Carol Steward - Badge Of Honor

“I have to go. It’s a family matter. It has nothing to do with this case, Sergeant.”

Nick wanted to believe her. The problem was the fear he saw in her dark brown eyes. “What does it have to do with, then?”

Sarah looked around uncomfortably. “My sister’s…safety. I can’t talk about it.”

“Not here, you mean? Not to me?”

She looked him in the eye and he knew something was wrong. “Just trust me—you don’t need to know.”

Nick felt the knife in his back again. Except this petite woman was standing right in front of him. “You’re leaving before finishing reports. I’d say I need to know. You may have FBI credentials, but it’s my duty to make sure you know how to survive on the streets. And I can assure you a distracted police officer may be a danger to herself and her partner.”

The silence between them lengthened. Her voice softened. “I wouldn’t do that to you.” She glanced up at him. “Never.”

To Carol Steward, selling a book is much like riding a roller coaster—every step of the process, every sale brings that exhilarating high. During the less exciting times, she’s busy gathering ideas and refilling her cup. Writing brings a much-needed balance to her life, since she has her characters share lessons she has learned, as well.

When she’s not working at the University of Northern Colorado, you can usually find her spending time with her husband of over thirty years, writing and thanking God she survived raising her own three children, to reap His rewards of playing with her adorable grandchildren.

Throughout all the different seasons of life, God has continued to teach Carol to turn to Him. She has also learned to simplify her life and appreciate her many blessings—His gift of creativity, sharing her love for God with readers and setting an example of what God can do when we say, “Yes, God, take me, shape me, use me.” To find out more about Carol’s slightly crazy life and her books, visit her Web site at www.carolsteward.com.

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For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in His steps. He committed no sin; no guile was found on his lips. When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten; but he trusted to him who judged justly.

—I Peter 2:21–23

This book could not have come together without the support of many dear friends and loved ones. First, for understanding that it kills me to miss the chance to spend time with all of you. Know that you’re always near my thoughts, even when I’m writing. You’ll see what I mean. Second, for not only understanding, but helping me through the rough spots, whether it’s cooking dinner—again—or a massage, or helping me throw out a scene and make it better. You’re all the greatest inspiration I could ever ask for.

Again, to my editor, Melissa—I can’t thank you enough.

To my wonderful husband, Dave. Thanks for taking

a chance on me and never letting me give up on my

dreams. Thirty years and counting!

To my daughter, Sarah, and her husband, who are

both a true blessing to me, and whose real-life

determination to forever live up to being the oldest

breathed life into a cookie-cutter character.

God bless you both.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

EPILOGUE

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

Nick Matthews marched into the precinct, a wave of silence rippling in his wake. His life had changed forever. Even here, with the men and women who had been his friends and defended his life, the shadow of doubt tainted his return. He wouldn’t be able to repair the damage to his honor overnight, but he wasn’t about to walk away.

Fighting crime was his life.

Nick noticed a petite woman walk into the building next to him and turned to investigate. Opening the door to the administrative wing of the police station, he held it as she hurried through.

“Thank you,” she said, tossing her full hair over her shoulder.

He nodded, trying to turn off the guilt of admiring a pretty woman. He wasn’t committed to anyone anymore. Ronda had taken care of that with one swift judgment.

With his conscience cleared, Nick turned to introduce himself, stopped when the FBI seal on her navy polo shirt stole his interest.

His adrenaline kicked into high gear, like it did when he was working a case. Why was the FBI here? What was she investigating? Or should he ask who?

Before he could say anything, she turned down the hall toward the shift commander’s office and disappeared without another word.

Nick entered the men’s locker room preoccupied with thoughts of the woman in the FBI shirt. As he made his way through, he heard someone say, “There was another assault last night.”

Nick listened, wondering if they had a serial criminal on their streets. Maybe that was why “Miss FBI” was here.

“Was it the same M.O. as the rape last spring…?” The officer’s voice faded the minute he saw Nick.

“No, didn’t get that far. Three students walked by and scared him off.” The lower voice was easy to identify. Jared Daniels.

Steeling himself against the dreaded silence, Nick wondered how the chief thought returning to patrol duty rather than to his position as detective would build trust again. But Nick didn’t voice his questions. Those were his orders.

“Hey there, Matthews, welcome back,” Officer Jeremy Logan said as he walked past.

Nick nodded. “Thanks, Jeremy. It’s good to be here.” He fielded a greeting or two, and more than a few skeptical glares from other officers. No one wanted to be associated with a troublemaker, let alone a cop suspected of being on the take. Lockers clanged shut as the whispers turned to silence. One by one, a half-dozen men slipped out of the room in quick succession.

He silently repeated Isaiah 43:2, the verse that had gotten him through this ordeal. “When you pass through deep waters, I will be with you: your troubles will not overwhelm you.” Some days, like today, Nick questioned how much tribulation God thought he could handle. His own opinion was obviously very different from God’s.

Opening his locker, Nick took a quick inventory.

He hadn’t been in here for weeks, and hadn’t worn his uniform since he’d moved to the investigative unit three years ago.

Ignoring the silence was impossible.

These officers had been like family. He couldn’t believe any one of them would think he’d have gone along with anyone on the force selling confiscated drugs. Worse yet was the implication that three officers had been involved in the underground drug ring. So if it wasn’t Nick, they were still looking for one more culprit.