Veteran Detective Robert Mason with the Atlanta Police Department and his twenty year old daughter, Samantha team up once again to solve the brutal murder of Restaurant owner Claude Moreau. Will they be able to unravel the clues and solve the case before the killer strikes again? Follow along in this action packed thriller and see if you can figure out who the killer is.
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NINE MILLIMETER
CHAPTER 1
The sound that a 9mm bullet makes as it rips its way through human flesh is one that 48 year old veteran homicide Detective Robert Mason would never forget. Especially, because it was his flesh that had just been ripped apart.
Laying in the hospital bed, Robert couldn’t help but overhear a large commotion coming from the end of the hall at the Atlanta General Hospital. Wishing that he could get up and close the door to his room to block out the noise, Robert just turned up the volume on the television set instead. It didn’t even matter what was on the television set. Robert just wasn’t in the mood to deal with any more drama today.
Closing his eyes and laying back in the bed, visions of the events from the last 48 hours flashed through his mind like a flickering old time movie reel that had been cut to pieces and then haphazardly taped back together.
It all started just over 48 hours ago when the shrill noise of Robert’s cell phone had awoken him at 2AM. The caller ID read APD Dispatch and Robert knew without even answering the phone that it was going to be a long day.
“This is Detective Mason,” said Robert into the receiver of the phone.
“Detective Mason, we have a DOA for you at La Petite Grenouille. I’m told that’s some fancy French restaurant downtown. All of the officers are just calling it Little Frog.” said the dispatcher.
La Petite Grenouille, or as it was translated from French into English, The Little Frog restaurant was one of Atlanta Georgia’s only five star restaurants located in the heart of Downtown Atlanta. Robert had only eaten there once years ago on a date and, although the food was good, the meal for two people had cost him a week’s salary.
“I’m familiar with the place. Please text me the address and I’ll get over there as soon as I can,” said Robert.
It seemed that there was no rest for the wicked. Robert typically had a few days off between cases but lately, it seemed to be one case to another with no breaks in between. Today, apparently, would not be the exception.
Robert got out of bed and before he even started to get dressed, he went into the kitchen and pressed the little blue button on the coffee pot. If there were any chances of making it through today, he was going to need coffee. There was no doubt in his mind.
Robert’s twenty year old daughter, Samantha, was scheduled to return back to school at Quantico this morning at the FBI training academy. She had recently made one of her rare visits down to see Robert during spring break but that was over now and it was time for her to go back. God only knew when Robert and Samantha would see each other again. Robert tried to be as quiet as he could so that he wouldn’t wake her.
Robert looked at his wristwatch. 2:15 AM. Samantha didn’t need to leave for the airport until Seven o’clock AM. That gave Robert less than 5 hours to attend to the crime scene and make it back home by seven to see his only child off to the airport.
As the coffee continued its slow drip into the pot, Robert quickly got dressed and ready to leave. Within the hour, Robert was pulling into the parking lot of the overpriced French restaurant, La Petite Grenouille.
The parking lot was already filled with squad cars, most of which still had their red and blue wig-wag lights flashing on the tops of the cars. As Robert approached the building, he was redirected by a uniformed officer to go to the back of the building. Robert followed the edge of the building and entered into the alleyway behind the restaurant.
Robert noted that the alleyway behind the building was dark and in desperate need of some sort of lighting. If this was how the killer had entered the building, it was most certainly chosen because there was no lighting and could not be seen from the parking lot or the street.
At the end of the alley, was a very large metal dumpster and next to the dumpster was a metal door. The door that, presumably, led to the kitchen area of the Little Frog. A uniformed officer was on her knees dusting the handle of the door and the surrounding frame for any fingerprints. Turning sideways, Robert edged past her trying to be careful not to touch any part of the frame or door with his body or clothing.
As he entered the kitchen area, Robert noticed a severe drop in temperature. A quick look around the room led Robert to the reason that the room was so cold. The door to the restaurant’s walk-in freezer stood wide open. It seemed that all of the commotion was centered around something just inside the entrance of the freezer itself.
Robert approached the freezer to find Dr. Martin Whitman, Atlanta’s only Medical Examiner, bent over a body lying face down in the prone position on the floor of the freezer. The body’s head was turned to the side in an unnatural looking position and Robert could see a pool of dark crimson liquid seeping out from under the chest of the body.
“Good morning, Detective,” said Martin.
“Good morning, Doc. What have we got today?” asked Robert.
“Single gunshot wound to the chest. The bullet wound is not a through and through so we should be able to get forensics from the slug. This appears to be one of the restaurant’s employees, however, we haven’t been able to confirm that just yet,” replied Dr. Whitman.
“Any idea what happened?” asked Robert.
“Well, it would appear as though this man has been shot!” said Martin with mock alarm in his voice.
“That’s not what I meant, Doc.” said Robert.
“Robert, I tell you this all the time, the detective work is up to you. I’m only here to report the facts as I find them,” said Martin.
“Bad mood today, Doc?” asked Robert.
“Who isn’t in a bad mood when they get woken up at two o’clock in the morning?” asked Martin.
“Touché,” replied Robert. “Any idea who picked this up?”
“I think Stacy,” said Martin pointing to the opposite end of the kitchen.
Robert scanned the room and quickly located his ex-partner Stacy Martinez on the other side of the room. Stacy had been Robert’s partner back when Robert was still a patrol officer for The Atlanta Police Department. But that was more than 10 years ago. Since then, Robert took the promotion to detective and Stacy stayed as a patrol officer.
Stacy was speaking to a woman that was very animated and waving her arms in the air when Robert approached.
“Detective Mason! I’m so glad to see you,” said Stacy with a look of relief on her face.
“Officer Martinez,” said Robert.
“Ma’am, this is Detective Robert Mason. He’ll be in charge of this case. You can direct any questions that you have to him,” said Stacy.
“Ma’am,” said Robert as he extended his hand out to the woman.
The woman talking to Officer Martinez was a short woman who appeared to be in her late forties to early fifties. She was dressed in a black pants suit with a pink silk blouse and was wearing enough jewelry that Robert was sure, if it were real, could finance his next house.
“Detective Mason, this is Sophie Moreau. Sophie is the wife of our victim and the co-owner of Little Frog, Claude Moreau,” said Stacy.
“Mrs. Moreau, I’ve just arrived at the scene but I will do everything in my power to bring justice to your husband,” said Robert.
“Yes, yes, I’m sure that you will. But right now, I need that freezer door closed! It’s bad enough that I just lost my husband, but there is over half a million in food in that freezer and I cannot afford for all of it to spoil because you people kept the door open too long!” said Sophie.
“Ma’am, I assure you I will see to it personally that the door gets closed as soon as possible,” said Robert.
“You better! The truffles alone were imported from Italy and are worth more than two hundred dollars an ounce! How are we going to prepare any food for tonight’s dinner service if it’s all thawed out and spoiled! Without the truffles we won’t be able to make our signature dish,” she demanded.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry for your loss and I will do everything that I can to save the food in the freezer but I’m afraid you won’t be opening up for dinner service tonight. This is an active crime scene and I’m certain you will be closed for several days while we work out what happened here,” said Robert.
“You don’t seem to understand Detective. The Governor of Georgia has a reservation here tonight. Not to mention all of the other bookings that we have. These people have been on a waiting list for months to eat here,” said Sophie.
“Ma’am, like I said, this is an active crime scene and you will not be open tonight. I don’t care if the President of the United States is scheduled to arrive. You are not opening tonight,” said Robert as calmly as he could.
“I need to contact my lawyer!” screamed Sophie as she stormed from the room nearly knocking over several officers on her way out.
“This one is going to be fun,” said Robert to Stacy sarcastically. Stacy simply nodded her head in agreement with Robert.