Chapter 1
Adrenalin pumped in Jeff’s veins. As he stared down the barrel of his duty pistol, his finger on the trigger ready to fire, Detective Lieutenant Jeff Chandler of the Los Angeles Police Department homicide division saw movement and squeezed. The blast made him flinch involuntarily. He heard popping sounds of gunfire all around him. The metal shell casings flung out of his pistol and clattered to the ground like spare change. The smell of gunpowder in the air, Jeff gazed out from behind the protective eyewear to see the target swing back again. He lowered his weapon and took a deep inhale of air. A second later, the targets began to spin once more. Jeff returned to his ready position and blasted three more rounds down range. Two to the body, one to the head. The targets hissed and faced sideways once more. Someone shouted, “Safe down range!” Jeff holstered his gun and moved the headphones off his ears so he could hear what was going on. The cops on the line walked to their targets. Jeff, and Mickey Stanton, his robbery detective husband, were shooting qualifications at the range today. As he and Mickey neared their targets, a range master had a piece of chalk and a clipboard. He graded Jeff’s target. Jeff wasn’t worried. He shot well. The range master spun around to see him. He smiled. “Good work, Lieutenant.” “Thanks,” Jeff replied and saw Mickey’s target was impressive. Marksmen. Perfect. Mickey gave him a sexy smirk as they walked back to the building to clean their guns and allow the next line of cops to shoot. After returning the ear and eye protection gear, he and Mickey stood at a high counter with cleaning supplies. Jeff removed his gun from his shoulder holster and took it apart. There were no bullets left in it after the last round of shooting. He disassembled it completely and then cleaned it with gun oil and cotton swab patches. Mickey, who was also in a suit and tie, did the same beside him.
