Morvicti Execution: A Morvicti Tale (A Morvicti Novel) Read online
MORVICTI EXECUTION
A MORVICTI TALE
LEE SWIFT
SUSPENSE PUBLISHING
Morvicti Execution
by
Lee Swift
DIGITAL EDITION
* * * * *
PUBLISHED BY:
Suspense Publishing
Lee Swift
COPYRIGHT
2016 Lee Swift
PUBLISHING HISTORY:
Suspense Publishing, Digital Copy, 2016
Cover Design: Shannon Raab
Cover Photographer: iStockphoto.com/ biriberg
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
MORVICTI EXECUTION
LEE SWIFT
“The mitochondrial DNA of the Denisova Cave finger bone fragment, indicates that living in the same society among Homo sapiens 40,000 years ago was a minority of members from a differing subspecies, as yet unidentified by the scientific community. It is likely the evidence that this secret hominid still exists alongside mankind will eventually be found in living subjects who appear fully human in every aspect, except for their DNA. These individuals may or may not be aware of their uncommon lineage.”
Dr. Thomas Wilson speaking to The Royal Society of London for Improving Natural Knowledge, 14 December.
Seeing the burned out brake light on the ’64 Chevy Impala, rookie Officer Cassie Wright called in the plates. The black car turned into an alley behind a line of boarded up businesses on North Chadbourne Street. The only shop still operating was Sabrina’s Bakery at the end of the block. The revitalization of downtown San Angelo, Texas, hadn’t quite reached this far yet. Cassie had no doubt that in a couple of years investors would come knocking on these doors as well, but right now this area was deemed one of the worst in town.
Sitting behind the wheel of their squad car, Officer Chuck O’Malley, the seasoned veteran Cassie had been assigned to since her very first day, hit the lights. He was the only non-native Texan on the force and one of its most respected officers.
“We got him blocked in, rookie,” O’Malley said in his thick New York accent.
No one at the station ever referred to her by name. Always “rookie.” She couldn’t wait to get rid of that title and become “Officer Wright” in the department. Especially in O’Malley’s eyes. She’d asked her partner how long it would be before she could shed the “rookie” title. He’d addressed her in a tone that was gentle—more like a dad talking with a daughter than a hard-boiled cop putting a rookie in their place.
“Not sure. That’ll depend on several things. Do you have to be led by the hand through every procedure? Will you learn fast? Can I trust you to have my back when things get tough? When the shit hits the fan, you’ll know when you’ve grown a pair. That might take a month, a year, five years, or it might never happen. It all depends on you, Officer Wright.”
That was the first and last time he’d ever called her by name—day one. Next week would be her six-month anniversary wearing the badge. She and O’Malley had faced some difficult situations, and he’d often praised her afterward on her skills. And yet he still called her “rookie.”
Though she had never known her real father, O’Malley felt like a dad to her on many levels.
Cassie wasn’t parentless. She had a mother who lived in a small rural town only twenty-five miles west of San Angelo. Although she loved her, Cassie always felt her mom had a few screws loose because of her fanatical beliefs in the supernatural, especially her fascination with blood.
Always the damn blood.
That’s why of all the officers Cassie could’ve been assigned to, she was glad it had turned out to be the middle-aged, sensible-minded, slightly balding, gray-headed man who had offered her the well-known cop’s olive branch her first day on the job—a bad cup of coffee.
O’Malley had requested her out of the five new officers who joined the force that day. Turned out he had been quite the sharpshooter, like her, when he’d come out of the police academy years earlier.
“The owner of the Impala is Anne Bennett,” the dispatcher’s voice shot back through the radio. “Last reported residence was one six five nine East Fourteenth Street. Bennett is sixty-six years old; has no arrests or outstanding warrants. Car has not been reported stolen.”
“Ten-four,” Cassie responded. “Driver is a white male, dark hair. Wearing a black jacket.” What could this man be to Anne Bennett that she would trust him with her vehicle? How are they connected?
“Standing by.”
She released the transmit button. “Might be a relative of the owner.”
“Or a boyfriend,” O’Malley said. “Whoever the guy is, he can’t drive out of the alley.”
She nodded, seeing the large delivery truck parked behind the bakery, blocking the exit.
The driver of the Impala stepped out, waved, and smiled at them.
“Time to go to work.” She and O’Malley exited their car.
“Stay where you are, sir,” O’Malley ordered the driver. “And keep your hands where I can see them.”
“Yes, Officer.”
With her hand on her weapon, Cassie moved to the back of Anne Bennett’s vehicle, assessing the driver and taking note of their surroundings.
She guessed the guy’s age to be mid-twenties. His height at five-eight, about three inches taller than she was. Black jacket. Brown shorts. Sandals. A tribal tat circled his left ankle. His frame was quite slim; one hundred thirty pounds at most. Short dark hair. Brown eyes. His face had several open sores, which could mean a couple of things—a bad case of acne, or he was a drug user. Cassie suspected the latter.
Having an eidetic memory, she would never forget his face. Every detail would remain with her for the rest of her life. Her incredible memory gave her many advantages, but more often than not it was actually a burden. If she could get rid of just one embarrassing memory, it would be the Mertzon Halloween Festival when she was six. Seeing the shocked looks on her classmates’ faces as her mother dragged her away from the event was burned in her mind; just as fresh and painful now as the day it had happened.
According to her mother’s craziness, her unusual memory was due to some “special” genetics. Ridiculous.
“Do you know why we stopped you?” her partner asked the driver.
“No, sir.” The man’s eyes darted back and forth from her to O’Malley and back again. Cassie noted that even with the calm voice he was using, his anxiety was clear, which put her on guard. “I wasn’t speeding, was I?”
Coming around the other side of the Impala, Cassie peered in. The seats were empty, but on the floorboard she saw two large, clear plastic bags filled with a white powdery substance.
“Hands in the air,” she ordered the driver, pulling her gun from the holster. “O’Malley, two bags of narcotics, front passenger floorboard.”
Her partner drew his gun. “You heard her. Hands up.”
Realizing they had interrupted a drug deal, Cassie swung around, aiming her weapon. All the possible targets on the assailant’s body flashed in her mind. She could shoot the man between his eyes or in his heart, taking him out for all time. It would be easy. One shot would stop the perp from harming her partner. But that wasn’t her best option. Better to incapacitate the creep so she and O’Malley could bring him in for questioning. In the academy they were trained to shoot center mass because there was less chance of missing the target. But Cassie didn’t miss. Ever.
All these thoughts and more went through her head in a fraction of a second.
She squeezed the trigger of her Smith & Wesson, firing a bullet into the shooter’s arm. He dropped his weapon and fell to the ground.
O’Malley swung around, giving the driver a window of opportunity to escape. The man started running. Without hesitation, O’Malley ran after him.
The shooter, who was closer to her, jumped to his feet and raced away in the opposite direction, toward the delivery van. Even wounded, he was fast. But Cassie was faster, tackling him only a few yards from the dumpster.
She pulled the man’s hands behind his back and slapped cuffs around his wrists.
“You’re hurting me,” he complained.
“You have my sympathies,” Cassie shot out the sarcasm as quickly as the bullet. “You shouldn’t have tried to shoot my partner.”
Unlike his buddy, this guy wore a white shirt and black slacks. He looked like he could be a waiter on his way to start his shift.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw O’Malley had the other drug dealer cuffed and on the ground.
O’Malley reported their situation back to central. “Two men in custody. One man shot. Request an ambulance. Situation under control.”
“Ten-four. Backup arriving on scene; five minutes out.”
Following protocol, Cassie frisked her prisoner. The blood from the bullet wound saturated his bright, white garb. The wound would heal over time, although much longer than it would have taken for her to heal if things had turned out differently.
Her mother’s voice whispered inside her head. “You heal faster because of our lineage, Cassie.”
She willed her mother’s babblings away. She had a job to do.
Discovering a knife in her suspect’s left pocket and a little bag of heroin in the other, confidence and a bit of glee—knowing this “rookie” had made the right call—rolled through her system. “You got a name?”
The drug dealer glared at her but didn’t respond. She noted the marks on his arms, a clear indication that he was not just selling the crap but was also heavily into using.
With his hand on the other guy’s head, O’Malley placed his suspect in the backseat of the squad car. Once the dealer was secure, he shut the door.
As her partner moved next to her, Cassie heard sirens in the near distance. “They’ll be here any minute.”
O’Malley nodded. “So much for a routine traffic stop, Officer Wright.”
She couldn’t help but smile, hearing him call her by name. “That’s for sure, Officer O’Malley.”
“Nice shot.” His compliments were always short and to the point—just the way she liked them. “You kept me from taking a bullet in the back, and me so close to retirement. Thanks.”
“Just doing my job, partner. Just doing my job.”
A couple of hours later, and with both prisoners on ice—one at the hospital and the other in lockup—she and O’Malley finished filling out their paperwork at headquarters.
Anne Bennett had arrived at the station to give her statement. Turned out she was the driver’s grandmother. The sweet looking lady shed a tear, saying she’d known he was running with the “wrong crowd” but had no idea he was dealing drugs.
Cassie empathized with Mrs. Bennett having to deal with a troubled family member. Their situations were different, of course, but the levels of frustration and worry were the same. The woman had to deal with her grandson’s issues with drugs. Cassie had to deal with her mother’s paranoia…drug-free paranoia. She wasn’t quite sure which was worse.
Several fellow officers came by congratulating Cassie and O’Malley on the arrest. One referred to her as “rookie” but O’Malley corrected him right away.
Finally, Cassie felt like she was accepted.
“I’m buying you a beer, Wright.” O’Malley looked at his watch. “We’ve been officially off duty for over an hour.”
Before she could accept his invitation, her cell buzzed. A picture of her mom popped up on the screen and her sigh was audible. “It’s my mom. I wonder what it is now.”
“Tell your mother I said hello.” He stood. “I’ll give you some privacy. I’ll be in the break room.” He offered her a proud smile, like any kind father would do. “You did good tonight, Wright. Really good.”
Cassie watched O’Malley walk away and brought the phone slowly up to her ear. “What is it this time, Mom?”
“Cassie, I need you.” Her mother’s familiar panicky tone hit her eardrums like a jackhammer. “There’s someone outside the house. I think they’ve found us. Please Ancestors, help me.”
“Mom, it will be okay.” Cassie softened her tone. Even though it was so difficult to go through this again and again, she didn’t want her mom to be scared. “I’m on my way.”
She would have suggested that her mom contact the local sheriff, but she knew he and his deputies had been called so many times in the past that they’d pretty much chalked her mother up as a crazy woman. Besides, she’d learned that it was just better to handle these outbursts alone. Cassie hated how frustrated her mother made her, but like O’Malley always said—she was still her mother.
“Hurry, baby. I’m scared.”
“I’m leaving now, Mom. Just breathe.” Several times Cassie had considered moving out of state just to be free of the aggravation her mother caused her. But in the end, the farthest she was willing to go was less than twenty-five miles away. Regardless of her mother’s mental instability and paranoia, Cassie loved her. Her mom was her responsibility. There was no one else. But being her only child had its consequences.
O’Malley stood by the candy bar machine, staring as usual at the choices. She grinned, knowing he would end up selecting the same one he always did—a Three Musketeers bar.
O’Malley was the one person she’d told about her situation with her mother. Without fail, he was ready to listen when things with her mom got difficult. He’d been available to give her advice, especially through some of the worst times. And he’d helped her to better deal with the anger she’d carried since childhood, yet she still couldn’t seem to completely let go of all the resentment that had built up inside. O’Malley always assured her that in time she would. Cassie wasn’t so sure. She might never miss a shot at a criminal during her lifetime, but she most definitely missed the understanding she needed in order to deal with her mother.
“I have to take a rain check on that beer,” she told him and shrugged. “Mom’s having one of her usual emergencies.”
“I’m going with you, Wright. You never know.” In uniform or not, O’Malley was always a cop. “We’re police officers. It’s our duty to check out every situation.”
“She’s cried wolf so many times, I’m sure it’s nothing. Besides, her house isn’t in our jurisdiction.”
“Doesn’t matter, Officer Wright. I’m still going.” He turned and looked at her; a face she couldn’t argue with.
“Okay. You do seem to bring out the best in Mom. And she always keeps beer in the fridge.”
He smiled wide. “I knew I liked that woman for a reason. I’ll drive.”
“Fine with
me.” She knew how proud O’Malley was of his Ford F-150. He’d only had it for two weeks and it still had that new-car smell.
O’Malley steered the truck out of the station’s parking lot. “I heard about your coffee date with Ranger Wade.”
Cassie immediately rolled her eyes. “You can’t keep a secret in our station, can you? It wasn’t really a date.”
She’d met Texas Ranger Allen Wade three days ago at the firing range. When Wade had suggested they meet for coffee the next day, she’d decided to accept. He was certainly good looking. Six-five. Blond hair and blue eyes. Square jaw. Cassie was no slob—she had inherited her mother’s dark wavy hair and green eyes, and had been in shape even before the academy. Still, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of insecurity at his interest. Her love life was pretty much nonexistent. Why? Probably because when things got too serious, she knew she would have to eventually introduce her dates to Mom. Best to remain single.
“Coffee?” O’Malley grinned, stopping at the last traffic light inside the city limits. “One time thing, then? Just friends? Or did he ask you out again?”
“We’re having dinner tomorrow night.”
“Friends dinner or romantic dinner?” O’Malley prodded.
Cassie felt her cheeks burn from embarrassment. “I don’t know for sure.”
“I’m just glad you’re giving it a chance, Wright. You deserve good things.”
At least he wasn’t going to tease her about it. “It’s past time for me to get out of my shell and start acting like a normal person.”
“You’re a cop. You won’t ever be completely normal. Just be careful with this Ranger, kiddo.” O’Malley pulled away from the traffic light, speeding along the road to Mertzon.
“Why would you say that?” Cassie would have thought he’d be happy she was with a fellow law enforcement officer.
“Just being overprotective with you, I suppose.”
Morvicti Blood (A Morvicti Novel Book 1)
Morvicti Execution: A Morvicti Tale (A Morvicti Novel)