Through the Hand Glass

By chad e gunter

When a police detective is injured in the line of duty, he finds that the department will no longer allow him to do his regular job due to his injury. He chooses to end his police career and start one as a private investigator. Shortly after his new career is launched, a series of unfortunate events necessitate

• Language: English
• Publisher: Acrasia Media LLC
• Release date: May 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781958202029

Book preview

1

Chapter 1: Connor Has a Blast

The shotgun blast was deafeningly loud. The pellets tore through the cheap, wooden door of the aged motel, as if it weren’t even there, adding a spray of wood fragments and splinters into the mix of the tiny lead meteorites that were already punching their way into Detective Gellar’s atmosphere. Fortunately, the assailant had been aiming low, and Connor received the brunt of the wood and buckshot mixture in his left leg, instead of the face or any vital organs. Connor’s quick move to retreat, coupled with the force of the impact, left him sprawling on his back. In the short span of seconds, Connor had already had his hand inside of his dress jacket to retrieve his service pistol from his shoulder holster. Before he had even got his hand on the butt of his gun, the shabby, tattered door flew open, and a large, rough-looking man wearing grease-stained bluejeans, a matching bluejean vest, and black boots stepped through onto the breezeway. As he was walking, he operated the slide action on the pump shotgun, chambering the next round. He began ranting some expletives, as he lowered the gun and placed the end of the barrel against Connor’s forehead. Connor did not continue reaching for his pistol, but remained motionless. Say goodbye, pig! exclaimed the assailant.

Hey! yelled a voice from further down the breezeway. The man with the shotgun twisted quickly, and began leveling the weapon in the direction of the interceding voice. Goodbye, pig! yelled the distant voice as he fired a volley of rounds at the assailant. Detective Bryson was an excellent shot. He was well known in the department as The Man that Never Missed. Although his stint in the military had not been long, while he was there, he had earned multiple medals and awards for his sniper abilities. Each of his multiple rounds found the assailant’s torso, and the man released the shotgun. It clattered to the concrete breezeway floor, and he dropped like a sack of potatoes, right at Connor’s feet. Detective Bryson rushed up to the assailant, gun still in hand, and checked the man’s vitals. No restraints were necessary. The man was dead. He moved to Connor and began checking him out. Hey, partner. How’re you feeling? asked Detective Bryson. Daniel, I’m hoping that shock sets in soon because my left leg hurts like nobody’s business. said Connor. "Well, buddy, I don’t know if lucky is the right word or not because your leg does have some holes in it . . . but that’s the only place I can find any. said Daniel. Are you sure? Just the other day you said there had to be one in my head. Connor joked, nervously deflecting his reality. Daniel had removed his jacket and was tearing strips off of it, as he talked on the speakerphone of his cellphone. Shots fired and an officer is down. We need backup, paramedics, the coroner, a meat wagon, the whole shebang . . . Daniel said, giving the dispatcher the address and all of the pertinent details. After tearing away Connor’s left pants leg, he began securing the torn strips from his jacket around his leg to help stop the bleeding. In the distance, the two detectives could hear the approach of the cavalry, as announced by the sirens. Daniel gripped Connor’s hand, smiled, and said You’re going to be just fine, partner."

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Chapter 2: From Healing to Reeling

An investigation was standard procedure under the circumstances that led to the death of the assailant at the motel. Detective Gellar and Detective Bryson had been canvassing the area, and questioning residents in an attempt to get some clues for the armed convenience store robbery that had taken place a day prior to their confrontation with the perpetrator. It was assumed that Connor simply knocking on the motel door was enough for the paranoid robber to think the detective was on to him. They had very little info to go on, as the night clerk could only describe the robber as a big man wearing a ski mask, and brandishing a gun. The store’s security system had apparently malfunctioned, and nothing had been recorded. The only possible lead had been an anonymous call about a suspicious guest at a motel close to the robbery. They also assumed that when he peeped out and saw a man that looked like, well, a plain-clothes detective, he grabbed his shotgun and fired through the door. Connor was fortunate that he had fired a little prematurely when he had begun raising the shotgun. He was extremely fortunate that his partner had been at the other end of the breezeway. Connor’s anxious mind thought that it seemed that there was too much serendipity in play. If the simpleton had just answered the door and answered a few questions, even with lies that couldn’t be proven otherwise, or had not even answered at all, the shootings would have never taken place. The perp would have probably gotten away with the robbery. Anyway, the stolen money from the convenience store was found in his room. He had a shotgun that even CSI couldn’t bring out the serial number on. He also had an old-style, flip-type burner phone. The burner had placed and received a few calls, but the calls were traced back to yet another burner phone. The burner phone in the man’s possession was traced back to a local variety store. It had been purchased so long ago with cash, and their old-style video surveillance had already been written over. The suspect was dead. A gun was recovered. The convenience store money was recovered. Case closed. All’s well that ends well. Only things were not ending all too well for Connor.

Even though one of the finest surgeons in the state of North Carolina had performed a miraculous job with Connor’s leg, the damage was so extensive, his leg would never be the same again. Connor, who was 5’5" had always held his own when competing with his coworkers in sporting events at annual gatherings. He even prevailed against some of the bigger men, in challenges where size usually did matter. He had sandy-blonde hair, a mustache, and a pretty hard body for a 46-year-old man. The once, athletic and agile man was now unable to move faster than an average gait, and he had the limp to prove it. He had been on desk duty as soon as he was cleared to return to work. He did not like sitting out in the open, in the middle of the main office of the department, where everyone that went through the office encountered him. In fact, he hated it.

Once his cast was removed, and his broken bones and tissues had begun to heal up nicely, he started his physical therapy. His commanding officer, Captain Lester, also required him to do some psychological therapy, and eventually had him take a psychological evaluation, just as when he had first applied to the force. He had been driving a desk for over three months when he had decided it was well past time for him to get back to his real work.

Before Connor left for the day, he headed to the captain’s office. The door was open, but Connor politely knocked on the frame before going in. Captain Lester looked up from a report he had been typing in on the computer. Gellar, my man, how’re you doing? asked the captain. I am doing much better, thank you, Sir. said Connor. That’s good to hear. Calling it a day? asked Captain Lester. Yes, Sir, but I wanted to come by and talk to you before I left. said Connor. The captain sat up a little straighter in his chair. Sure, partner, what can I do for you? asked Captain Lester, giving Connor his full attention. Well, Sir, it has been over three months now since the incident. I’m doing great on my PT, and I know I move slower now, but I think I’m more than ready to get back into the field. said Connor.

Captain Lester shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Are you not happy with your current assignment? asked the captain. No, Captain, I’m not. I guess I just wasn’t born to be a desk jockey. said Connor. Don’t you think you need a little more time to heal and see if there are further improvements in that leg? asked Captain Lester. Sir, even though I’m still in physical therapy, I’m pretty much not going to heal any more than I have already. They did the best they could with my leg, but this is me now. said Connor. The captain’s eyes seemed to be searching the room for the right words to say. He wasn’t sure if he was going to find them. "Connor, do you really think you should work as a detective with that leg as it is? Have you thought about what might happen if you needed to run? asked the captain. I have thought about that, Sir. We’re always paired up with a partner. Some laws protect people from physical discrimination, as I’m sure you are aware. I may limp faster than a few detectives we already have around here, no offense. said Connor, not wanting to argue with his superior officer. Captain Lester inhaled deeply and then exhaled loud enough that Connor could hear him. You’re right, Connor. You’re absolutely right. There are discrimination laws in place, but I truly doubt you could pass the POPAT now. You are also right in the fact that we may have other employees that may find passing the POPAT again to be difficult, but it’s not their fitness in question right now, is it? I’m sure you wouldn’t want to make an issue about that. But there’s more than just your leg, Connor. Your psych eval is not helping your situation. Our psychologist has highly recommended that you do not return to the field in the capacity to do work as an officer. The incident has affected you deeper than you realize, Connor, I’m sorry. I was hoping that under the circumstances that maybe you would either choose to remain on desk duty, or maybe look into something within the department that would be a better, more suitable fit. You have gone through so much, I just haven’t wanted to tell you . . . and I guess I was hoping that maybe you were ready to find something else, too. Then when you received the evaluation results, it wouldn’t matter that much." said the captain.

Captain Lester was a man’s man who didn’t take anything off of anybody. He had been with the force so long, he had been eligible to retire many, many years ago. He had passed on many promotions because he loved being the captain. Even being in his early sixties, and of much less stature than your average male, he had the prowess to take down many larger and seemingly tougher people. Connor, having worked under the man for eleven years now, also knew that you couldn’t meet a better, more honorable man. Although the captain’s revelation to him confounded him, he could also tell that under his gruff facade, it pained Captain Lester to tell him this information.

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Chapter 3: There's Always Hope

It was not a cookie-cutter home by any means, but it was also much similar to your average suburbanite house one would find in Edmonton, North Carolina. Four bedrooms with a connected two-car garage, and the required white, picket fence. Edmonton was a nice city in which to live. It had a lot of the benefits and amenities of a bigger city, but still had that hometown feel of a small city. Connor pressed the garage door opener button on the device clipped to his sun visor, waited for the large door to rise, and then pulled into the garage. He closed the garage-door, and then headed into the house through the side door.

Although the kiss Alexis received from Connor when he arrived home was heart-felt, she could immediately tell something was wrong. Not one to beat around the bush, she asked. What’s bothering you, honey? she asked with concern. "Is it that obvious? I’ve always tried to wear my heart inside my sleeve. he replied, forcing a smile. Well, I don’t just see your heart, I can feel it too." she said. Connor smiled, genuinely that time and sat down at the kitchen table. His wife was preparing supper. Alexis washed her hands and then sat down in the seat next to him.

Alexis currently had long, blonde hair, as it did change from time to time. She was slightly shorter than Connor, and of average weight, with just enough extra in all the right places, as Connor would constantly remind her when she seemed self-concious. She had a very pretty face with a clear complexion. It’s over for me as a police detective. he said flatly. Alexis’ eyebrows furrowed. Because of your leg? They can’t do that. she said. "No, not just my leg. The shrink said that I shouldn’t return to police officer duty. Or should I say, highly recommends that I do not return to police officer duty. I’m so miserable doing desk duty. Connor said with exasperation. Alexis looked into his eyes. We can fight this. she said. We probably could. We might even find loopholes to win. But the fact is, if that’s how I’m viewed now, I don’t think I even want to be there anymore . . . and I don’t blame anybody. Although I think I would be fine with a good partner like Daniel, just as the captain said, I probably couldn’t pass the POPAT now, and I’m not going to sham my way through a psych eval. he said. Alexis was quiet for a few moments, and then said Is there anything else in the department that you would enjoy doing? she asked. Not really. he answered, bluntly. So quit." she said.

Connor offered a partial smile to his wife. "I’m serious. Find something else that you like to do somewhere else. My job at the university will support us for a while until you do. Alexis said. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than be a detective. You know how I had told you that I had always dreamed about it as a kid, and then worked my butt off as a uniform until I finally made it. said Connor. I know, dear, I know. Sometimes life throws us curve balls. We either have to hit one of them . . . she said. . . . or strikeout." he finished.

Connor, Jr., or Captain, as his dad had nicknamed him many years ago, came walking into the kitchen. Matey! he exclaimed when he saw that his father was home. Captain ran to where his dad was sitting and gave him a bear hug and a big kiss. Captain was twenty-two years old. Although he had Down syndrome, unlike the preconceived notions that so many people held, Captain was the spitting image of his dad, only with the subtle differences that many individuals with Down syndrome shared. He had slight epicanthic folds around brilliant, blue eyes. His ears, hands, and feet were just a little smaller than the average typical person of his height and weight. Captain had a big, strong upper body with tremendous strength. He had some gold medals to prove it.

Hey, Captain! exclaimed Connor. When Connor saw his son’s bright eyes and smile, everything negative in his mind temporarily vanished. Another preconceived notion was that all of the DS population were all so loving. There was no doubt in his mind that Captain was the most loving person he knew. However, on the few occasions that he did get mad, you’d better look out. Did you have a good day, today, buddy? Connor asked his son. Mm-hmm. he replied. After another hug with Connor, Captain hugged his mom and with slightly broken English asked What we have for supper, Mom?

After dinner, Alexis and Connor watched a few of their favorite TV shows, while Captain either watched one of his favorite shows, or played a video game on his computer or one of the many other game systems he owned. Oftentimes, Captain would multitask and play a game and watch a video at the same time. During a TV commercial, Alexis said "What about becoming a private detective? Connor looked at her with his eyebrows raised. I’m not kidding. I know it’s not exactly the same as a police detective, but I imagine it would be very similar. I would think that it could even be very satisfying for you. Although there are some cons, I can see many pros as well. she continued. You know, you might be onto something. It’s definitely a possibility. Thanks, honey." said Connor, smiling.

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Chapter 4: You’ll Never Know Till You Try

Although Connor was still somewhat depressed about his work situation, he also had a glimmer of hope for the possibility of a career change that could be a positive move for his situation. Normally, Alexis took Captain with her to her teaching job at the university, but today, Connor had called in and taken the day off. He was going to do a little research on how to become a private detective. Captain had elected to stay home with him since getting to spend a weekday with his dad was not very frequent.

Connor had always been an early riser, so he got up when Alexis did. After kissing her goodbye, he carried his cup of coffee into his office and turned on the computer. He tried to be quiet, so Captain could sleep in. He opened an internet browser and began researching the private detective requirements for the state of North Carolina. Using the internet, it didn’t take very long to find them. He was pleased to find that he had already met all the requirements for becoming a private investigator, as was the preferred term, if you were not in law enforcement. His time as a police detective with the force would count as the minimal of 3000 hours, or three years of training. All he had to do now was to submit the required applications and forms to the Department of Justice. Once he has been accepted, the PI license was good for two years. To keep your license, you must attend a board meeting, and take a minimum of twelve credit hours of continuing education during the two years. It seemed that everything could be performed online, as most things could be these days. Connor went ahead and submitted all of the necessary documentation, along with paying all of the appropriate fees.

After Connor had finished all of his application work, he decided to load a relaxing game on the computer. While he was playing, Captain walked into the office. Good morning, my buddy! said Connor, hugging his son. You ready for breakfast? Connor asked. Yep. Captain answered. Alright, I’ll get your morning medicine and breakfast. said Connor. Captain switched on his computer, which was right next to Connor’s. They had their computers networked so they could play games together. Connor retrieved Captain’s medicine and breakfast. Ninety-nine percent of the time, Captain had his favorite brand of yogurt for breakfast, along with some low-calorie chocolate milk or orange juice. Connor realized that he had not even had any breakfast, so he also got himself his normal staple of a cup of cereal in milk. Connor and Captain were as close as a father and son could possibly be. Even though Captain’s actual age level equivalent was somewhat less than his actual 22-years-of-age, Alexis had always reminded him that all people are different. As far as social maturity and interaction goes, Connor figured that his son had him beat. When Connor asked him Son, would you like to play our game? he wasn’t really sure what the answer would be. There was a time when it was always Captain asking his father to play, but as he grew older and more mature, that happened less and less. Connor was happy when he responded "Yes, we make