Chapter 1

The judge slammed his gavel down. "Case dismissed due to lack of evidence."

I stared, open-mouthed, incredulous at such a miscarriage of justice. Even though I had done everything by the book, they were letting my prisoner go on a technicality. Because my main witness was too scared of the gang the prisoner was a member of to show up in court, he walked.

Once more I left the Seattle courthouse in a pissed off mood.

As I walked out, I was surrounded by the press, all seeming to ask questions at the same time: "Officer Thomas how do you feel about the Judge throwing out the case?" "What will happen now?" "Are you worried about the parents suing you for False arrest?"

"What is this world coming to when four punk kids can drive by, shoot and kill three young girls walking down a street and nobody tries to stop it? This is not why I became a King County Sheriff's Deputy." I had joined the Sheriff's Office five years ago when I was medically retired from the Marines due to injuries after spending six years in Force Recon.

"These kids act like a bunch of rabid dogs! You don't coddle a rabid animal. You put it down, HARD!"

"But these are just kids, the oldest just 17 and the youngest only 14!"

"Billy the Kid killed his first man when he was 13. These kids were old enough to know right from wrong, yet they still picked up guns and killed some girls who were doing nothing but going home."

"But what about these boys' families? Are you saying that they should get the death penalty or serve life in prison?"

"Are you saying that they shouldn't be punished? The oldest has already been in and out of Juvenile Hall four times!

"And what about the victims' families? Their daughters did nothing wrong and they will never go home! Three innocent young girls are dead! What of them? Did they deserve to die?" I exclaimed, walking away from them. I knew that I would be hearing about this later, but damn! What did they expect?

I got into my car and headed back to the Burien station. Burien was a small town just south of Seattle, too small to have their own police, so the job fell to us of the King County Sheriff's Office.

I slammed the door on the way in and sat at my desk, still pissed.

"What the hell's the matter now, Clay?" asked Dave, my partner for the last 4 years.

"Them bastards walked! I don't know why we even bother! It should be like it was a hundred years ago -- if they got caught, they hung. Now they scare the witnesses so bad that they are afraid to testify in court; or if we do get a conviction, they're under 18 so they just barely get a slap on the wrist! I've about had it!"

"What can you do? We don't make the rules; we just try to enforce them, but our hands are tied."

"Well for two cents, I'd tell the boss where to shove this job!" I said.

"Don't do that," Dave said. "Why don't you just take some time off? You have about 6 weeks vacation coming."

"Can you imagine when I get back? This place would really be a mess. We are all ready 5 men short. I just can't take off. This place is already a zoo."

"You can't keep this up, you'll burn out."

"I almost feel burnt out now"

"What about that fair you were talking about?"

"You mean Pioneer Days, back home?" I grew up in Hill City South Dakota, just a few miles South of Deadwood. Pioneer Day's is a big festival for all the surrounding area.

"Yeah that's it. Didn't you used to enter in some of the events?" asked Dave.

"Yup! Saddle Bronc, Wild Cow Milking, Rifle & Pistol, and Quick Draw; but I'm awful rusty."