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    On The Line: The Final Chapter
    On The Line: The Final Chapter
    On The Line: The Final Chapter
    Ebook247 pages3 hours

    On The Line: The Final Chapter

    By GiAnna Moratelli

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    About this ebook

    Lieutenant Joe Novelli's been shot. The only clue his team has is the name of a woman named Shirley. But who is Shirley? With no prints on the stolen car that was used in the drive by shooting and no weapon, things are looking bleak in solving the case. Luckily for them a news team was on the scene when the shooting occurred. But when an apartment fire results in the death of two people, and that same news team is there to record the breaking news as the fire truck arrives there may be more to it than luck.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGiAnna Moratelli
    Release dateJun 20, 2017
    ISBN9781370055999
    On The Line: The Final Chapter
    Author

    GiAnna Moratelli

    Born in El Paso, Texas, I grew up in Iowa and was lucky enough to have parents that that had money to travel, a truck and 45' fifth wheel, and liked to travel. I've been in almost all of the fifty states, from the east coast to the west and have visited small bits of Canada and Mexico. As a major in history, I've visited the battlefield of the Little Big Horn; on three different occasions, Gettysburg Battlefield, and the Battle of Athens (which most have never visited, it sits on the border of Iowa and Missouri). I've been to as big a places as the Smithsonian Institute and small places as the grave of Chief Wapello located in Agency, Iowa and The Grotto of the Redemption in northern Iowa, which is well worth anyone's time, especially if you like rocks and history. I grew up, as ole horsemen say, on the back of a horse. I started riding by myself when I was three and when I was sixteen I started working at the tracks of Standardbred racing barns during the summers when we weren't travelling. After graduating high school I bought a couple of race horse; a six month old dark bay filly named J.C's "Blitz" DeVane and a little later a yearling sorrel colt named "Breezy" Judge, which I trained and raced myself, only needing to acquire a fair license to do so, compared to those who had pari-mutual license. My horse racing came to an abrupt end a few years later with a barn fire, in which none of the 12 head of horses died, The horse I'm pictured with is Breezy, the best horse I ever owned (and I've owned a lot of horses of different breeds) and passed from this earth when he was 25 years old. I went to college, attended R.O.T.C.; went to Fort Knox, Kentucky for basic training and earned a B.A. in history. My interest lying mostly in American history. Other than the above, many other experiences in life, and living in different places, have given me good resources for my writing: 1. Staying with my grandparents on their farm when I was very young is where I learned to ride and gave me knowledge of farming, which I later helped a farmer near where I grew up. 2. I work for my father; who is a Certified Public Accountant, doing taxes and bookkeeping. I started working for him when I was in middle school, and after health problems in our family, have come back to help him as of 2019. 3. I managed my dad's used car lot in Fairfield, Iowa. 4. I drove a semi with a 52' trailer over the road for 13 years. 5. I worked real estate and did real estate appraisal as a second job to OTR. 6. I've done construction work (helping my dad and brother put up my dad's office building from the ground up, plus many other projects for my dad, many which included pouring concrete every Fourth of July for more years than I care to think about. 7. I worked for a local manufacture making cabinets 8. While in college I cleaned at a hotel to pay my way through the first two years. 9. After college, while driving OTR (after the RE job) I sub-taught for two years. 10. I worked security for four years. 11. I do know how to cook, make garden and can food. That's my life wrapped up in a peanut shell. I decided to write fiction under my pen name and non-fiction under my real name Linda Scott. Just a good idea I thought to keep the two of them seperate.

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      Book preview

      On The Line - GiAnna Moratelli

      On The Line: The Final Chapter

      Joe Novelli 21

      By

      GiAnna Moratelli

      COPYRIGHT 2017

      GiAnna Moratelli

      SMASHWORDS EDITION

      This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Chapter One

      Lieutenant Joe Novelli flipped open his notepad. He raised the dark sunglasses that shielded his dark brown eyes from the glaring sun and looked at the address he’d jotted down just yesterday evening, before leaving work. Lowering the sunglasses, he compared it with the number on the house across the street from where he was standing and closed it. It was the correct address, but it wasn’t what he expected. Joe looked at a brick, three-story old school house that set back from the curb where he’d parked. The school was boarded up. A high eight-foot chain link fence around the property had a warning sign on it; Private Property. Keep Out. Trespassers will be prosecuted. By the looks of it, the school hadn’t been used for years.

      Joe looked at his watch. He was supposed to meet an informant, who had only given him the name, Shirley, here at ten o’clock, so where was she? His eyes scanned the outside of the school building. He ran his fingers back through his thick, dark, brown hair. Four cars were parked along the curb, but no one was sitting in any of them. ‘Probably visiting someone living in one of the small, 1940’s style houses across the street’. Looking behind him, he saw a local television news van parked at the end of the parking lot of the middle school, near the street which bent to the north, a city park setting straight ahead. He didn’t like it. ‘It smelled of a rat.’

      Joe rubbed his dark brown mustache and goatee then slipped the notebook into the pocket of his black sports jacket, next to his cell phone. Obviously, this Shirley was a no-show. He turned and started walking to his car. As he stepped from the grassy curb in front of the car parked behind his white Crown Victoria, a speeding, red, four-door car caught him out the corner of his eye. Gun shots rang out. Joe dropped to the ground and moved behind the back tire of his car. His arm and side ached. As he unsnapped his .45 Kimber from its holster, he noticed blood on his arm and the side of his shirt.

      Fucking setup! Joe sputtered. He took his phone from the pocket of his jacket and pushed a button.

      Officer Adam Henderson, Springfield Police Department, a voice answered.

      Henderson, Novelli. I’ve been shot!

      You what? Where are you, Lieutenant?

      Five- thirty-three Elm. In front of the old school.

      Joe could hear Henderson’s voice in the back ground sending police units, with the code double zero, to his location. Units are being dispatched, Lieutenant. Stay with me, Novelli.

      Joe frowned. They’re coming back, he announced, as the red car came roaring back down the street. He shoved the phone into his pocket. Thirty feet from where he was hiding the car slowed. Who the fuck? he said lowly. He swallowed as the car stopped. ‘Were they coming to finish him off? If so, why? Who the hell were they? If that was their plan one of the son-of-a-bitches were going down with him.’ He raised his gun in the direction he thought they would be coming and pulled back the hammer as he tried to look around the corner of the car without being seen to hopefully get a look at the guy. But from the position that he was lying he couldn’t see the shooter without being seen.

      As the sound of a police siren approached, the car’s tires squalled on the pavement and the car tore down the street and disappeared around the bend. The sweet sound of a police cruiser’s siren came around the corner from Jackson Street, at the other end of the street. Joe took a deep breath and lowered his pistol. He looked at blood on his gun hand as he carefully released the hammer then holstered the .45. As the cruiser pulled up, the news van that had been parked down the street in the school parking lot pulled up.

      Lieutenant!

      Joe recognized the voice of, K-9 Officer Lee Throckmorton.

      Unit Three-Fifteen! Lee stated into the shoulder mic of his radio. I need an ambulance five, thirty-three Elm. That’s five-thirty-three Elm! You’re gonna be fine, Lieutenant. He looked at the blood on Joe’s shirt then reached over and ripped it open. The material didn’t stand a chance against the muscled arms of the young stout man that liked to brag of his Irish roots. How are ya doin’, Lieutenant.

      I’m okay, Joe assured him.

      What do ya got, Lee? a second officer asked, as he ran up.

      Joe looked up at Officer Caden Price. He hadn’t heard the second cruiser pull up.

      I need a first aid kit, the lieutenant’s been hit a couple of places, Throckmorton replied. He turned and looked at a fair haired newsman with a camera and a dark red-headed woman, wearing a lot of makeup, holding a microphone. Get the fuck out of here! This is a crime scene!

      I’m Leslie Bennett with the local news. Is he okay? the news woman asked.

      I don’t care who you are. Get the fuck out of here! Throckmorton stood. He stepped across Joe, walked toward them and pushed them back. This is a crime scene! You’re not allowed in this area! He looked at Price, who had just walked up. Get these ass-holes out of here!

      Ass-holes! Bennett exclaimed. Is that how you refer to the local news?

      You have to get back, Price stated. He stepped between them and Throckmorton, handing the K-9 officer the first-aid kit. I’ve got it, Lee.

      Throckmorton turned his back to the press and returned to Joe. He knelt beside him and opened the first-aid kit. Fucking press, he said lowly. They’re always in the way. I don’t know how the hell they got here so fast.

      They were parked at the end of the block, Joe replied. I’m not that bad, Lee. He looked at the blood on his hand, where he’d been applying pressure, as Throckmorton put a bandage from the first aid kit on his side.

      Yeah well, you’re not that good, Lieutenant.

      Joe nodded. He knew very well that it could have been a lot worse, especially if he wouldn’t have seen them when he did. You’re right. It could be worse.

      Apply pressure on this and don’t argue with me. Throckmorton looked up as another cruiser pulled up.

      Officer Anjulia Barlow jumped out of her car and hurried up to where Joe was lying. Ambulance is coming, she announced. Did you get a look at who it was, Lieutenant?

      Joe looked up at Officer. No, Barlow I didn’t.

      What about the car he was driving? Barlow asked, as Detective Richard Mason hurried up.

      Rich Mason, his bright blue eyes flashing, looked at his partner lying in front of him. My god, Joe! What the hell happened?

      I’ve been shot.

      I know that, but -.

      I’ll be okay, Rich, Joe assured him. Couple of guys decided they’d enjoy a drive by shooting.

      Did you get a look at them?

      He said he didn’t, Barlow stated.

      Throckmorton looked at her. Go park your car across the street to block it off. Barlow looked at him. Now, he ordered.

      Barlow frowned, but turned and left.

      Sorry about that, Lieutenant, Throckmorton stated.

      Joe shrugged. She’s just concerned. Not every day we have a cop shot.

      Thank God, Throckmorton replied.

      So you didn’t see who shot you? Rich asked.

      I wish. I know there were two. The shooter, I’m pretty sure he was in the passenger seat.

      Hey, Lee, another officer walked up. Need anything?

      What about the car they were driving? Rich asked, as he took his notebook from his pocket.

      Red car. A Camry. I’m pretty sure it was a Camry, Joe replied, as he watched Throckmorton add another bandage to the first one, which had soaked up the blood he was losing. It was a four door. I didn’t get a real good look, but I’m pretty sure it was a Camry. He motioned toward the news van. They ought to have seen it; they’ve been parked in the school parking lot since I got here.

      Rich nodded and ran his hand over the top of his full head of black hair as he slightly turned to look at the news van.

      Throckmorton looked at Tonce Emery. Help Price and Barlow, tape off this street! We’re looking shell casings, he stated.

      Rich brushed his black bangs out of his bright blue eyes as he looked away from Joe, looking up the street at the officers who were blocking it from traffic. When did the media van get here?

      They were around when I got here, Joe replied. Parked at the end of the school parking lot. ‘It seemed that he was answering the same question a lot, but he knew that’s the way it always was. Everyone asking the same questions, wanting to know where to start looking.’

      Rich nodded. What were you doing in this area?

      Working on a case.

      The Bowman Case?

      Joe nodded. ‘What was taking the ambulance so long?’ Yeah.

      Think this shooting has anything to do with it.

      Joe laid his head on the ground and closed his eyes. The pain was scrutinizing.

      Better wait till the medics get here, Mason, Throckmorton stated, as the sound of a siren grew closer.

      I need to get all the information I can in case -.

      I’m fine, aren’t I, Lee, Joe spoke up.

      No you’re not, Lieutenant. Throckmorton motioned down the street, Ambulance is here.

      ‘It was about time.’

      Joe, do you know if this is connected to the Bowman Case you’ve been working on? Rich asked.

      I don’t know, Rich. I have no -.

      Give us room, a medic from the ambulance ordered, as he came between the cars, pushing his way through the officers standing around Joe.

      Throckmorton and Rich walked out to the street, standing next to Throckmorton’s K-9 cruiser which blocked the street, to give the medics room. Throckmorton turned to Rich. You want me to call his wife or better yet, go get her?

      Rich shook his head, No. I’ll call the sheriff’s office and have them get a hold of Zane. He can bring her to the hospital.

      I know he and Joe are friends, but don’t you think someone from the P.D., where he works, ought to be the one to tell her instead of a sheriff’s deputy?

      Rich slightly shook his head as he tried to see around Throckmorton to see what the medics where doing. Zane knows Constance better than we do. I’m sure, Joe rather have him tell her and bring her in than one of us.

      Don’t think he trust any of us with his wife, huh?

      Lee! Rich swallowed and put his hand on Throckmorton’s shoulder. The K-9 in the car began barking frantically. Let me take care of it.

      Throckmorton nodded. Whatever you say, Rich.

      Rich looked at the barking dog in the car. Rizzle’s having a melt-down.

      That’s because you put your hand on me. Throckmorton pointed at the dog in the car and the German Shepherd became silent immediately. How long you been on your own?

      I’m not really. This is only my third month as detective. I’ve been working exclusively with Novelli, but we’ve got so busy Joe decided to give me that murder we had a few days ago in the park.

      I thought that was a rape, not a homicide.

      It is, but like I said, we’ve been busy.

      I think this one’s more in your ball park than rape, Throckmorton stated. So what do you want us to do to help?

      You’re right, it is. Let’s get some officers together and comb the area, see if we can find any ammo in the street or anyone who saw something, Rich stated. He watched as the ambulance pulled away.

      That news crew surely saw something, Throckmorton stated. That broad was here almost faster than me. They had to see something.

      Rich nodded. I’ll talk to them.

      I’ll look around here for brass and get my officers talking to the neighbors than I’m headed down the street.

      Rich looked at him questioningly.

      Throckmorton motioned down the street. There’s a school at the end of the block, it might have a camera that picked up that red car they were driving.

      Rich nodded and turned away from him. He walked down the street to where the news van was sitting behind yellow crime scene tape.

      Well if it isn’t, Officer Mason, Leslie Bennett greeted, as Rich walked up to where she standing in front of the van, her cameraman standing off to the side looking through the lens of his camera.

      That’s, Detective Mason, Ms. Bennett.

      That’s right you got a promotion a few months ago, didn’t ya. Sorry. I forgot.

      So what did you see?

      Leslie Bennett shrugged. We didn’t see anything.

      Sure about that? Rich asked. He looked at the cameraman, who was still filming, the camera pointed at him. He put his hand up to block the lens as he’d seen Novelli do when he didn’t want them filming him. He waited until the cameraman put the camera down. So you didn’t see anything, or better yet, get anything on film?

      Why would we have? Bennett asked.

      Officer Throckmorton said you were there about the same time he was. That you’ve been sitting here most of the morning.

      He said that huh?

      Rich nodded. What are you doing here?

      Bennett crossed her arms in front of her. We were just finishing up a story we were doing about the school parking lot, and we’d just came out to the van when we heard shots. We didn’t see much of anything. Anyway, nothing important that we know of, Bennett replied. But if we find out anything different, we’ll let you know.

      Rich looked at the camera man. What’s your name?

      Lance Kellogg, Sir, he answered.

      Did you see anything, Lance?

      Kellogg glanced down then shook his head. Not really.

      Rich nodded. Sure about that?

      We wouldn’t lie to our local police, do you think? Bennett asked.

      I would hope not.

      Is your officer going to be okay? Kellogg asked.

      Rich shrugged. Time will tell.

      How are you doing, Lieutenant? one of the medic’s, a large black man, sitting beside Joe asked.

      I’m getting too old for this shit, Joe replied.

      Fifty-three, twenty-three, I don’t think anyone’s too young for getting shot.

      Joe swallowed and closed his eyes; he didn’t want to think about it. I’m not fifty-three, I’m fifty-five.

      You’re in good shape for a fifty-five year old man. Since you’re a cop, how many times have you been shot, Lieutenant?

      Joe looked at him without moving his head. ‘Really? Just because he was a cop did that mean he’d been shot before?’ Three, he said lowly.

      That’s about three too many. You’re staying with us aren’t you?

      Yeah. I need to call someone.

      This isn’t the police department, where you get one call. You can do that later after -.

      I have to call him now! I want him to be the one to tell my wife.

      The medic nodded, Sure, Lieutenant. You’re phone; it’s in your pocket?

      Jacket. Joe watched as the medic hunted through his jacket pocket and found his phone.

      Whose number do you want me to find for you?

      Zane. Deputy, Tom Zane.

      The medic looked at Joe’s phone. You have them in a nice order Lieutenant. Last name first. I ought to do that with mine, he said, as he scrolled through the names until he found the name Zane. He pushed the call button.

      Hey, Joe what’s up? Tom asked, his voice coming through loudly.

      This is medic, Ali Ross. Hold on a second, Deputy I got someone here who wants to talk to ya. He held the phone to Joe’s ear. I got him on here for ya, Lieutenant.

      Tom. You have to go get Constance.

      Annie? What’s happened? You okay, Joe? Tom asked.

      I been shot, Joe replied lowly.

      Ali Ross took the phone. This is, Ali again, Deputy. We’re almost to Memorial Medical Hospital, so you know where we’re going… Yeah, he has been… I can’t comment about that. I’m not a doctor and it’s against the rules. That’s all I can tell ya, Deputy… I’ll tell him. He put the phone in Joe’s jacket pocket. He said to tell ya he’s on his way.

      Joe nodded. He didn’t like Constance getting the news this way, but it was better for her to get it from a friend than from someone she had only heard him talk about.

      The ambulance stopped in the emergency lane of the hospital under the canopy. As the nurses and doctors ran up to it the doors swung open. I have the bleeding under control, Ali stated. He’s lost quite a little, but he’s talking.

      The news van pulled up, Leslie Bennett driving and Lance Kellogg filming it. Joe could see them between the nurses

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