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Night Shift: The Night Trilogy, #1
Night Shift: The Night Trilogy, #1
Night Shift: The Night Trilogy, #1
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Night Shift: The Night Trilogy, #1

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In New Angeles, crime is a fact of life in the city. But when a routine murder investigation leads to more questions than answers, homicide detective Harold Jacobson finds himself unraveling a conspiracy. As pieces of the puzzle start to come together, the big picture is revealed to be more than he ever bargained for. The only thing Harold knows for sure is that he isn't being paid enough to deal with this.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherB.K. Bass
Release dateMay 25, 2021
ISBN9798201296902
Night Shift: The Night Trilogy, #1

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    Night Shift - B.K. Bass

    COPYRIGHT © 2021, 2018 BY B.K. BASS

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

    Second Edition, 2021

    Published by B.K. Bass in the United States of America

    First published by Kyanite Publishing, 2018

    Cover art licensed from Dreamstime.com

    Interior art used under Creative Commons license

    B.K. Bass can be reached at https://bkbass.com/contact/

    For behind-the-scenes access and the latest news, subscribe to B.K.’s newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/dpaU6f

    Visit the author’s website at https://bkbass.com

    Books by B.K. Bass

    The Ravencrest Chronicles

    Seahaven

    The Hunter’s Apprentice

    The Giant and the Fishes

    Tales from the Lusty Mermaid, a Ravencrest Chronicles Anthology

    The Ravencrest Chronicles: Omnibus One

    Curse of the Pirate King (The Pirate King Duology: Book One)

    Shadow of the Pirate King (The Pirate King Duology: Book Two)

    The Night Trilogy

    Night Shift

    Night Life

    Night Shadow

    The Tales of Durgan Stoutheart

    Warriors of Understone

    Companions of the Stone Road (forthcoming)

    The Burning Sands

    Blood of the Desert

    Into the Red Wastes (forthcoming)

    Beyond the Veil

    Parting the Veil

    Standalone Novels

    What Once Was Home

    Chapter One

    The rain came down in waves so heavy the wipers on the car could barely keep up. The headlights cut through the darkness as the flashing blue lights warned pedestrians to clear the road. Despite both this and the wail of a siren, humanity choked the avenue. I lit a cigarette and cracked the window, immediately regretting the latter. The smell of so many bodies pressed into a small space was overwhelming, despite the constant rain. Shouts, curses, and impolite propositions wafted through the air like the smoke coiling inside the car. Frank grunted and cracked his own window. He wasn’t a smoker. But I was driving, so he had little choice in the matter. He could always get out and walk, but he knew the crowd would tear him to pieces. There’s only one thing the dregs of New Angeles liked more than killing a cop, and that’s putting the body out on display.

    I’d heard of better days, back before the big quake had slid most of the California coastline off into the Pacific. New Angeles was built on the remains of the devastation and boomed in the aftermath. I didn’t know why that was. I was born here and never got out. I couldn’t see any reason for anybody to come here, but come they had. Maybe it was the chance to build a new life. Or maybe there was just cheap real-estate. Either way, the city became so overpopulated you could barely spit without hitting somebody. Jobs were harder to find, so dealing with rampant crime became another part of running the city. Most jobs in New Angeles involved serving processed food or providing processed entertainment. There was no major industry other than the self-sustaining beast of the city itself.

    And the most important part of sustaining the beast was diversion. The Romans had figured that out a long time ago. Keep the mob entertained, and it will distract the people from how horrible their lives are. The same was true in New Angeles.

    As the car glided down the street, neon signs slid by like temptations in a Greek myth. Booze, drugs, music, and sex were all part of the industry. Glaring neon in every color imaginable advertised pleasures of the flesh. The dregs lined up before these signs, their faces glowing with the promise of distraction as they looked up at those garish monuments of decadence.

    Cattle lined up to feed, Frank said.

    I nodded, taking a deep draw on the cigarette. The flashing blues strobed through the crowd and accentuated the neon glow of the street. We could have gotten there faster walking, but I enjoyed breathing too much to take the chance. Finally, we could see other blue lights flashing ahead, and we knew we were close to our destination.

    Frank grabbed the radio from the dash and called in, Patrol units in sight at 58th and Corvus, unit five on scene.

    Garbled static replied, the voice of Martha in dispatch barely creaking through the interference to acknowledge our report.

    Ready? Frank asked.

    Are you?

    Nope, he said as he drew his sidearm and exited the car.

    I got out behind him; my weapon still holstered. There was a crowd around the crime scene, but there were also half a dozen beat cops and an enforcement bot bristling with guns keeping them in check. Frank lived his life somewhere between caution and paranoia. It wasn’t a healthy way to live, but it was prudent given our line of work.

    You should be more cautious, he said.

    And you should relax. I tossed the cigarette butt into the gutter. It floated in the rushing rainwater like an old steamer setting out to sea, then just as quickly slid into a storm drain with all the assorted refuse being washed from the city.

    Frank turned in a slow circle, watching the crowd behind us. The EnBot must have picked up a vibe from him, because it turned a head covered with eerie, glowing red sensors in our direction. Two enormous arms swayed over the heads of the officers, the barrels of its heavy guns reflecting rainbow colors from the signs lining the street.

    Put it away, Frank. I think we’re covered, I said as I pulled the edges of my coat tighter

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