The Law Enforcement Factor
I grew up in the 1970s. It’s just a fact. I don’t miss that era, but I do miss the 1980s and that’s essentially for the music. My father was a police officer who later worked his way up to Deputy Director, then Director for a time when the current Director was out for several months. I grew up in a small city and around a group of police officers. These are men and women who I respected, and who treated me as if I was a member of their own family. Some of their spouses even babysat me.
Some of my peers where I went to grade school didn’t like me much, and some of it came from the fact my father was a cop. Cops weren’t to be respected. They were to be called names. Why? At times, because a parent had gotten pulled over for speeding, or…who knows why. I, like a few others, was a “cop’s kid.” I never treated it as a badge of shame. I liked these people. They were good to me. Sure, some of them were flawed. Who isn’t? But they treated me well.
Don’t want a ticket for speeding? Don’t speed. Don’t want to be cited for drunk and disorderly? Don’t drink until you get drunk. If an officer pulls you over, don’t be an asshole. Kind of a golden rule. I’ve been pulled over once in my life. I turned left out of a parking lot and failed to notice a new sign on the opposite side of the street stating no left turns. The officer pulled me over, told me why, and I admitted it. I didn’t realize there was a new sign there. He asked how my driving record was, and I told him it was impeccable. He called it in, then walked up to the car.
“You didn’t lie to me about your record.” Why would I? He can check. Instead of a ticket that included points, he gave me something minor that involved a fine. Lesson learned.
I have friends who are involved in law enforcement. I fear for their safety because of what some of the other law enforcement officers have been doing that’s given them all a bad name. And my outlook on police officers has colored my writing, just in a good way. Falling Awake IV: Retribution is the most I’ve ever written with characters who are police officers. I wanted to be respectful, show some individual flaws, a bit about their creed, and what they’re like as human beings.
My father isn’t with us anymore, and I wish he was. I wish he could read the story and give him his opinion on how I did, and where it needed some work. I’d hope, too, that he’d be proud I did my best to create three-dimensional characters worthy of a novel. I think he’d even laugh a little when I slipped some of the names of people from his department. There were there when I needed them growing up. The least I can do is remember them.
Yes, there are some bad eggs out there in the world. We’ve certainly seen the on the news and in videos. I don’t condone their actions and never would. But, I’ve also seen the good side of law enforcement, the side that is there to protect us and watch over us. I’m grateful for this, and I hold those years very near and dear to my heart. I’m just hoping this shows in the new book.
Book Title: Falling Awake IV: Retribution
Author: Kristoffer Gair
Publisher: Self-Published
Cover Artist: Kris Norris
Release Day: June 19, 2021
Genre/s: M/M Suspense, Thriller
Trope/s: The hunt begins now.
Themes: Loyalty, friendship, sacrifice, love
Heat Rating: 1 flame
Length: 74 000 words
There are three prior books, Falling Awake, Falling Awake II: Revenant, and Falling Awake III: Requiem which need to be read first.
Buy Links
“Some people are so low, they gotta look up to see Hell.”
Blurb
“Some people are so low, they gotta look up to see Hell.”
The death of Thomas Reis continues to ripple through the lives of those connected to his case fourteen years later. Andrew O’Donnell and Lawrence Boggs have already fallen, but three more pick up where the others left off, and each for his own reason.
One believes in justice, the second loyalty, and the third desperately seeks a reason to live. All three, however, share the same final end game; Retribution.
The hunt begins.
Norma peered down at her cup. “Do you know what might have happened to him?”
“Maybe.” Joe leaned in. “I sent somebody down here from Iowa, a young man named Andrew, who was looking for a case file I’d loaned Lawrence. Honestly, I figured things would go one way, and Lawrence would swat the boy on his rear end and send him back home. Turns out the kid had a way about him, and I think they started working together. This tells me Lawrence was already working on a case and they somehow connected, or he found a use for Andrew.
“The problem is, I don’t have a lot to go on. Something isn’t feeling quite right. The parts aren’t adding up, only I’m not getting a big enough glimpse of the picture.” Joe leaned back in his chair. “I need a bit more.”
“Would these help?” She reached under the stack of folders and paperwork, pulled out two large envelopes, and handed them over.
Anybody who knew Lawrence would recognize his handwriting in a heartbeat. Perfectly shaped letters. Same size. Unmistakable. And the words written on the front? JOE MURPHY.
Joe’s head cocked to the side. Curiosity? Disbelief? Both? And then Norma saw something else, a tensing in the man’s posture and a narrowing of the eyes.
The predator senses prey?
Joe hefted the two envelopes in his hand. “Lawrence left these for me?”
The lump in her throat returned. “We have a safe where we keep important paperwork. These were sitting on top of his will. That’s why I was hoping you’d come. I think he knew what he was working on might not end well, and he once told me if anything ever happened to him, you’re the only one he trusted to look into it.”
She watched the man run his fingers across the surface of the envelopes, across his name.
“You didn’t give these to the locals?” he asked. “Or show them?”
She shook her head. “Lawrence trusted you. I’ll put my trust in you before them, too.”
“I don’t know what’s in these.” Joe patted the top envelope. “I can’t promise anything.”
“Don’t expect you to.” Norma sat up straight. Strength. Maybe a little pride. “Maybe one promise. Someone took away my husband, my children’s father. Someone took our love, my happiness, and future. Whoever it is ain’t no better than a roaming, rabid dog, and those kinds of dogs get put down.”
He stared at her. He stared long and hard. “Yes. Yes, they do.”
Kristoffer Gair grew up in Fraser, MI and is a graduate of Grand Valley State University. He is the author of 8 novels—some written under the pseudonum Kage Alan—been a part of 6 anthologies, and currently lives in a suburb of Detroit.
Author Links
Blog/Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram
This sounds like a book that will leave a lasting impression on the reader. That’s the best kind!
As the one who read these, believe me when I say. IT DOES!!
My husband is a retired state trooper. There are so many good ones out there. Sad to focus on the bad.