Ignite

By Wiliam Marion

Rick Micado left South Carolina three years ago and has made a new life for himself in Pennsylvania. No longer does he act on the cartels bidding. No longer does he kill for personal and business gain. In his Pennsylvania life, he has new friends, a new job, and a new conscience. He never looks back, and he doesnt miss a thing about South Carolinanothing but Ms. Emily Marsh.

When Rick learns that Emilys father has burned to death in his own home, he knows this was no accident. This is the cartels way of saying they havent forgotten. They want Rick back, and theyll stop at nothing to pull him from the shadows. Ricks love for Emily draws him into the open. He cant hide anymore, not when the woman he loves is in peril.

He returns to South Carolina and soon realizes how easy it can be to slip into the familiar shoes of a killer. Ricks prime target is Tony Abrau, but Tony is only the beginning. The cartel wants to send a message, but so does Rick. He is not a man to be trifled with; threatening the woman he loves will earn the cartel nothing but pain; and once a killer, always a killer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Abbott Press
• Release date: Feb 7, 2013
• ISBN: 9781458207982

Wiliam Marion

William Marion attended prep school in Massachusetts, graduated from college, and later earned a master’s degree. He served in the US Coast Guard before entering a career in pharmaceutical sales. The author of six previous books, he is now retired and lives in South Carolina.

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Copyright © 2013 William Marion.

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ISBN: 978-1-4582-0800-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4582-0799-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4582-0798-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013901067

Abbott Press rev. date: 1/28/2013

Contents

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

To My Brother Terry

You stormed the castle without armor!

Ignite: To heat intensely, to set on fire:

All characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

The author is grateful for the cover picture by Tim Blaum and the cover design by Ms. Brittney Huffman.

Chapter 1

THE NIGHT WAS DARK AND QUIET. IT seemed like only the Deep South could produce such a constant string of muggy, humid weather. There was no breeze to at least offer some relief and that just added to Detective Kevin Riley’s discomfort. The bulletproof vest he had on was heavy and cumbersome. He hated to wear it but it was mandatory in a crisis situation like this. Still, he wanted to take it off. Riley was not much for following standard police procedure but in this case he really had no choice.

Don’t even think about it, his partner and friend said. Detective Walter Murphy looked at him and shook his head. You’re unbelievable, you know that? he asked knowing full well what Riley was thinking. He could tell by the way his partner kept fidgeting with the black protective vest that he wanted to take it off.

Oh yeah, like you don’t mind wearing it, Riley said with sarcasm. They were known as the Irish Duo within the Columbia Police Department. They had been partners for so long that they could communicate without even speaking. Riley was always amazed at Murphy’s ability to read his mind.

Riley looked up the street and could see two uniformed police officers’ putting saw horses in place to stop any traffic from traveling down past their location. The other end of Lavington Court was blocked off by a black and white. There were probably ten or more police officers on the scene. Riley had a feeling deep down inside that the outcome was going to be bad. The SWAT team had arrived early and taken their tactical positions around the building. The two story duplex apartment building was made of tired red brick that under normal circumstances would merit but a passing glance. Not so this early morning, the duplex was under siege.

Negotiations were under way and it looked like everything was going to end peaceably. Still, Riley had a bad feeling. Detective Kevin Riley was fifty-five years old and he felt the weight of all those years. The one sure thing that getting old gives you is perspective. Life’s lessons are imprinted on you, whether you like it or not. That’s why he had a bad feeling about the tense situation he was now part of. Like a lot of police confrontations, this one came out of the blue. There was really no rhyme or reason to it. He tried to piece it together in his mind.

The newspaper carrier’s name was Jimmy Twilly. He was delivering The State newspaper to customers on his route when he noticed a car following him. It was three forty-five in the morning and the streets were dark and deserted. There were occasional cars moving about but they were few and far between. The Shandon neighborhood of Columbia was located adjacent to the University of South Carolina and just north of the downtown business district. It was a trendy area with a mix of large and small homes. There was plenty of off- campus housing in the area and many students resided there. Business professionals as well as retired people called Shandon their home.

Twilly got annoyed at the car following him, so he stopped his car abruptly in the middle of the street. He got out and walked up to the driver’s side window of the mystery car. He did not want a confrontation but, by this time, he was pissed off. He wanted to know what this was all about. He could see a young man in his mid-twenties sitting behind the wheel of the Ford Explorer. The stranger was smoking a cigarette and just watching Jimmy approach his car. His driver’s side window was down. In the still night the smoke from his cigarette just wafted above the car. The man had a blank expression on his face.

What the fuck are you doing, asshole? If you don’t stop following me I’m going to fuck you up! Twilly said in anger. He looked at the man in the car but there was no reaction from him. Hey, shit-for-brains, I’m talking to you. Still there was silence from the man in the SUV. Twilly stared at the stranger but the man just seemed spaced out. Twilly turned around and walked back to his car. He didn’t need this.

Jimmy Twilly was forty years old and recently released from prison. He had served a five year stretch for receiving stolen property. It was a stupid offence and he vowed he would never get in trouble again. He had a checkered past with one run in with police followed by another. They were small offenses that turned into big problems for him. Prison was a different story. He made a promise to his wife and his extended family that his criminal activity was behind him. He meant it. Now this, just what he didn’t need in his life. The State Media Company had taken a chance on hiring him and he didn’t want to blow this one opportunity. It was hard enough finding the position. He needed the work as well as the income.

Jimmy drove on delivering the newspapers. He kept looking in his rear view mirror and now started to get worried. The nut case in the Ford Explorer kept following him. The message he had delivered to the young man with the spaced out look didn’t take. He picked up his cell phone and dialed 911. He told the emergency operator that he was being followed. He gave the operator his location and was told that a police car would be on the scene shortly. He continued down the street and in a few minutes a black and white pulled up alongside his car. The Ford was gone.

He explained what had taken place and the responding police officer said she would drive around and look for the car. Jimmy went about his business and was glad he was almost done. As he pulled over to one of his final stops he could see the mystery car once again. It was right behind him with its high beams on this time. Enough was enough. If prison taught Twilly anything, it was the fact that you had to confront your tormentor. Jimmy again walked up to the car but this time the driver drove off. Jimmy got the plate number. He called it in to 911.

That’s what started this whole scenario, a confrontation between a newspaper delivery person and the stranger following him. It didn’t make any sense, these things seldom do. Riley turned from his partner and used his handkerchief to muffle the sound of his gag. He looked at the dark spot on the white linen and knew it was blood. Even in the semi-darkness of the night a deep shade of red was apparent. He quickly looked over at Murphy. His partner was busy speaking with another officer. How much longer could he keep his condition a secret?

Chapter 2

WE JUST GOT WORD THAT THE SUSPECT is about to give himself up. It looks like the father has talked some sense into his son, Murphy said to Riley. The young man’s name was Kitchner, Stephen Kitchner. He was twenty-five years old and a college drop-out. The duplex was owned by his father, William Kitchner. The talks between the Columbia Police and Stephen Kitchner had been going on for about an hour. William Kitchner arrived a half hour ago and took an active role in the attempt to get his son to surrender.

Murphy was listening to the ongoing police chatter via a headset. He relayed to Riley what was taking place. It looks like the suspect will be coming out the front door. He is about to surrender, Murphy said in a low voice. The whole scene was tense and the stress was noticeable on the faces of the police.

Riley thought to himself, it looks like I was wrong about this one.

Portable lights were turned on to illuminate the front door. The brick duplex housed four apartments, two on the first floor, and two on the second. Stephen Kitchner was hold-up in the first floor unit, to the right of the black wooden front door. All was quiet once more. There was no real way to tell what was going to happen. Stephen Kitchner was very unpredictable.

Once Jimmy Twilly phoned in the license tag of the person following him, a responding unit went to the address registered to the owner, Steven Kitchner. That address was a duplex on Lavington Court. Officer Donna Evans and her partner, John McDonald, were the officers who previously spoke with Twilly. They parked out front and phoned in their location. The duplex was dark as they walked up the brick path to the front door. The door suddenly opened. A shot rang out and Evans was hit in the chest. The force of the blow knocked her back and to the ground. Evans had just graduated from the police academy and this was her fifth day on active patrol. McDonald drew his weapon and quickly rushed to his partner’s side. The door closed as suddenly as it opened. McDonald helped Evans back to the rear of the police car and radioed in for assistance. The direct hit from the shooter should have killed Evans. The bulletproof vest she was wearing saved her life.

In short order the building was surrounded and the SWAT team arrived. A line of communication was set up between Kitchner and the police. The negotiations were ongoing and now were coming to a close. Just then, the side door to the apartment on the left opened taking everyone by surprise. Stephen Kitchner stepped out and he was holding an AK-47 assault rifle. He started firing at the police in front of the building. The SWAT team returned fire and Kitchner was hit a number of times. He jerked backwards and part of the right side of his head disappeared in a mist of red. He fell to the ground dead. The siege was over; the shootout lasted less than five seconds.

Riley and Murphy walked to the side of the duplex and joined the other officers. They were all looking at the dead body of Stephen Kitchner. It wasn’t a pretty sight. The impact of the bullets took a heavy toll on the young man. There was massive blood loss, a great deal of soft tissue damage, and a large portion of his head was missing. Riley thought to himself that no matter how many bullet-riddled bodies you see, the sight is always mesmerizing. Kitchner’s was no different. As they were all looking at his body, a loud commotion began to take place behind them. Riley and the others turned to see what was going on.

William Kitchner was screaming. You killed him, you killed him!’ The sound of his voice was frightening. There was anger and agony joined together. He was being restrained by the police but he was fighting to get to his son. There was no way he would be allowed to see the devastating impact of the firefight. He started to wail and was ushered to a waiting police car. The sounds of his agony could be heard above everything else.

Riley looked at his partner and they both shook their heads. The cell phone in Riley’s pocket started to vibrate. He took it out and could see the digital message. Take your medication, now! It read. The text message was from Marion Road. Riley thought to himself, Sweet, tattooed, Marion Road. How I love that woman. Murphy had no clue he was involved with her.

As the on call detectives for this shift, the investigation and paper work fell to the Irish Duo. All the events leading up to the incident and what followed in the aftermath would be their responsibility. SLED (State Law Enforcement Division) would work up the shooting incident report but everything else was their bailiwick.

One of the SWAT team members came up to them and said it was OK to enter the residence. The two apartments upstairs were empty at the time and the tenants on the ground floor were ushered to the rear of the house. They lived in the apartment next to Kitchner’s. It was their side door that Kitchner had exited from and taken everyone by surprise. How was that possible? Riley thought.

Riley entered the side door first followed by Murphy. The apartment was occupied by Sue and Dave Gaddy; they were students at the University of South Carolina. The place was a mess and it appeared that the Gaddys lived like pigs. There was trash on the floor and the place had a strong scent of spoiled food and marijuana. Riley walked through the door and down the hall. The first room he came to was a bedroom. As he looked into that room he could see a hole in the far wall large enough for a person to pass through. It led into the adjacent apartment. That’s how Kitchner went from one unit to the other. Just one big, happy, doped up family, Riley thought.

The makeshift doorway led into Kitchner’s bedroom. Riley could see two emergency technicians working on someone in the bathroom located next to the far wall of the bedroom. There was a young woman in the bathtub and she appeared unconscious. The EMTs were making an effort to revive her. She was not responding. They were going to transfer her to Columbia City Hospital. An officer rushed into the room and informed the detectives that Kitchner had turned