Roland P.D.
Books 1 -3
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
The Roland P.D. Omnibus includes books 1-3 in the ever evolving Roland P.D. series.
Killing Frank Barnes
Three Days Gone
Missing
If you would like to receive updates on upcoming releases, you can follow Ruth on Amazon, Facebook, Instagram or Goodreads. You can also subscribe to her newsletter or check out her website at ruthducharme.com
Honest reviews are always coveted
Created with Vellum
Contents
KILLING FRANK BARNES - BOOK 1
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 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
THREE DAYS GONE - BOOK 2
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
Chapter 116
Chapter 117
Chapter 118
Chapter 119
Chapter 120
Chapter 121
Chapter 122
Chapter 123
Chapter 124
Chapter 125
Chapter 126
Chapter 127
Chapter 128
Chapter 129
Chapter 130
Chapter 131
Chapter 132
Chapter 133
Chapter 134
Chapter 135
Chapter 136
Chapter 137
Chapter 138
Chapter 139
Chapter 140
Chapter 141
Chapter 142
Chapter 143
Chapter 144
Chapter 145
Chapter 146
Chapter 147
Chapter 148
Chapter 149
Chapter 150
Chapter 151
Chapter 152
Chapter 153
Chapter 154
Chapter 155
Chapter 156
Chapter 157
Epilogue
MISSING - BOOK 3
Chapter 158
Chapter 159
Chapter 160
Chapter 161
Chapter 162
Chapter 163
Chapter 164
Chapter 165
Chapter 166
Chapter 167
Chapter 168
Chapter 169
Chapter 170
Chapter 171
Chapter 172
Chapter 173
Chapter 174
Chapter 175
Chapter 176
Chapter 177
Chapter 178
Chapter 179
Chapter 180
Chapter 181
Chapter 182
Chapter 183
Chapter 184
Chapter 185
Chapter 186
Chapter 187
Chapter 188
Chapter 189
Chapter 190
Chapter 191
Chapter 192
Chapter 193
Chapter 194
Chapter 195
Chapter 196
Chapter 197
Chapter 198
Chapter 199
Chapter 200
Chapter 201
Chapter 202
Chapter 203
Chapter 205
Chapter 206
Chapter 207
Chapter 208
Chapter 209
Chapter 210
Chapter 211
Chapter 212
Chapter 213
Chapter 214
Chapter 215
Chapter 216
Chapter 217
Chapter 218
Chapter 219
Chapter 220
KILLING FRANK BARNES - BOOK 1
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.
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.
“Sor
ry,” 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 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.
“Jerk,” 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 Roland. Sorro Community College was about 30 minutes east of Roland. It was a little hard to imagine that Jimmy would come this far just to sell dope.
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. Three guys in football jerseys pushed past him forcing Frank to step off the concrete path. They looked as if they had come 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 those shoes always looked as if Jimmy 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 sasked 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’re gonna rip me off too?”