like a b
ubbling volcano. Fitzgerald made another facial gesture, which was a clear indication that my time was up and time for me to go.
If it wasn’t bad enough that I couldn’t sleep as it was in the last six months, the following week had been my own experiment of what it would be like to be a Panamanian night monkey. I began to feel nocturnal. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have a Tylenol PM or Ambien- induced sleep. The voices in my head prohibit me from resting my head on the pillow. Other times, the pills get me to at least close my eyes but the voices are there to jolt me out of my light haze. The voices remind me of that night and convince me that Jake recognized the commands from the police officers chasing him through the alley and was willing to surrender rather than take aim at a cop. I couldn’t go by Sharper’s analysis because one week she would agree with my theory and the she would question my thoughts the next. I was beginning to believe that Dr. Sharper was not a very good therapist and had not one clue as to what the fuck she was talking about.
During the next week, I felt like the number of things I had done outweighed the number of things I hadn’t, which was the first time in a long time. However, sleep was the one thing that still evaded me. I wound up on the couch in the living room each night because I was so restless and didn’t want to keep Lindsey up at night. She tried to sympathize but we both knew she’s not exactly a runway model in the morning. Monday couldn’t get here fast enough.
The Incident (Chase Barnes Series Book 1) Page 1