Torn By My Duty (Piper Falls: Station 28, #2)

Chapter One

Bright red and blue lights fill my vision.

This is my life.

My every waking moment.

I chose this life the day I swore under oath to protect my hometown, Piper Falls, in Texas. It was the best decision I’ve made after joining the Air Force when I was eighteen. In my head, that only choice I had was to re-enlist or join the force. I figured after I spent ten years serving my country, I could go home. IT was time to become a civilian again. My mama needed me, and I wasn’t going to let her down.

About a year before I came back, my mom was diagnosed with stage two liver failure. I was ready to sacrifice everything and run home to her. She stopped me, though. The way she reacted to her failing organs was calm and collected. She told ‘em that she’d be fine and there was no reason for me to get in trouble. It took me a while to see she was lying. She needed me, but never wanted to tell me.

My mother didn’t live a normal life when she was growing up. She was a wild child to some, but the truth is that she was only trying to survive in this world. So when she begged me a few months before it was time to re-enlist to come home, I didn’t think twice.

My mama was never a classy lady. She wasn’t even legal in the states until the man I call my father came into her life. He took us into his home off the streets, and they fell in love. He showed her what it was like to live a simple, free life. He’s also the biggest reason I chose the career path that I did.

My name is Sebastian Martinez, Homicide Detective for the Piper Falls Police Department. The man I call my father is Hector Martinez, retired Homicide Detective from the Piper Falls Police Department. He’s a known legend around the precinct, which gives me big shoes to fill.

I tried to keep it quiet when I first started because I didn’t want to let anyone down. I also wanted to make a name for myself without his being the first they thought of. He understood, but the older officers who worked with him knew. They’re the reason I had to get my ass in gear even faster. In two years time, I found a way to climb the ladder. I started off as a patrol officer and ended where I currently am. It was one of the fastest inclines in the history of our department.

But it’s never felt right.

This is the life I’ve always dreamed of. The life I worked so hard to get. But I know my dream hasn’t been fulfilled.

When I was younger, I wanted it all. A house. Kids in the yard. A wife. All of it was my fantasy because it was something I craved when I was little.

My dad didn’t come into our lives until I was almost eight-years-old. Before that, my mother would drink her way out of the gutter and find a guy who would pay for a room for the night. She had to do awful things to make sure we had somewhere to go, but she never complained. I want to break that cycle though. I was raised to never leave a woman alone on the streets. It might be one of my biggest downfalls at times, but I’ll accept that.

Pulling up to the scene that’s currently lighting the entire street, I jump out of my car, and waltz my way over to the other officers. My Lieutenant, Caden Andrews, stands with his arms crossed over his chest, groaning about whatever took place. He’s the man I need to talk to. He always is.

I let my feet carry me over to him. He looks my direction, and where he usually has soft eyes, at least when it comes to me, they’re hard as stone right now. Whatever happened is bad. Really fucking bad.

“What happened?” I ask once I reach him.

He turns back to the scene, shaking his head. “It doesn’t make any fucking sense. Not at all,” he growls. He turns back to face me, running his hand down his face. “It’s your scene, Martinez.” I tilt my head to this side. I already assumed it was my scene since they called me in for it. “Double homicide.”

“Then let me get to work,” I announce, trying to push past him. He stops me shaking his head.

“There’s more.” He places his large hand on my shoulder. “One of the men inside,” he pauses looking around. “He’s one of us,” he whispers. “He was an undercover for narcotics in Austin. I haven’t seen him for years, actually.” He scratches his head. “I honestly thought he already died. I swear he did. Maybe I still have his obituary at home because I never forget a fallen brother’s funeral.”

He’s right. Caden Andrews would never mistake a fallen brother for another. I trust him more than I trust anyone else in this department. He’s as good as they come, and a damn good officer of the law. “Who is it?” I ask curiously.

“Brian Phillips.” He looks back at the house, and my mind races. Caden is right. Phillips died almost three years ago in the line of fire while undercover. I remember going to his funeral. I know exactly where his obituary is in my house. Brian wasn’t a stranger to me. We graduated the academy together, but we chose different paths in our careers. Before his death, I hadn’t seen him for almost two years because of his assignment. He was undercover pretty deep with the Mexican Cartel here in Texas, but he was found dead, shot execution style, on his own front door step back here in Piper Falls. It wasn’t a case that anyone can forget, if I’m being honest.

I don’t say anything else. What else can I say about it until I walk into the crime scene and start collecting all the evidence I need? This case just became one hell of a mess, and I’m the one who has to untangle all the webs. Sure, I have a partner, Mike Wilson, but I don’t trust that flaky son of a bitch as far as I can kick him. He rarely ever comes to work on time, and when he does, he’s lazy as fuck. The only reason he still has a job on the force is because I’ve covered for him more than I care to admit. I was young once too, but this dude needs to grow the fuck up.

The fact Lieutenant Andrews didn’t ask where Mike is tells me all I need to know. He sees what’s going on and has grown accustomed to it. That thought alone tells me I’ll be getting a new partner very soon. This was probably his last straw since most of the cases we work come from Caden to begin with.

I walk into the house, lifting the caution tape as I show my badge and enter the scene. Blood coats the walls and floors. This place looks like an explosion of blood and guts. When the forensics team arrives, I walk them back. They take pictures of a female body lying face down on the floor, then walk over to the body in question.

Brown, familiar eyes look up at me. His face is untouched, making it easy to identify him, but his organs are long gone from his body. Whoever did this had a reason. Nobody empties out someone's entire body cavity without some kind of explanation.

I squat down, pulling out my own forensic kit, and slide on a pair of gloves. I pull out the tweezers from my little kit, and start lifting up small pieces here and there. I know the forensics team has already collected all the pictures and evidence they need because they put down their marker. It’s crazy how many people can look over a body and miss fine details each time. We all have our things we specifically look for on these cases, though.

Lifting his jacket up slightly, I notice a small piece of paper sticking out of the corner of his pocket. I pull it out using the tweezers and open it up. Tilting my head a bit, I read the words through the blood soaked paper.

Let’s play a game? Can you find the rat?

My heart begins to race. I’ve seen this before. The note. It’s been on other bodies of cops we found out were dirty. The media actually began calling this guy the Justice Cleaner.

Stupid fucking name in my opinion, but it’s not my choice. They’ve given this man glory for cleaning up the system that we fail to fix. The only thing I know about them is that this person is a man in their early to mid thirties.

Tucking the note into a small evidence baggy, I place it into my forensic bag. It’s not a very big bag, I only use it for my essentials while I’m on a case. I start to look in other various places on his body, finding small little details along the way. Nothing else I find is key evidence, but it’s still evidence nonetheless. I stand up and make my way over to the other body since the forensics team has marked it off as complete. Lifting my hand to a patrol officer, he walks over, putting on a pair of gloves, and helps me roll the woman onto her back after I change my gloves. I grab a clean pair of tweezers and begin to check her pockets. She doesn’t look familiar, and she isn’t as ripped apart as Brian was. It looks like her death was a bit more quick with a bullet hole between her eyes; her dress ripped down the center. Her breasts are fully exposed, but her panties are still sitting high on her hips, indicating there was no sexual foul play. She’ll still be examined for it.

I finish my exam on her, finding nothing more, and stand up. Mike walks in, eyes darting left and right before he makes his way over to me. I roll my eyes and tuck away all the evidence, handing my bag off to the forensics team and signing my name on the forms. “What do we have?” Mike asks, announcing his presence.

I laugh a low chuckle. “Thanks for coming. Glad to know you could be bothered by us today.” I roll my eyes.

“I had that family thing last night and left Austin a bit too late. Sorry, man. I’m trying to do better.” He throws his hands to the side without moving his arms.

I know he’s right, but I still hate the fact that he does this shit every day. “I’ll believe it when you’re actually on time one day. Forty minutes late isn’t much better than two hours late.” I walk past him, heading back to my car. “I’m done here for now. If you want to actually do some work, you can follow me back to the station.”

“Wha-” He cuts himself off, looking around. “You’re already finished up here?” he questions.

“For the moment.” I nod my head, reaching out for my door handle. “I want to figure out a few things first. This case is a bit messy.”

“We live in a small town. How could it be that messy? Did Farmer Joe shoot Betty Mae?” he retorts sarcastically.

My chest heaves. I know we live in a small town, but sometimes things slip right under our noses. We don’t have a small department, but it’s also not very large at the same time. We have enough men working here to hide a few under the radar, though. Brian Phillips, for example.

“Go home, Mike. Maybe it’s better if you just stay there. Or go see your family since they seem to have so many issues without you.” I slip into my car, closing the door, and lock it as I start it and take off down the road. Mike might be my partner, but I’m done trying to cover for him when I know nothing about him.

I speed down the road until I wind up in the parking lot of the precinct. When I don’t see Mike’s car pulling up behind mine, I know he made a choice. I get out of my car and walk inside. It’s time to start putting the pieces of this puzzle back together.