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  Gold Star Chance

  (Five Point Series – Book 1)

  By CJ Murphy

  ©2019 CJ Murphy

  ISBN (trade) 978-1-948327-28-2

  ISBN (epub): 978-1-948327-29-9

  ISBN (pdf): 978-1-948327-30-5

  This is a work of fiction - names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business, events or locales is entirely coincidental. 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.

  Desert Palm Press

  1961 Main St, Suite 220

  Watsonville, CA 95076

  Editor: CK King

  Cover Design: TreeHouse Studio, Winston-Salem, NC

  Blurb

  High in the Appalachian Mountains, Sheriff Chance Fitzsimmons, frequently puts her specialized rescue training to use. The retired smoke jumper, turned law enforcement officer, is dedicated to the protection of all those who live in or visit Tucker County, West Virginia. With her K9 partner, Zeus, she maintains the peace even as it eludes her off-duty life.

  On her chest, she wears a badge that symbolizes her guiding principles. There are five points, each representing an inherent code of ethics. Honor, duty, courage, integrity, and empathy represent her way of life in and out of uniform. The day her father stepped in front of a bullet, the consequences of defending those gold-plated edicts, were imprinted on her soul. Years later as a forest fire raged over her body, they were seared into her skin.

  Dr. Jax St. Claire, drove away from California wine country with two horses in tow and a broken spirit. After a failed marriage, Jax is determined to start again as she takes over her retired uncle's veterinary practice in a small West Virginia county.

  Untamed wilderness, sliced open by deep canyons and wide rivers, draws outdoor enthusiasts all year long to Tucker County, West Virginia. At the conclusion of an intense rescue operation, the former lovers come face to face, thirty years later after they parted. Long dormant feelings rage to life like a hot spot in dry tinder.

  Three decades ago, Jax went off to college and took Chance's heart with her. Now that she's back, the formidable Sheriff is determined to grab her 'gold star chance'. Forces beyond their control may cost them everything before the mistakes from the past can be rectified. 'The Five Points Series', Book one, introduces a burning passion so strong, the river cascading over Blackwater Falls couldn't put it out.

  Acknowledgment

  This series was created for my wife, Darla, as a tribute to an incredible woman with a distinguished career. She never got the retirement sendoff she deserved for her years of dedicated service. Sadly, she never got the earned ‘job well done’ for planning, building and paying off a state of the art 911 center, for being the first line of emergency response rarely seen or thanked, for the nights of watching river levels, or the countless hours of preparing 5000 residents for the inevitable natural or man-made disaster. Darla, this is for you, for all you’ve done for so many and for loving a Murphy like me.

  When I decided to write an emergency services series, I wanted to put it in a place that would offer the reader some of the best of my home state. Wild and wonderful aptly describes West Virginia’s mountains, valleys, rivers and streams. The state offers residents and visitors the chance to enjoy the four seasons as they play outside in the rainbow of spring, the green of summer, the scarlet and ginger of autumn, and the pristine white of winter. Tucker County boasts a variety of options: two state parks, two ski resorts, five rivers for fishing, rafting and kayaking, the Blackwater Canyon and Dolly Sods for hiking, biking and camping as well as an area known as Otter Creek used by the US Special Forces to train. Once you add in the quaint towns, microbreweries, and fantastic restaurants, Tucker County becomes the perfect setting for the Five Points Series.

  My wife was the former emergency manager and 911 director for the county this series is set in. In addition to that, I’ve spent over twenty-five years as a career and volunteer firefighter. With sixty years of combined emergency service work, my wife and I have a treasure trove of experience to draw on. My fictional emergency responders will have many unique adventures based on real life rescues, natural disasters, and law enforcement incidents that we’ve experienced. I hope you’ll enjoy getting to know Sheriff Chance Fitzsimmons and her K9 Zeus as the pair protect the innocent while serving as the thin blue line between order and anarchy.

  Chapter One

  SHERIFF CHANCE FITZSIMMONS OPENED the rear door of her black Yukon and spoke in Dutch. “Laden, Zeus.” The Belgian Malinois effortlessly leapt into the rear compartment, tongue darting in and out as he panted from their vigorous run around the Canyon Loop trail. Her K9 partner was her constant companion and had been trained at one of the finest institutions for producing police dogs. He was striking with his dark fawn coat and sable mask.

  “Let’s go home, boy.” Using a towel pulled from the front seat, she wiped the sweat from her face, then vigorously rubbed it through her short grey-streaked, short brown hair.

  It was mid-May, and the mountain air was still cool in the early morning. Several people in the parking area pulled mountain bikes off their vehicles, in preparation for tackling part of the canyon. She walked to the window and ran a hand over the velvet ears of her companion. She’d traveled all the way to Holland to form her bond with the two-year-old. Leaner than a German shepherd, the breed was distinctive. Common traits were confidence and extreme intelligence. The Belgian Malinois was known to bond tightly with its handler and was loyal beyond question. Those qualities were exactly why she’d chosen the breed and him. Of one thing she was certain; Zeus would jump in front of a bullet for her and she’d do the same for him.

  “Good run boy.” Chance and Zeus had run the loop three times that morning for a total of seven and a half miles. Without conscious thought, she looked at the make, model, and license plates of each vehicle, committing the state and six to seven-digit number and letter combination of each plate to memory. Subaru Outback, West Virginia tags 17J-654, Dodge Durango Maryland specialty tag, BAL 8765. More than once she’d averted calling out the cavalry for a lost hiker by remembering where she’d last seen the vehicle of the missing person. A quick drive to the location of the last known sighting had frequently led to the discovery of the overdue individual. Normally, that person had underestimated the difficulty of the trail and time that it would take to hike back out.

  Beyond her job as Sheriff of Tucker County, Chance also held the position of Operations Chief on the countywide search and rescue team. Her team was well versed in locating lost or injured visitors that failed to heed posted warnings or overestimated their wilderness savvy. During the summer months, they averaged one or two calls per week for overdue hikers, bikers, or anglers. In the winter months, finding a person who might have fallen from a tree stand or off the face of one of the canyon walls before temperatures fell below zero added to the adrenaline surge.

  “Ready to go have breakfast, buddy?” The answering bark from the rear compartment echoed off the interior of the vehicle, as Chance slid her key into the ignition and started the engine. As was her routine, she picked up the mic for her radio and depressed the talk button. “SD-1 to Comm Center.”

  A disembodied voice came out of the speaker mounted in a utility compartment n
ear the windshield. “Comm Center to SD-1. Go ahead.”

  “SD-1 is clear T1.”

  “SD-1 clear T1. Comm Center received.”

  Chance had made this contact call a part of her morning run routine after the day Dee fell ill and had to be transported to the hospital while Chance was out of communication. The location varied and was given to the communication center in code as T1 through T7. She used this code to avoid announcing to the always curious ‘scanner land’ where she and Zeus were having their morning run. Now, if something happened while she was in and out of cell phone coverage, the communication center knew where to find her. Currently, she frequented seven trails for these outings at five every morning. Her days as a Forest Service smoke jumper were certainly over. The necessity of being able to run full tilt through the woods as if the devil himself were chasing her was not.

  Ten minutes later, she opened the back door of her home to see Maggie Fitzsimmons standing in her kitchen. The walls of the log home shone a honeyed hue and added to the comfort the house offered. The smell of black coffee and bacon assaulted her senses.

  Maggie curled her nose and pointed to the hallway. “Shower first, I can smell you from here.”

  “You’re a feisty broad first thing in the morning. I haven’t even come close enough for you to smell me over that bacon.” Chance grabbed at the plate, only to have Maggie peer at her over her glasses while she pointed toward the bathroom with added emphasis.

  Maggie used a fork to turn over the bacon in the cast iron skillet. “I didn’t raise you to sass me. I turned you over my knee when you were twelve, and I’ll do it again. Don’t push me to see if I’m kidding. Go. I’ll feed Zeus.”

  Chance risked kissing the silver-haired woman on her way past and toward the shower. “You’d have to catch me first, old lady.” Chance deftly avoided the swipe of the dish towel that came off Maggie’s shoulder with speed belying her age.

  “Old lady my ass. If you don’t get in the shower and back to this breakfast table in seven minutes or less, I’ll feed your breakfast to Zeus. Go, you ungrateful heathen.”

  “Love you, Mom.” Chance often thought that if her hair turned the same color as Maggie’s, she’d happily avoid a relationship with Miss Clairol. Maggie’s silver hair had a beautiful shine to it. Chance looked at her own chestnut locks and reached up to touch the silver at the temples. She growled and shook her head at the shock of silvery white that had grown out in the front when she was very young. This getting old sucks.

  The shower knob slipped in the beige-tile enclosure, as she turned on the water to let it warm. “One more thing I need to fix.” She stripped out of her running clothes and stepped inside. Hot water pounded against the top of her head, and she stretched her neck from side to side to allow the massaging pulsations room to relieve the tension that settled there. She sang an off-key version of Janis Joplin’s “Mercedes Benz,” as she scrubbed her hair and body.

  The bacon smell forced her to rush, and within minutes she climbed from the shower to dry off. Steam obscured the mirror and she wiped a hand across it, as she pushed open the small window to cool the room. Her stomach growled. “I hear you, girl. I’m hurrying.” She raised her left arm and rubbed the towel along her side. The rough scar tissue that ran around her left bicep and down her flank was red from the heat of the water.

  Years ago, she’d parachuted into a wildfire and been forced to deploy her emergency shelter. The aftermath had left its mark. She liberally applied cocoa butter to keep the skin supple and allowed the smell to fill her senses. The emotional scars from that day continued to fade as she excelled in her new career. As she brushed her teeth, she looked into the mirror. Fierce, gunmetal-blue eyes met her stare in the reflection. Once she spat out the toothpaste, she repeated the words she’d said every day since she left the burn ward. “Steel is tempered by fire, and gold is refined by it.” She walked to her bedroom and dressed in a jog bra and boxer briefs before slipping on her tactical pants and steel-toed boots. She pulled on her black T-shirt and finger combed her hair on her way to the kitchen.

  Zeus rose to meet her before dutifully sitting by her side when she took a seat at the breakfast table. Maggie placed the platter of bacon in the middle of the table and handed Chance a plate with two eggs, sunny-side up. Maggie pointed to the yellow bottle near the salt. Chance used her fork to chop the eggs, then liberally squirted them with mustard before she mixed the overly yellow concoction. As she brought the first bite to her mouth, she saw Maggie shake her head.

  “What?”

  Maggie wrinkled up her nose. “The things your father taught you. How can you even taste the eggs?”

  “With my tongue.” Chance childishly gave a disgusting view of her food.

  Her mother rolled her eyes. “Fifty-four going on seven. Eat, and get your ass out of here. You have that meeting at ten.”

  Maggie Fitzsimmons had been Chance’s staunchest supporter and the only parent she’d had for forty of her fifty-four years of life. Chance’s mother died giving birth to her. Years later, her father, Maggie’s brother, died in the line of duty in the county where Chance was now Sheriff. Deputy Ray Fitzsimmons had found himself on a domestic call between an enraged husband and the wife he was intent on killing. Bulletproof vests don’t stop gunshot wounds to the head.

  With no other living relative, Maggie Fitzsimmons had stepped up and raised Chance to be a strong woman. Maggie and Dee ran a small real estate agency consisting mainly of rental properties they managed for others plus a few they personally owned. Maggie was well known and respected in the county, having served more than one term as county commissioner and head of the economic development authority.

  “That meeting is with you and Dee, so I’m not really worried. Why do I need to be at the chamber of commerce meeting anyway?”

  “Because Dee asked you to be there to help organize the fund raiser. Come on, Chance, it’s for the girls’ basketball travel fund. You know how it is; their budget is half what the boys’ is. You owe this to her for putting up with your antics all those years she coached you to the championships.”

  Maggie’s wife was a force of nature. Tall with a head of red hair, Dee Fitzsimmons juggled all the elements of their life and still managed to look thirty years younger than her age. She served as president of the Tucker County Chamber of Commerce as well as the girls’ high school basketball and softball coach. She was also one of Chance’s best friends.

  “Yeah and because of her, I have no knees.” Chance shoved a strip of crispy bacon in her mouth. She picked up another piece and reverently bowed her head. “You are the queen of bacon. I salute you.”

  “God, you are so full of shit. You have no knees because you spent twenty years jumping out of an airplane and you know it.” Maggie picked up her coffee cup and used it to point to Chance. “Eat and get out of here. Leave me to my peaceful morning before I have to go deal with that jackass.”

  “Maggie Fitzsimmons, would you be casting aspersions on our esteemed county commissioner?” Chance knew that Maggie had no patience or compassion for the man holding her former office.

  “How that jackass ever got elected still amazes me. I still swear that election was fixed.”

  “You act as if he kept you from winning. You didn’t even run. As a matter of fact, he was running unopposed, so I’m not sure you could say it was fixed…unless he threatened everyone to not run against him. I told you to get your name on that ballot, but you said you’d done your sentence. If he pisses you off that much, you can always put your hat back in the ring. Floyd wouldn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell against you.”

  Maggie narrowed her eyes and sipped her coffee. “Eat.”

  Chance chuckled and wiped up the last of her egg mixture with a piece of toast. She sipped at the coffee her mother had served in her favorite mug and checked her buzzing phone. It was a message from her second in command, Taylor Lewis.

  Call me, ASAP. Issues at the barn.

  She mu
mbled to herself as she stood and put on her uniform shirt. She walked to the closet that held her work gear. She grabbed the bulletproof vest with her badge pinned to it and slipped it on. After a deep breath, her hands smoothed down the Velcro. She adjusted the vest for comfort, before she donned her gun belt and threaded the belt through the buckle.

  In the closet, Chance rolled the numbers to release the lock on the small safe that held her service revolver and backup weapon. With her left leg elevated on a low shelf, she slid the backup gun into the boot holster and grabbed for the black Stetson she favored with her uniform. The mirror on the door gave her the opportunity to check out her appearance. When everything was in place, she grabbed Zeus’ bulletproof vest, with his own badge sewn on the side, and slipped it over her partner’s head. Once she’d adjusted the fit, Zeus shook and bounded over to the door, ready to go to work.

  Maggie met her with a full travel cup and smoothed her hands over the uniform shirt and kissed her on the cheek. “Be safe, Chance.” She looked down at the dog. “Zeus, keep her under control, do you hear me?”

  Zeus answered her with a quick bark and a tail wag.

  “We promise, Mom. See you at ten, unless Taylor isn’t exaggerating that we have a problem at the barn. I’ll call you.”

  “Laden.” Zeus vaulted into the back. The use of the foreign language commands helped with two things. One, the dog could distinguish commands from conversation. Two, suspects would not know what the dog was being told to do and were unlikely to be able to give the dog commands to counteract her own. As soon as she turned on to Appalachian Highway, she used the voice activation to call Taylor.

  “Hey, Taylor, what’s up?”

  “Morning, Sheriff, sorry to call so early. Sabrina seems to be a bit lame this morning, and I thought you should know. I noticed some swelling in her leg.”