The badge wallet wasn’t in the training shoe. His warrant card was no longer valid. The team spirit enjoyed by the brotherhood of blue didn’t embrace him anymore. He was an outsider. Alone. An ex-cop. Ex-policeman. Ex-copper. Worse, he was a disgraced ex-copper. He squeezed his eyes tight shut and hoped Natasha would mistake the moisture for excitement. He forced a positive slant on the situation. At least when the offer came this time he could accept. He could fulfil his potential in that regard at least. The woman withdrew her hand as quickly as she’d slipped it along his shaft and stood back. Offer and price would come now.

Shouting from upstairs. A deep voice followed by a stifled female scream. A very young scream. The worst possible timing. He might not have the badge anymore, but eighteen years of service didn’t just evaporate overnight. Before the offer was even made he was off the table and pulling his jeans on.

Click here to learn more about Northern eX by Colin Campbell.

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Preview from Stalker Stalked by Lee Matthew Goldberg

Here is a preview from Stalker Stalked, a crime thriller by Lee Matthew Goldberg, published by All Due Respect, an imprint of Down & Out Books.

Click here for a complete catalog of titles available from Down & Out Books and its divisions and imprints.

I am being watched.

This is not the first time. My stalker is smart, just like I would be. He or she finds the shadows. Shows up when I’m wasted or popped too many little blue pills. So I’ll be far enough away from reality to believe they are real. When I’m sleeping they’re at the foot of my bed, exhaling in the dark. When I turn on the light, they scatter like a cockroach. I pick up the phone and hear their crackle on the other end. Both of us playing chicken, refusing to hang up while we breathe in each other’s pain. They left a DIE BITCH message on my door, written in blood, or at least syrup that looks like blood. They will ramp up their pursuit and attack when I least expect. I know this because that is what I would do.

As I get to my door, I check to the left and the right to locate my watcher. Sometimes when I don’t feel their presence, it makes me sad. Like I’ve done something wrong, become unworthy of their watching. Years of little blue pills make me muddy and the few vodka crans I drank toss me from side to side like I’m on a boat. I jam my key into the door and turn the lock.