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About Ronnie Ashmore
Ronnie Ashmore is a veteran police officer and two-time chief of police who started his law enforcement career as a jailer and worked his way up through the ranks.
He writes novels involving crime thrillers and westerns. He has an ability to give his characters an authentic voice and a sense of reality.
When he is not working or writing and has some spare time, he enjoys playing golf, fishing, and traveling.
You can contact him at firstname.lastname@example.org
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Titles By Ronnie Ashmore
A simple trip to Austin so his wife can shop is anything but simple for Sam Bolton. Caroline is attacked and gunned down in the streets by an outlaw with a taste for killing. With her life in the balance, Sam sets off to find the man responsible. Along the way he discovers that chasing this outlaw will test his limits and his patience.
Teaming up with the man’s cousin, they follow the killer’s crooked trail of destruction and deception. This is one trail Sam Bolton won’t let go cold because this time he is riding to settle a score with the man who shot his wife.
The man stared at Sam, “Knew you’d be comin’. What happened was an accident.”
“It was no accident. Colin Cook shot my wife. Are you protectin’ him?”
Sam fixed the man with a stare that could have drawn blood. The man shook his head and smiled.
“He’s a cousin. He told us you were some big-time gun man and to watch for you.”
“I ain’t gonna shoot you, big man,” Sam said. “What’s your name?” he took a step closer.
“Witt. Folks call me Witt.”
“Well, half-wit, I’m gonna beat you with my fists until you tell me where Cook is.”
“Fists? There is no way you..,” Witt said.
Sam hit him. Flush in the mouth, splitting his lips and causing blood to flow. The man was dazed but only for a moment. Sam hit him again with a right across the face.
Witt took the blow and swung a left of his own that caught Sam on the side of the head. Sam ducked a right from Witt, then came up with a brutal uppercut that connected on Witt’s chin, knocking the bigger man backwards off balance. Sam moved in, throwing a left and a right to the body, hearing the wind escape from Witt. Stepping back, Sam swung a hard right hand to the face of Witt.
Witt turned at the last second and the blow was ineffective. Witt swung a fast left hand that caught Sam in the face, cutting his cheek, blood was flowing.
Both men stepped back sizing the other up. Sam wiped blood from his face, Witt felt his battered lips. The bartender was yelling to get out of the saloon to fight. Both men ignored him.
Witt smiled at Sam, “You hit hard.”
Sam wiped his cheek again, “You wanted this. I am going to find Cook. He shot my wife like a dog.”
Witt dropped his hands and stood straighter. Looking around the room, he looked back at Sam.
Sam didn’t want to let his guard down, but he sensed the fight was over. He relaxed his fighting stance and told Witt the story of how Colin Cook shot his wife.
“Barkeep! Bring a bottle, some glasses, and a towel. Have a seat Mister, let’s talk about this,” Witt said, sitting at a table in the back of the room.
“You’re family of his?” Sam said sitting down.
The bartender brought the items Witt had requested. He handed a glass to each man along with a wet towel, the bottle he sat on the table.
Witt poured the drinks, as Sam wiped his bloodied face and waited.
“He’s a cousin, like I said. But we ain’t close. He paid me a hundred dollars to keep watch for you and head you off.”
“I’m sure he got more than that from the bank robbery. Either way, I don’t care about the money. I care that he shot my wife on the way out.”
Witt downed his drink, flinching as the whisky burned his cut lips. He poured himself another. Sam sipped his drink, watching the man carefully.
“Cook made it sound as if he was being shot at and hit the woman by mistake. How he told the story anyway.
Mike left the chief’s office, he slowly walked down the hall to the lobby and made his way outside. Captain Morgan was waiting for him in the parking lot. Morgan walked up to him with a scowl on his face.
“Wanna go with me?”
“I’m on leave. I can’t do nothing.”
“Well, I’m not sitting here waiting for the mighty Texas Rangers to investigate one of us. I’m going to the scene, if you’re up for it, we could walk through it again.”
Mike was conflicted, at least this would feel like doing something instead of sitting home alone with his thoughts. On the other hand, Chief would have his ass if he was caught at the scene. Getting in Morgan’s unmarked pickup Mike said, “I’m not supposed to be involved with this investigation. Chief just told me that.”
“I’m not part of the shooting investigation either. But I don’t want one of our officer’s fate trusted to an outside agency. Even the Texas Rangers. We are just going to look around. Don’t worry about it.”
Mike knew Morgan always seemed to not trust other cops who didn’t have a Colby police badge. They sat in silence as Morgan drove back to the scene.
There was plyboard in the door where the glass had been, that was the first thing Mike noticed as they drove past Smith’s Market and turned right. Morgan stopped at the mouth of the alley as crime scene tape blocked the entrance. The Ranger said there were people looking for the gun, but they must have been looking on Mars, because the alley was empty.
As they got out of the pickup, Morgan led the way stepping under the yellow tape into the alley, Mike walked slowly behind him feeling like a trespasser crossing into a forbidden area. He could see the events unfold again in his memory and felt the urge to either cry or throw up, or maybe both. Morgan’s voice broke into the horror movie that was playing in Mike’s mind.
“Stand where you were last night.”
Mike walked to the spot he would never forget standing. Morgan went to about where the gunman had stood which was easy to see since there was blood stains and trash from EMS laying there marking the place where a young life had ended violently. The alley which felt so foreboding and eerie in the dark was much less intimidating in the daylight. All the movements Morgan was making was clear and easy to see.
Morgan turned to face Mike, “Now, you shoot me, I fall back, or I fall down. Where the hell does the gun go?” There was only empty space around the site. Morgan continued to look around, Mike started to think it was the proverbial needle in the haystack when he seen Morgan look up at the back of the building that would be the rear of Smith’s Market. Morgan took several steps back and began jumping in an effort to get a better look. It was hard to tell what it was, but it was worth checking out.