The 3 K's

By William J. Ryan

The 3 K's is a heart wrenching story based on a true double murder in Tampa, Florida and the American Injustice System. Jon is a hardworking man trying to support his family, and live a small portion of the American Dream. He comes home to find his wife and young daughter brutally murdered. After suffering the loss of his family, he is swept up in a life altering frame up that is perpetrated by blind and ruthless detectives in the Florida Justice System. The only thing that keeps him going, is finding justice for his family and exposing the injustice that he had endured.

• Language: English
• Publisher: William J. Ryan
• Release date: May 4, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463105023

William J. Ryan

I am William J. Ryan. I am in my 60’s, an autodidact (self-directed learner) and I am dyslexic. I not only suffer from trouble with letters, numbers and spelling of words changing on me, but structuring of sentences will sometimes be backwards. (Don’t worry; I hire someone to edit these stories before I publish them!) I write for the joy of writing, of getting an idea out there. I write in many different genres, children’s stories, historical fiction, fiction, science fiction, crime, and adventure, all the way to anti-religion. I do research on everything that I write about in order to try to be as factual as I can be. I have self – published 35 books and 22 screenplays! Self - publishing is a great way to start, but it is hard to get the audience’s attention. I am also the illustrator of all the artwork within each of my books and most of the cover art. You won’t find many authors out there that include artwork in their stories. More About Me Born in poverty, by white trash sperm and egg donors, my childhood was one horrific nightmare after another, that I would spend the rest of my life overcoming. Freeing myself from this extremely dysfunctional cluster of lost self-indulgent beings, by cutting off all contact with them, was the best thing I ever did. At an early age I chose not to have children for I was not given the skill to raise them and chose not to pass on the gruesome genetic dysfunctions that I had inherited. Writing personal painful events in one of my fictional characters is second nature and comes far far far too easy. In my early 20s, I discovered my reading and learning disability had a name, Dyslexia and I worked as an adult to overcome letters and numbers changing before my eyes. Later in life, as an older adult, I learned the power of reading and writing and became an Autodidact. This affliction never leaves the afflicted. I am glad to trade the curse of Dyslexia for the skills to invent and create people places and events that I see so clearly in my mind’s eye. Every story, every town, every person is 100% real to me and I see every picture on the wall, the view out the window, the streets and homes of the neighborhoods, making them all real to me and I hope the reader. Artfully crafted acquired skills, from a childhood trying to escape the insanity surrounding this small boy and his young developing mind, where he found himself. i.e. A clear example of a Dyslexic sentence. A short stent (seven years), in the criminal banking industry; where I saw V.P.’s change mortgage interest rates higher on loans, to increase the profits for the bank, cheating the customers. When I refused to participate, I was told, “I needed to think of the Bank First”. My response was “I will never do this.” I also witnessed V.P.’s instruct managers to create duplicate false files (and they did) concealing the crimes of the bank during a government audit, so they would pass. When I could find the courage to walk out, (without notice for they did not earn it) I did and changed my life’s path for the better, still looking for that place in my child’s mind, where people were honest, decent and truthful. All of my life up to this point, I could not face my tormentors, because I was beaten down so badly as a child. I finally found my voice and the inner strength to take the bullies in my life on,,, one at a time. With each confrontation, with each face to face battle, I have grown stronger and developed the skills to beat back the bullies of the world, exposing them for what they truly are. There is no one I will not attack back, fending off their aggression, their bullying of the weakest among us all,,, children,,, has become my single life focal point. At this intolerant unforgiving stage in my life, my understanding of man’s history, is continually being rewritten, removing the light of truth, so I pull further away from people. The worst being the so called God Fearing People, that believe they can do anything to anyone and God will forgive their sins so they can do it again. Every one of them has shown me the black oozing bag that is their soul. There is no helping them, so I stopped trying and recoil from the religious. The evil that all religious people do every day, in their God’s name, (genocide, rape of a child, land grab, slavery) show us all that their god must have horns and a pointy tale. This clear understanding of people and the evil that exist just under the skin, emerges in all my stories. A good writer should not create without understanding, but write what they know. I know this evil all too well and I can write and attest to it!!! Favorite Quotes (some) “Just because you are born in shit, does not mean you must stay there.” The quote is from a female pilot from WWII, instrumental in the development of the WASP, name unknown. “A man’s strength is measured by the strength of his enemies” Sioux These quotes are indeed very powerful. My list is very long and grows with every day. Each day I wait for them to come and kill me,,, the Deceivers that I expose. “Hell is other people” From the book NO EXIT by Jean-Paul Sartre 1944. The things he must have witnessed,,, as the Good German Christians gathered up the Jews (the god killers, Jewish Decide) for the slaughter. Oops did I let that slip? Yes the Nazis were unapologetic-ally Christian,,, Gott Mit Uns (God with us) was worn upon every German Christians soldiers belt as they justified their actions with words of Scrupulosity and its madness. Example; “Our movement is Christian” Adolf Hitler. These Christians are not good people and for me this quote helps prove it. “The waste,,, the waste,,, the waste.” These were the last words of the abdicated King Edward VIII of England. Somehow it seems to sum up the best efforts of man on Earth. “I am ashamed to say I am a member of the human race.” said by Charles Bukowski, August 16th 1920 to March 9th 1994. Words I hear in my mind every day as I see more atrocities of man and his foot print upon this small planet. I carry all of these words with me every day and use them to steer me from the rocky shores of others as I set the heading of my ship away,,, off into the setting sun,,, as I was born,,, alone. Personal Hero’s Ferdinand Waldo Demara Jr.; his skills of camouflages and moving from one life to another, immeasurably helped to guide me and re-invent myself for the better. It is with envy I look to him and his life, for he truly is,,, The Great Impostor. This is but a small window into my soul and reveals but a small part of what has made this man what he is,,, good or bad.

Book preview

The 3 K’s

Written and Illustrated by William J. Ryan

Copyright 2018 William J. Ryan

Published by William J. Ryan at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. This book may not be reproduced in part or in whole without the written permission of the author. You may write to William J. Ryan at Post Office Box 666, Dade City, Florida 33526

If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All information, theories and any philosophies or hypotheses should be verified by the reader from outside sources before one takes action to protect oneself from any of the impending dooms that are predicted to come within this book. All theories and characters in this book (if any) are fictitious and any resemblance to others or actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental unless a true name is used and true quotes are used.

Table of Contents

Introduction

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Epilogue

About William J. Ryan

Other books by William J. Ryan

Connect with William J. Ryan

Introduction

This is a fictional story loosely based on a true multiple murder that took place in the Tampa Bay, Florida area in the 1990’s and I have mixed in other bits from true cases. It was a horrifying event that covered the newspapers in what seemed like an everyday event until the police had their man. We are talking weeks.

The police were most convincing of what news they would let leak out and the news media did the rest to help destroy this accused man’s name and reputation. These two entities had everyone convinced he was guilty as charged. He sat in prison for most of a year until his trial. By then he had lost everything he had spent a life time building.

This story is this one man’s struggle to defend his name and fight for his life. He tries to prove his innocence and bring to light facts and evidence not pursued that could prove someone else did this to his family.

Chapter One

New Home New Life

Our new home

Jon lay on his back staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom. His mind was a whirl of thoughts and he could sleep no more. There was so much to get done and he was on a tight timeline. He sat up in bed and looked over at his Kate. A smile came over his face as he reached over and stroked her red hair, remembering their life together. They were neighbors as kids and grew up together always in love and with big plans for a life together.

A noise down the hall of their small apartment broke his reverie and brought him back to reality. The sound did not bother his dog Buford so he was not too concerned either. He needed to check on their daughter Kaytee who should be asleep in her room down the hall. As he slipped out of bed he was reminded again of the plans that would not let him sleep.

Boxes lined the hallway as light from the street poured in from the front room of this small apartment. Kaytee was fine. Jon heard a car door slam outside and its motor start up. I will really miss hearing every motor, every conversation and every footstep from my neighbors through these paper thin walls, he thought.

04:32 am

He finished dressing, checked on his two K’s before leaving and then he and Buford climbed into his white work truck. There he took inventory: Phone, tools, checklist made last night… I think that’s it. Now I am off to get some coffee.

Along the way, Jon became more excited over the dreams coming true of him and his family moving out of that dismal little apartment. Driving down the street of the new neighborhood, he pulled in front of his brand new home.

In the soft street light and the quiet of this new community, Jon sat drinking his tepid coffee thinking, ‘I miss hot coffee ever since that crazy lawsuit.’ Quietly, he got out of his truck and unlocked the door of his new home. He checked the time and thought he had a few good hours to work on it before he had to go to his office.

The light from the street poured into this living room, but here it didn’t seem as bright as it was at his apartment. As Jon walked into each room he checked his list to ensure each item was done and the only thing remaining was the ceiling fans.

As the sun rose with the birds, Jon could see the sights from each window that he would enjoy for years to come. The master bedroom was last and he took special pleasure in the view of the lake they would have, just as they had dreamed. As he gathered up the last of the ceiling fan boxes, he looked back at where their bed would go and thought of making love with his wife. He wanted more kids and he hoped after the move Kate would be more receptive to the idea.

After the birth of Kaytee, Kate seemed to have less interest in sex and for her it stopped being fun. They had talked about her changing but words seemed to have no effect on her lack of interest.

As Jon stepped out of his house, turning to lock the door, one of his new neighbors waved hello. Jon returned the greeting as he grabbed the four bags of trash tossing, them in his old truck.

Before heading out, he called Kate to remind her that she must meet the building inspector this morning for their final inspection and to get the C.O. (certificate of occupancy), but she did not answer the phone, so he left a message.

When he pulled up to his shop in a small business center in town, Juan, his last remaining crew leader, was there waiting for him. It was 7:35 am. Jon said, Sorry I’m late. Where’s the rest of the crew?

Juan replied, I sent them on ahead to the job to get started and I told them I would be there as soon as I could, with the trailer. Juan hooked up the 20-foot trailer and was off, leaving Jon to deal with the office. There before him lay the mounds of paperwork he had hardly touched in months. His priority had been to work on his house and Kate had not been much help for her time was also spent on the construction. But, he sighed with satisfaction, we should both have more time now.

There were sixteen messages on his answering machine. As he sat down to deal with them, he rubbed his sore shoulder and tried to stretch out his sore back. I could use someone to walk on it, he thought. Just then he heard Buford’s water bowl skid across the floor. It was empty and that was Buford’s way of telling him. He filled the dish and took down notes on the calls. Most were just business as usual, but one was not good.

Mr. Madison, this is Paul Peterson with Alignment Apartments. I just wanted to inform you that this is your notice of termination of our contract. We have another signed offer that undercuts your bid by over 10%. If you can do better please let us know. Thanks for now, see you soon.

It was another winter cancellation. Every year new companies came along with lower bids and would take the gravy. All lawn maintenance business was on a 30-day cancellation policy. That meant, all either party had to do was give 30 days’ notice to cancel the contract. Each year the crooks went around and cut the price because the grass doesn’t grow in the winter so the expenses are lower. Then in summer they raise the price or just cancel.

Most times you just took it as part of the business but that year times were bad and that makes the fifth contract he’d lost that month. Not good. He wondered how he would pay the bills and keep the last crew going unless he joined them in the same game. He had always tried to not play that game but now it looked like he must.

Jon sat pondering the pile of work before him, including last year’s taxes that he had to get to the accountant, when suddenly he felt something wet on his hand. It was Buford with a pull toy he had made out of some old rope. Buford has been chewing on it and was pushing it into his hand. It’s not playtime buddy. I have to get this shit done. Buford dropped the toy and slumped away, making Jon feel like crap. I’m sorry buddy. Ok, let’s play, but for only a minute.

Jon had Buford since he was six months old and he had been a good dog. He was very loyal and the two of them went everywhere together. As Jon played tug of war he remembered to not let him pull too hard for he has a bad back. His teeth are worn down and starting to develop cavities. Buford was turning ten years old but still thought he was a puppy.

11: 46 am

Buford was sound asleep and Jon was just about done with the first part of the taxes, when the phone rang. It was the building inspector telling him his home passed and he could pick up the C.O. any time. The last of the plants are not in, but I know you and your family want to move in so I trust you will take care of that, said the inspector.

Jon thought it odd his wife did not call and tell him. Oh yes, sir. That will be done. You saw we bought them and just didn’t get as far this weekend as we planned, but the house is all finished and ready to move into. Was my wife there to let you in?

Yes sir, I did the walk through with her at 9:30 this morning. Didn’t she call you?

No, but I’ll give her a call now. Jon sat for a moment looking at the phone and checking his cell, turning to Buford, Now why would she not have called me with such good news? Buford’s ears perked up whenever you would ask him anything.

It was lunch time and Jon made some beans and rice in the microwave to save money and to keep working. He sat there waiting for Kate to call with the good news, but there was no call. He had to go to the building department and pick up the C.O. so they could get the power turned on and move in.

Finally, when he could stand it no more, he called her. This time she picked up. Kate, are you OK?

Yes, why wouldn’t I be?

Well you didn’t call me with the good news and I was worried something happened to you.

I’m okay and the building inspector told me he was going to call you and go over some final points. So I started moving things over after I called the power company to have the lights turned on.

They didn’t have that much more to move in order to sleep that night in their new home. Over the next week, they finished moving the last of their things and began settling into their new life.

Chapter Two

The Fight

It was one week later to the day, on Monday morning, that Jon lay staring up at the ceiling of his new home admiring the plaster work he had done. With pride he got up and let Kate sleep. A cold front had come through the day before and the night was spent with the windows open and the cool air tugging at the screen and blinds. Everything smelled so fresh and new. ‘Life is good and I am so very lucky,’ thought Jon.

He walked downstairs and made some coffee in their brand new pot. Their sparse furnishings barely filled the rooms and Jon thought how they wanted new things, but he and Kate knew this was not the time. They had spent a lot of money to get the house done and they needed time to recover.

It was then he saw Kate coming slowly downstairs. The open stairway could be seen from the kitchen and Jon noticed how slowly she was moving. Her bare feet gently touched each step as though she were sneaking up on something. As she got to the bottom he could first see her golden tanned legs and then her white jean shorts and a short white top. Her soft hair reached the center of her back and she looked good. Jon smiled up at her saying, Good morning. I made coffee.

No thanks, I may have some later. You didn’t say anything about the new sheets.

What new sheets? replied Jon.

If you don’t like them I can take them back.

Hon, I don’t know what you’re talking about. You know I don’t care about things like that anyway.

I could tell you didn’t like them. You should have told me. Is it the color? Because I can take them back you know.

No that’s okay. I really don’t care.

Yes you do. You’re mad and I can tell.

No, I certainly am not mad and I don’t care.

"You are too. I