Here are just a few of the odd things that occurred during the past 15 years of the WPA.
14. Semi-Nude Presenter – Sometimes, we have someone famous announce the winner of the annual Golden Donut Short Story Contest, and they typically do so via video. One year the winner’s name was announced by actor Michael Cudlitz of Band of Brothers, SouthLand, The Walking Dead, and currently Superman and Lois (Cudlitz plays Lex Luthor).
Mike was a bit late in getting the recorded video announcement to me, arriving the day we were due to present the trophy. He followed up by calling to apologize for the tardiness. The delay, he said, was because he’d been filming the TV show SouthLand and the video had slipped his mind.
He went on to say that he’d remembered it after he’d gone to bed the night before and was nearly asleep when it hit him. So, he immediately hopped out of bed, slipped on a t-shirt, and then recorded the brief video, a clip that showed Mike from the waist up. He said the upper body shot was appropriate and 100% necessary since in his haste to make the recording he’d neglected to put on pants; therefore, he was nude from the waist down.
So yes, Michael Cudlitz announced the winner of the WPA Golden Donut Contest while NOT wearing pants. Of course, fans of the TV show SouthLand once saw Mike’s lower half (back side only) during a shower scene.
13. Topless Car Wash – In 2009, the WPA took place at a public safety academy in Jamestown, N.C., and we booked a nearby hotel for sleeping and meeting rooms, and the banquet and reception. Unfortunately, we did not check out the businesses located to the rear of the property. As a result of our poor observation skills, the view many of our attendees were treated to when gazing out from their hotel room windows was that of a quite busy topless car wash. We’ve not made this mistake a second time.
12. Love Story – Two writers met and fell in love at the WPA and later married.
11. Love Story, Part II– Two newlywed writers, not the two from #12, spent their honeymoon at the Writers’ Police Academy.
10. Writers Destroy Equipment – During PIT Maneuver training (Precision Immobilization Technique), a writer/driver connected the right front corner of their patrol vehicle with the left rear of the suspect vehicle’s left rear corner. Well, the object of the technique is to cause the suspect vehicle’s rear tires to lose traction and spin to bring the car to a stop, allowing pursuing officers to apprehend the driver. In this session, however, the writer/driver engaged with a wee bit too much force and ripped off the entire front bumper of their patrol car. During the Saturday night banquet, the instructor presented the mangled bumper to the attendee as an “award” for their remarkable driving skills. PIT Maneuver classes are no longer offered at the WPA. Gee, I wonder why not …
In another accidental incident, a WPA attendee was a little too rough when behind the wheel of the emergency vehicle driving simulator, and, well, they broke it. The initial cost of the simulator exceeded $100,000.
9. No Bra, Do NOT Go to Jail – In past years, we offered tours of county jails, prisons, police departments, and morgues. Since jail and prison tours involved visiting actual housing units where inmates live and were present, WPA attendees were searched before entering the facility. They were not allowed to wear jewelry, carry purses, bags, cellphones or cameras, ink pens, or weapons (of course), and they were to be properly attired—no revealing clothing.
Well, one of the attendees scheduled for the tour was someone whose personal preference was to not wear a chest area undergarment, and the person’s wardrobe selections as upper body wear for the event included only thin shirts/tops. They were refused entry to the jail unless a proper change of clothing was immediately available. So, one of our volunteers managed to produce a bra and shirt, both correctly sized, and all was made well in a matter of minutes. Those volunteers—the “Library Ladies” —were prepared for practically anything that popped up or out or that needed covering.
8. NO FOOD! – We sometimes host a nice Friday night reception that takes place around 7 p.m., complete with delicious hors d’oeuvres and beverages.
Back in the day I typically did not micromanage the reception setups and preparation, as I do for the law enforcement-related activities. After all, what could go wrong with fruit, cheese, and meatballs? You set up a bunch of tables, prepare the food, and then place it on the tables for people to enjoy. That’s it, right?
One would think so, but …
I usually arrive at the reception between 6 and 6:30 to make sure the cash bar and food are in place and that our guests are having a good time. Well, this particular year when I arrived the food was nowhere to be seen. Nor were the tables where the goodies were to be placed. I immediately strolled into the kitchen, a place where no mortal human is supposed to go, to see about the trouble. I saw nothing but empty food prep tables and stovetops. No employees, No chef. Not even a single crumb for a hungry mouse to find for its midnight snack.
I panicked.
I found one of the event set-up people in the back office and explained the situation, quite loudly. He said there were no orders for a reception. Again, I raucously explained the situation. He finally found our reception order on a clipboard and was shocked to see the extensive food list. It was now 6:10 with the reception scheduled to begin at 7. He said there was nothing he could do because there was no food to prepare.
As you know, I would never settle for such an answer. Therefore, I INSISTED that he call someone who could help, and then together he and I went to work. I discovered an entire already-prepared wedding reception feast just sitting in the walk-in cooler waiting for the taking. So, I, along with the set-up guy and three other hotel staff who responded to the call for help, heated the things that needed heating, plated things that weren’t already plated, arranged things that needed arranging, and then carried it all out to the tables that were then waiting in the reception room.
We started the reception ten minutes late, but it was done, and it was scrumptious. Best of all, no one had any idea of the chaos that went on behind those kitchen doors.
7. No Instructors, No Problem – Due to outgrowing one of our host academies we moved to a larger training facility. The new venue was relatively nice with top-of-the-line equipment. However, several instructors who worked there failed to show up on the first day of our event. No advance notice. Nothing. Not a peep. They simply didn’t show up, which left us scrambling to accommodate nearly two-hundred writers. We managed to make use of larger classrooms to shift attendees from the suddenly nonexistent sessions to those that were available. Fortunately, it all worked out and appeared seamless.
But the next day promised to be a repeat of AWOL instructors who’d not taken their commitment to the WPA seriously. So, Denene, the hotel security chief (a former instructor at the academy in question), and I were up that night until 3 a.m. trying to come up with a solution for a potential day two disaster. Luckily, with the security boss’ assistance and several late-night phone calls to contacts and friends, we had instructors to fill in the vacant spots.
The event was a success with no one the wiser as to the hours of agony we’d experienced. We did not return to this academy.
6. Food Shortage and Drunk Chef – Our Saturday night banquets are pleasant, fun affairs. The food is typically very good, as is the joy of sharing the meal with friends and fellow attendees who’ve spent the past three days enjoying the excitement that comes with participating in the Writers’ Police Academy. And, well, the banquet is usually a flawless portion of the event. After all, there’s not a lot to it. People come in and sit, talk, and drink while the chef and staff put the final touches on a delicious meal. Simple, right? Sure, it’s easy if the chef prepares ALL the meals for ALL our attendees. But when he forgets to cook 25 or 30 of those meals and then heads out to a local bar for a night of rapid-fire alcohol consumption, well, that’s a recipe for disaster, and that’s exactly what happened one year.
When I saw the banquet manager heading toward our table, with a worried expression plastered on her face, my first thought was, “What fresh hell is this.” I somehow managed to contain the explosion that wanted to erupt from deep down in my core when she leaned down and whispered the news in my ear. “We do not have enough food for everyone, and the chef has gone for the night.”
As luck would have it, though, the member of the banquet staff we’d immediately sent searching for the preparer of our meals found the chef washing down his troubles with booze at a tavern merely a few blocks from the hotel. It was his regular after-work watering hole, so they’d had a good idea of where to start looking. Our “scout” delivered his slightly inebriated boss back to the kitchen where he oversaw the preparation of the missing meals. Somehow, the meals were completed on time and were tasty.
Again, this all took place behind the scenes, so no one knew this happened, other than Denene and me, and the extremely rattled banquet staff.
We no longer use this hotel.
5. An Extension Cord Made of Gold? – The same hotel mentioned above in #6 wanted to charge us a whopping $300 to use an old extension cord. The bookstore folks needed it to power a device. I gently explained that we would not agree to such an exorbitant fee and, after a call to the manager, the cord was handed over to the bookstore, at no charge. Shoot, I bought my first car for only $400.
4. It’s Only Money … a Lot of Money – Back in the early days of the WPA, one of our former hotels had us settle the entire event bill at the front desk when we checked out on Sunday afternoon. Denene and I stood in line with others who were also checking out and when our time came to handle our business the clerk handed me the bill and said, “Your total is xxx.”
The amount that year was just over $30,000. The couple standing behind us heard the total and when they did the woman said to her partner, “Over thirty thousand! Wow, I wonder how long they were here?”
3. HELP ME! – One late night, one of our attendees exited the hotel elevator on the wrong floor, the basement level where staff offices and other private areas are located. Unfortunately for the attendee, during off hours, this floor is supposed to be inaccessible to hotel guests. As a result, the doors there are locked, and the elevator does not work for return trips to upper levels. It was a fluke that the elevator went there at all.
So, the person was trapped in the darkened basement. Luckily, they were able to call for assistance, but not before sending me a frantic “Help! I’m locked in the basement” message.
2. My Horse Won’t Let Me Go to the WPA – During the past 15 years thousands of writers, and others, have attended the Writers’ Police Academy. Each year, some write to say they’d love to come but they’re unable to do so for a variety of reasons—illness, vacation, child’s graduation, etc. Well, I thought I’d heard every possible reason why someone couldn’t attend until this message arrived.
“I can’t make it this year because I need to use the money to buy horse sperm and it’s expensive.”
Breed the horse to bring a little one into the world, or play cops and robbers for a weekend? The choice was, well, good horse sense.
And the Number One Odd But True Thing That Happened at the Writers’ Police Academy is …
1. We LOST Lisa Gardner! – As most of you know, the Writers’ Police Academy has been blessed with having as our guests of honor, some of the biggest names in the business, such as #1 New York Times bestselling thriller novelist Lisa Gardner.
Lisa not only served as the guest of honor, but she also eagerly participated in classes alongside attendees. In addition to the typical sessions, we arranged for Lisa to go on a nighttime ride-a-long in an unmarked car with an officer who was working a special assignment. The officer, a plainclothes deputy sheriff, was supposed to return Lisa to the hotel by 10 p.m. However, 10 p.m. came and went, as did 11 p.m. I tried calling and texting Lisa, but no response.
11:30 … no Lisa.
11:45 … no Lisa.
I contacted the sheriff’s office and was told they were unable to reach the deputy.
I then had to face reality. We had officially lost Lisa Gardner, our guest of honor and one of the world’s top thriller authors. Her fans would be livid.
Shortly after midnight, though, I received a text from Lisa. It read, “Back soon. On a drug raid. Suspects in custody.”
Lisa’s late-night message was the non-writer equivalent of, “Having a great time. Wish you were here!”
Coming in 2024!
Tina Mott’s Killer Released from Prison, Without Supervision
After serving 25 years in prison (a plea deal) for brutally murdering Tina Mott and mutilating and dismembering her body, Timothy Bradford was released this week into the public. Since he served his full sentence, he is free and without supervision by authorities.
Hamilton, Ohio – June, 1996
It was at 622 Minor Avenue, in the upstairs apartment, where Timothy Bradford slashed the throat of his girlfriend, Tina Mott, killing her.
Bradford claimed that he and Tina had gone fishing earlier in the day and after returning home the couple decided to play a game of Monopoly. At some point during the game, Bradford claimed Tina became angry and charged him. He said he tried to defend himself and while doing so accidentally killed her with a fishing knife he held in his hand.
622 Minor Ave. I captured this photo from across the street while standing in the front yard of the Ruppert house, the scene of the largest family homicide in the U.S. Details of the Ruppert murders are below.
Then, after killing Tina, the mother of their young child, Bradford attempted to cover his tracks and conceal the identity of his victim by placing her body into the bathtub, where he slowly and methodically dismembered her, using a combination of 19 knives, a hacksaw, and a meat cleaver.
Bathtub where Timothy Bradford dismembered and skinned the body of his girlfriend, Tina Mott. I took this photo during a walkthrough of the property.
He also used a pair of needle-nose pliers to remove the teeth. Bradford later scattered most of Tina’s remains in a nearby field and lake. He flushed some of the skin and internal organs down the toilet drain in their apartment.
Two young boys found Tina’s skull while fishing.
Marks on the skull indicated the use of a serrated knife blade to scrape away flesh and tissue.
Tina Mott
While conducting interviews in the area, Tina’s former next-door neighbors told me that after her death they sometimes see her shadow pass by the windows of her apartment. Another neighbor firmly believed that Bradford consumed portions of Tina’s flesh after cooking it on a grill outside on the balcony.
The upstairs apartment where Tina lived and died burned in April 2020. The fire started on the balcony.
*Tina expressed on numerous occasions how spooky it was to live across the street from the Ruppert house, a place where several people were murdered.
Here’s part of Bradford’s confession to police.
Per a negotiated plea agreement, Timothy Bradford was convicted of voluntary manslaughter and abuse of a corpse.
Bradford’s booking photo at the time of his arrest
He was sentenced to 12-25 years for his crimes—Voluntary Manslaughter, Misuse of Credit Cards (He used Tina’s credit card after he killed her), Theft, and Abuse of a Corpse. He entered Ohio’s state prison system on September 24, 1997, just over a year after he murdered Tina Mott. He was denied parole at all hearings
Bradford was mandatorily released on December 6, 2023, after serving his full 25-year sentence.
Timothy Bradford’s inmate photo.
The Ruppert Murders
Hamilton, Ohio – Easter Sunday, March 30, 1975
James Ruppert was an excellent marksman so there was no better way to execute his mother, brother, sister-in-law, and each of their eight kids than to shoot them point blank as if they were nothing more than a row of empty and discarded tin cans. And that’s precisely what he did, starting with his brother Leonard.
Next came Leonard’s wife, Alma, followed by James’ mother, Charity. And, before either of the children could escape disaster, James shot and killed each of them, including four-year-old John, the youngest of the Ruppert brood.
Charity Ruppert, the family matriarch—her midsection a mangled mess, fell to the cold linoleum floor, dead. Her right hand rested above her right breast. The left stretched above her head as if reaching for something just out of her grasp. Her slacks and dress shoes were painted in blood spatter. Her eyeglasses lay beside her on the floor, tangled in her wavy hair. Mouth gaped open. The expression frozen on her face was one of surprise and disbelief. Her eyes stared blankly skyward.
The massacre lasted no more than five minutes.
Leonard Ruppert, his wife, Alma, and their children.
After slaying his family, James positioned his weapons throughout the house, staging the scene much as would a Realtor who carefully and meticulously places items in preparation of showing a house to potential clients.
Then, when he was satisfied that everything all was in order, James called the police and calmly stated, “There’s been a shooting.”
Ruppert crime scene photo – living room
Officer Bob Minor was the officer who responded to the call. Officer Terry Roberts would arrive a few moments later, as backup.
Ruppert home
Officer Minor, no stranger to gruesome homicide scenes, had never witnessed anything close to the carnage he saw inside the Ruppert House—the once neat-as-a-pin living room cluttered with the corpses of Charity Ruppert’s precious grandchildren, and a kitchen so full of dead bodies that Minor couldn’t make his way through without stepping on an arm, leg, or a torso. There was so much blood, Minor later told me, that it had begun to seep through the floorboards, dripping into the basement.
Ruppert crime scene photo – kitchen
James Ruppert was originally found guilty of eleven counts of 1st degree murder. However, on appeal, a three-judge panel found Ruppert guilty only of the murders of his mother and brother. They ruled him not guilty by reason of insanity for the nine other deaths.
Ruppert was sentenced to a minimum of 10 years to a maximum of life for each conviction. The two sentences were to be served consecutively. He entered the Ohio state prison on July 30, 1982.
Ruppert was denied parole at each hearing since the day his incarceration began. His next parole hearing was scheduled for February 2025, just shy of his 91st birthday. However, James Ruppert, inmate A169321, died on June 4, 2022
James Ruppert inmate photo in 2015
James Ruppert inmate photo in 2020
* * *
I wrote about each of these murders and the story, Murder on Minor Avenue, was published in the true crime anthology, Masters of True Crime, Chilling Stories of Murder and the Macabre.
Masters of True Crime is also available as an audio book.
A Cop’s Thanksgiving: Save a Drumstick for Me
Morning parade.
Smiling faces.
Squealing children.
Marching bands.
Turkey.
Pumpkin pie.
Eggnog.
Football.
Pistol. Badge. Vest.
Kiss the kids, please.
And save a drumstick for me.
I’m almost home.
Family.
Traveling.
Traffic.
Bumper-to-bumper.
Smiling faces.
Squealing children.
Grandma’s cooking.
Turkey.
Yams.
Pumpkin pie.
Crackling fire.
Football.
Kevlar. Radios. Sirens.
Kiss the kids, please.
And save a drumstick for me.
I’m almost home.
Drunk drivers.
Speeding drivers.
Texting drivers.
Careless drivers.
Aggressive drivers.
Sleepy drivers.
Depressed drivers.
Distracted drivers.
Reckless drivers.
Road rage.
Horrible crash.
An entire family …
Gone.
Tangled metal.
Little ones.
Mother and father.
A teddy bear.
A doll and a plastic truck.
Those poor children.
They’ll never go home again.
Yes, save a drumstick.
Hug our kids.
Tell them I love them.
I’ll be home,
Later.
10-4.
Send the coroner.
Five victims.
No rush.
I’ll stand by.
Nothing I can do.
Those poor children.
No turkey.
No pumpkin pie.
No football.
Never again.
They were almost home.
Almost home …
Thanksgiving Eve: Lights in the Abandoned Textile Mill
Graveyard Shift … 0246 hours
Thanksgiving Eve.
Weather … Clear
Location … Abandoned textile mill
Victim … Unknown/TBD
Suspect … Unknown/TBD
Dispatch. “Caller reports seeing light, possibly flashlights, inside the abandoned mill on Hwy 666, just south of the city.”
“10-4. I’ll check it out.”
Radio crackles.
“I’m close, 2045. I’ll meet you there.”
“10-4, 2037.”
Cracked asphalt drive.
Gangly weeds pushing through jagged openings.
Brick consumed by untamed vegetation.
Black sky peppered with specks of starlight.
Owl hoots in the distance.
Rats scurrying through tangled coils of honeysuckle and kudzu.
Lopsided door.
One rusty hinge.
Padlock.
Broken chain.
A push and a grunt.
Then a step inside.
Concrete floor.
Broken glass.
Fallen wood and metal.
Lobby.
An office to the left.
A hallway to the right,
A dark cavern.
The yellow beam of a flashlight leads the way.
Breakroom.
Spider webs.
A painted sign.
WEAVING ROOM
Double doors.
Machinery.
Tall and short.
Fat and skinny.
Steel dinosaurs.
Rust and oil stains.
Mouse on a metal table.
Roaches, the size of Fig Newtons.
Light in the distance,
Shining from beneath a closed door.
Another sign.
MAINTENANCE
Quiet.
Eerie.
Guns pointed.
Step forward, slowly.
Shards of glass,
Crunching and cracking under shiny shoes.
Stop.
Listening.
Light, unmoving.
Ease closer.
Water dripping from above.
Plop … plop … plop.
Owl hoots.
Rodents, as big as barn cats,
Rustling through debris.
Hearts pounding,
Beating like drums.
Thump, thump, thump.
Sweat on foreheads.
Slowly open the door.
I to the right.
He to the left.
“Police!”
Silence.
A flashlight on its side,
Painting a yellow triangle across crumbling concrete.
“Police!”
No response.
Drips.
Plop … plop … plop.
Rats.
Rustling, squeaking, scratching.
Owl.
Hoot, hoot, hooting.
Far away train horn,
A haunting, sad wail.
A man.
A steel beam.
A rope.
Overturned chair.
Dress shirt.
Jeans.
Tennis shoes,
One on, one off.
A note.
“I love you, dear wife.
I’m sorry I failed you and our beautiful children.
Tell them I love them too.
This is the only way.
Always remember the good days.”
0342 hours.
Cause of death … possible suicide.
Victim … unknown
Next of kin … a wife and daughters … somewhere.
Owl.
Hoo, hoot, hoot.
Rats, scurrying.
Train horn,
Further down the tracks,
Fading into the night.
If you or someone you know is experiencing suicidal thoughts or a crisis, please reach out immediately to the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-8255.
*Article images by Maryland photographer Sunday Kaminski.
Miranda: I KNOW MY RIGHTS!
“I. Know. My. Rights!”
Officers hear those four familiar words many, many times each and every day all across this great land of ours.
It’s a phrase often spoken by the wisest of the wise–the top legal minds of street corners, sour mash-guzzling patrons of back road honky-tonk juke joints, and professional crack and meth smokers everywhere. It’s forcefully uttered by masked basement keyboard warriors who’re out for their weekly brick- and moltov cocktail-throwing adventures, and by pickup truck cowboys out hee-hawing it up after a night of suds-swigging and two-stepping at Myrtle Mae’s Bar and Grill in the strip mall next to the Sizzler turned Bingo Parlor that closed some six years ago.
More times than I care to count, the person delivering the line is a scrawny, wiry sort of guy who prefers to go shirtless, exposing a set of bony ribs that could replace any xylophone in any symphony in the world. They’re the hoodlum wannabes who guzzle three six-packs of cheap beer followed by six shots of Jack Black as a warmup to their serious drinking. Of course, members of all sexes/genders dive in to offer their own spectacular versions of the diatribe and, like the aforementioned folks, they, too, come in all shapes and sizes and from varied backgrounds.
Lately, though, the famous words have been adopted by the likes of soccer moms, college students, sovereign citizens, kids, grocers, butchers, bakers, and candlestick makers.
But no matter from whose lips it crosses, the message is the same, and it’s shouted and screamed and yelled into the faces of law enforcement officers. Of course, the phrase is often followed by a series of threats, such as …
Well, Mr. Canary-Chest TinyPants, your legal analysis is incorrect, and your threats of violence against well-armed and well-trained officers do very little to intimidate them. Especially when you’ve shown the world the physical attributes you have to back up those strong promises of ass-whuppins.
So let’s examine TinyPants’ claim regarding Miranda and when it’s required.
Miranda
When is a police officer required to advise a suspect of the Miranda warnings?
I’ll give you a hint, it’s not like we see on television. Surprised?
Television shows often have officers spouting off Miranda warnings the second they have someone in cuffs. Not so. I’ve been in plenty of situations where I chased a suspect, caught him, he resisted, and then we wound up on the ground fighting like street thugs while I struggled to apply handcuffs to his wrists. And yes, words were spoken once I managed to get to my feet, but “Miranda” wasn’t one of them. Too many letters, if you know what I mean. Words consisting of only four letters seemed to flow quite easily at that point.
When Is Miranda Required?
Two elements must be in place for the Miranda warning requirement to apply. The suspect must be in custody and he must be undergoing interrogation.
Writers, this is an important detail – A suspect is in police custody if he’s under formal arrest or if his freedom has been restrained or denied to the extent that he feels as if he’s no longer free to leave.
The fellow wearing the handcuffs in the photo below is not free to leave. Therefore, should the officer wish to question him he must advise him of his right to remain silent, etc. However, if the officer decides to not ask questions/interrogate, then Miranda is not required.
I’ve arrested criminals, many of them, in fact, and never advised them of their rights. Not ever. And that’s because I didn’t ask them any questions.
Sometimes officers receive a stack of outstanding arrest warrants for a variety of cases and it’s their job that day to go out and round up those folks. Those officers have no clue as to the circumstances of the crime or case details, therefore they’d not know the appropriate questions to ask. All they know is that the boss handed them a pile of warrants and told them to fetch. This, by the way, is often one of the mundane duties assigned to rookie officers, along with directing traffic and writing parking tickets.
So, the warrant-serving officers locate the person named on the warrant and haul them to the station, or jail, for processing/booking. The officer who had the warrant issued may or may not question the arrested person at a later time. But the arresting officer, the one who played hide and seek with the crook for a few hours on a Monday morning is most likely out of the picture from that point onward. So no questioning = no Miranda.
Interrogation
Interrogation is not only asking questions, but any actions, words, or gestures used by an officer to elicit an incriminating response can be considered an interrogation.
If these two elements are in place officers must advise a suspect of the Miranda warnings prior to questioning. If not, statements made by the suspect may not be used in court. Doesn’t mean the arrest isn’t good, just that his statements aren’t admissible.
Officers are NOT required to advise anyone of their rights as long as they’re not planning to ask questions. Defendants are convicted all the time without ever hearing the police officer’s poem, You Have the Right to …
Miranda facts:
Many officers carry a pre-printed Miranda warning card in their wallets. Here’s a copy of the reverse side of my old Virginia Sheriffs Association membership card (same design, size, and feel of a credit card). I could not begin to count the number of times I’ve used it to read the words to crimincal suspects.
Miranda CardMiranda was released from prison after he served his sentence. Not long after his release, he was killed during a bar fight.
His killer was advised of his rights according to the precedent-setting case of Miranda v. Arizona. He chose to remain silent.
Some individual department/location policies require their officers to advise of Miranda at the point of arrest. However, the law does not require them to do so.
Full event details TBA
www.writerspoliceacademy.com
Sheriffs: Who Are They and What Are Their Duties?
Many of us had our first real look at a sheriff’s office back in 1960 when Andy Taylor and his fearless deputy, Barney Fife, patrolled the roads in and around Mayberry, N.C.
Television took us inside the Mayberry jail, the courthouse, and it even allowed us to ride in the county patrol car. And, for many people, Andy Taylor’s Sheriff’s Office was thought to be the standard.
The things Andy did, well, that’s what a sheriff was supposed to do—fight crime, run the jail, serve the people of the community, spend quality and quiet time with his family and friends—Aunt Bee, Barney, Opie and Miss Ellie and later, Helen, and pickin’ and grinnin’ with the Darlings. Simply a wholesome way of work and play.
But that’s the TV depiction of the life of a county sheriff. Real sheriffin’, however, is a bit different. So, let’s take a brief look at a real-life sheriff and her/his office to see how things differ from the fictional Mayberry department.
First, like Andy, a sheriff is only one person, an elected official who’s in charge of the day-to-day operations of their office.
Because there is only a single sheriff for each jurisdiction, it is in error to call or address the other employees of the agencies as “sheriffs.” This is a common mistake I often hear.
“The sheriff came to my house to deliver a jury summons.”
“Look, here comes a sheriff is driving down the street. Bet she’s going straight to Junior, Jr’s house about them pigs he keeps in the backyard.”
“Two sheriffs went next door and arrested Jim Billy Buck for bustin’ Larry John, Jr.’s jaw with a rusty claw hammer.”
“There are three sheriffs eating donuts and drinking coffee at Delirious Daisy’s Donut Diner.”
So, only one sheriff per office, and, since the sheriff has many responsibilities, they need help to fulfill their duties. Consequently, the sheriff appoints deputies to help with the workload.
Therefore, the drivers of those marked “sheriff’s” cars, the three donut-eaters, arresters of the claw hammer assaulter, jury summons server, and others who work at a sheriff’s office, are typically deputy sheriffs, not the actual sheriff. Unless, of course, the boss happens to be driving one of the marked units, is inside the Donut Diner with two sheriffs from other counties, and decides to serve a jury summons in person (not likely).
Deputy Sheriff
In most locations, deputies serve at the pleasure of the sheriff, meaning they can be dismissed from duty without cause or reason.
Sheriffs in America
There are 3,081 sheriffs in the U.S.
In many areas, the sheriff is the highest-ranking law enforcement officer in the county.
Sheriffs are constitutional officers, meaning they are elected to office by popular vote. Police Chiefs are appointed/hired by a mayor or other officials of a city, such as a city or town council or police commission.
In most states, Sheriffs are elected to four-year terms. Other states require different terms of office, such as a six-year term in one state, a three-year term in another state, and a two-year term in three states.
Generally, sheriffs do not have a supervisor. They don’t answer to a board of supervisors, commissioners, or a county administrator.
Fun Fact – The Los Angeles County Department, the largest sheriff’s department in the world, employs nearly 18,000 budgeted sworn and professional staff. The number of LASD employees is greater than the combined populations of Wyoming counties Sublette and Johnson.
Sheriffs are responsible for:
1) Executing and returning process, meaning they serve all civil papers, such as divorce papers, eviction notices, lien notices, etc. They must also return a copy of the executed paperwork to the clerk of court.
2) Attending and protecting all court proceedings within the jurisdiction.
3) Preserve order at public polling places.
4) Publish announcements regarding the sale of foreclosed property. The sheriff is also responsible for conducting public auctions of foreclosed property.
5) Serving eviction notices. The sheriff must sometimes forcibly remove tenants and their property from their homes or businesses. I’ve known sheriffs who use jail inmates (supervised by deputies) to haul property from houses out to the street.
6) Maintain the county jail and transport prisoners to and from court appearances. The sheriff is also responsible for transporting county prisoners to state prison after they’ve been sentenced by the court.
7) In many, if not most, areas the sheriff is responsible for all law enforcement of their jurisdiction. Some towns do not have police departments, but all jurisdictions, apart from Alaska, Hawaii, and Connecticut, must have a sheriff’s office.
8) In California, some sheriffs also serve as coroners of their counties.
California sheriff’s public display of water patrol and rescue equipment, and a tent with “Coroner” labeling.
9) In most jurisdictions, sheriffs and their deputies have arrest powers in all areas of the county where they were elected, including all cities, towns, and villages located within the county.
10) Sheriffs in the three counties of the state of Delaware do not have typical police powers. Yes, there are only three counties in the state of Delaware.
DELAWARE
§ 2103 SHERIFFS AND REGULAR DEPUTIES.
Sheriffs and deputy sheriffs shall not have any arrest authority. However, sheriffs and deputy sheriffs may take into custody and transport a person when specifically so ordered by a judge or commissioner of Superior Court.
In Delaware, the duties of the county sheriffs and their deputies are:
Sussex County – Serve paper for the courts and holds Sheriff’s sales for non-payment of taxes, mortgage foreclosures plus all other court orders.
New Castle County – Provides service of process for writs issued by the Superior Court, Court of Common Pleas, Court of Chancery, Family Court and courts from other states and countries along with subpoenas issued by the Department of Justice, Department of Labor, and Industrial Accident Board.
Kent County – Service the Citizens of Kent County by performing many functions for the State of Delaware Courts (Superior Court, Court of Common Pleas, U.S. District Court and the Court of Chancery). The Sheriff’s Office serves legal notices to include (subpoenas, levies, summons, etc.) Additionally, the Sheriff’s Office auctions real estate in accordance with the Delaware Code.
The above list of sheriff’s responsibilities is not all-inclusive. Sheriffs and deputies are responsible for numerous duties and assignments in addition to those listed here.
Is It Sheriff’s Office or Sheriff’s Department? What’s the Difference?
Black’s Law Dictionary defines the terms as:
DEPARTMENT: “One of the major divisions of the executive branch of the government … generally, a branch or division of governmental administration.”
OFFICE: “A right, and correspondent duty, to exercise public trust as an office. A public charge of employment… the most frequent occasions to use the word arise with reference to a duty and power conferred on an individual by the government, and when this is the connection, public office is a usual and more discriminating expression… in the constitutional sense, the term implies an authority to exercise some portion of the sovereign power either in making, executing, or administering the laws.”
A Sheriff’s Office is not a “department” of county government. The functions and operation of an Office of Sheriff are entirely and solely the responsibility of the elected Sheriff. The Sheriff is a statutory/constitutional officer who has exclusive powers and authority under state law and/or state constitution. Therefore, a sheriff’s powers are not subject to the directives and orders of a local county government, whereas the heads of county departments are subordinate to the local administration because each department is a division of county government.
In 1889, Sheriff Joe Perry was sworn in as sheriff in St. Johns County, Florida, and he held the office for 26 years. Perry is the longest serving sheriff in Florida history.
National Sheriffs’ Association
The National Sheriffs’ Association (NSA) officially came into being when the organization filed Articles of Incorporation in 1940. However, over 50 years earlier, in 1888, a group of sheriffs in Minnesota and surrounding states joined together to form the Inter-State Sheriffs’ Association. The NSA today is the result of the early group.
The NSA is involved in and provides resources, various programs, training classes, and courses to support and assist sheriffs, deputies, and others in law enforcement and criminal justice.
As of February 15, 2023, NSA has 13,628 active members.
I am one of those members and have been for many years.
Office of Sheriff, Its Historical Roots
“In England, the sheriff came into existence around the 9th century. This makes the sheriff the oldest continuing, non-military, law enforcement entity in history.
In early England, the land was divided into geographic areas between a few individual kings – these geographic areas were called shires. Within each shire there was an individual called a reeve, which meant guardian. This individual was originally selected by the serfs to be their informal social and governmental leader. The kings observed how influential this individual was within the serf community and soon incorporated that position into the governmental structure. The reeve soon became the King’s appointed representative to protect the King’s interest and act as mediator with people of his particular shire. Through time and usage, the words shire and reeve came together to be shire-reeve, guardian of the shire, and eventually the word sheriff, as we know it today.” – National Sheriffs’ Association
It’s Coming. It’s Unique. And IT IS EXCITING!
Full event details TBA
www.writerspoliceacademy.com
A Top 14 List of Odd But True Things That Happened at the Writers’ Police Academy
Here are just a few of the odd things that occurred during the past 15 years of the WPA.
14. Semi-Nude Presenter – Sometimes, we have someone famous announce the winner of the annual Golden Donut Short Story Contest, and they typically do so via video. One year the winner’s name was announced by actor Michael Cudlitz of Band of Brothers, SouthLand, The Walking Dead, and currently Superman and Lois (Cudlitz plays Lex Luthor).
Mike was a bit late in getting the recorded video announcement to me, arriving the day we were due to present the trophy. He followed up by calling to apologize for the tardiness. The delay, he said, was because he’d been filming the TV show SouthLand and the video had slipped his mind.
He went on to say that he’d remembered it after he’d gone to bed the night before and was nearly asleep when it hit him. So, he immediately hopped out of bed, slipped on a t-shirt, and then recorded the brief video, a clip that showed Mike from the waist up. He said the upper body shot was appropriate and 100% necessary since in his haste to make the recording he’d neglected to put on pants; therefore, he was nude from the waist down.
So yes, Michael Cudlitz announced the winner of the WPA Golden Donut Contest while NOT wearing pants. Of course, fans of the TV show SouthLand once saw Mike’s lower half (back side only) during a shower scene.
13. Topless Car Wash – In 2009, the WPA took place at a public safety academy in Jamestown, N.C., and we booked a nearby hotel for sleeping and meeting rooms, and the banquet and reception. Unfortunately, we did not check out the businesses located to the rear of the property. As a result of our poor observation skills, the view many of our attendees were treated to when gazing out from their hotel room windows was that of a quite busy topless car wash. We’ve not made this mistake a second time.
12. Love Story – Two writers met and fell in love at the WPA and later married.
11. Love Story, Part II– Two newlywed writers, not the two from #12, spent their honeymoon at the Writers’ Police Academy.
10. Writers Destroy Equipment – During PIT Maneuver training (Precision Immobilization Technique), a writer/driver connected the right front corner of their patrol vehicle with the left rear of the suspect vehicle’s left rear corner. Well, the object of the technique is to cause the suspect vehicle’s rear tires to lose traction and spin to bring the car to a stop, allowing pursuing officers to apprehend the driver. In this session, however, the writer/driver engaged with a wee bit too much force and ripped off the entire front bumper of their patrol car. During the Saturday night banquet, the instructor presented the mangled bumper to the attendee as an “award” for their remarkable driving skills. PIT Maneuver classes are no longer offered at the WPA. Gee, I wonder why not …
In another accidental incident, a WPA attendee was a little too rough when behind the wheel of the emergency vehicle driving simulator, and, well, they broke it. The initial cost of the simulator exceeded $100,000.
9. No Bra, Do NOT Go to Jail – In past years, we offered tours of county jails, prisons, police departments, and morgues. Since jail and prison tours involved visiting actual housing units where inmates live and were present, WPA attendees were searched before entering the facility. They were not allowed to wear jewelry, carry purses, bags, cellphones or cameras, ink pens, or weapons (of course), and they were to be properly attired—no revealing clothing.
Well, one of the attendees scheduled for the tour was someone whose personal preference was to not wear a chest area undergarment, and the person’s wardrobe selections as upper body wear for the event included only thin shirts/tops. They were refused entry to the jail unless a proper change of clothing was immediately available. So, one of our volunteers managed to produce a bra and shirt, both correctly sized, and all was made well in a matter of minutes. Those volunteers—the “Library Ladies” —were prepared for practically anything that popped up or out or that needed covering.
8. NO FOOD! – We sometimes host a nice Friday night reception that takes place around 7 p.m., complete with delicious hors d’oeuvres and beverages.
Back in the day I typically did not micromanage the reception setups and preparation, as I do for the law enforcement-related activities. After all, what could go wrong with fruit, cheese, and meatballs? You set up a bunch of tables, prepare the food, and then place it on the tables for people to enjoy. That’s it, right?
One would think so, but …
I usually arrive at the reception between 6 and 6:30 to make sure the cash bar and food are in place and that our guests are having a good time. Well, this particular year when I arrived the food was nowhere to be seen. Nor were the tables where the goodies were to be placed. I immediately strolled into the kitchen, a place where no mortal human is supposed to go, to see about the trouble. I saw nothing but empty food prep tables and stovetops. No employees, No chef. Not even a single crumb for a hungry mouse to find for its midnight snack.
I panicked.
I found one of the event set-up people in the back office and explained the situation, quite loudly. He said there were no orders for a reception. Again, I raucously explained the situation. He finally found our reception order on a clipboard and was shocked to see the extensive food list. It was now 6:10 with the reception scheduled to begin at 7. He said there was nothing he could do because there was no food to prepare.
As you know, I would never settle for such an answer. Therefore, I INSISTED that he call someone who could help, and then together he and I went to work. I discovered an entire already-prepared wedding reception feast just sitting in the walk-in cooler waiting for the taking. So, I, along with the set-up guy and three other hotel staff who responded to the call for help, heated the things that needed heating, plated things that weren’t already plated, arranged things that needed arranging, and then carried it all out to the tables that were then waiting in the reception room.
We started the reception ten minutes late, but it was done, and it was scrumptious. Best of all, no one had any idea of the chaos that went on behind those kitchen doors.
7. No Instructors, No Problem – Due to outgrowing one of our host academies we moved to a larger training facility. The new venue was relatively nice with top-of-the-line equipment. However, several instructors who worked there failed to show up on the first day of our event. No advance notice. Nothing. Not a peep. They simply didn’t show up, which left us scrambling to accommodate nearly two-hundred writers. We managed to make use of larger classrooms to shift attendees from the suddenly nonexistent sessions to those that were available. Fortunately, it all worked out and appeared seamless.
But the next day promised to be a repeat of AWOL instructors who’d not taken their commitment to the WPA seriously. So, Denene, the hotel security chief (a former instructor at the academy in question), and I were up that night until 3 a.m. trying to come up with a solution for a potential day two disaster. Luckily, with the security boss’ assistance and several late-night phone calls to contacts and friends, we had instructors to fill in the vacant spots.
The event was a success with no one the wiser as to the hours of agony we’d experienced. We did not return to this academy.
6. Food Shortage and Drunk Chef – Our Saturday night banquets are pleasant, fun affairs. The food is typically very good, as is the joy of sharing the meal with friends and fellow attendees who’ve spent the past three days enjoying the excitement that comes with participating in the Writers’ Police Academy. And, well, the banquet is usually a flawless portion of the event. After all, there’s not a lot to it. People come in and sit, talk, and drink while the chef and staff put the final touches on a delicious meal. Simple, right? Sure, it’s easy if the chef prepares ALL the meals for ALL our attendees. But when he forgets to cook 25 or 30 of those meals and then heads out to a local bar for a night of rapid-fire alcohol consumption, well, that’s a recipe for disaster, and that’s exactly what happened one year.
When I saw the banquet manager heading toward our table, with a worried expression plastered on her face, my first thought was, “What fresh hell is this.” I somehow managed to contain the explosion that wanted to erupt from deep down in my core when she leaned down and whispered the news in my ear. “We do not have enough food for everyone, and the chef has gone for the night.”
As luck would have it, though, the member of the banquet staff we’d immediately sent searching for the preparer of our meals found the chef washing down his troubles with booze at a tavern merely a few blocks from the hotel. It was his regular after-work watering hole, so they’d had a good idea of where to start looking. Our “scout” delivered his slightly inebriated boss back to the kitchen where he oversaw the preparation of the missing meals. Somehow, the meals were completed on time and were tasty.
Again, this all took place behind the scenes, so no one knew this happened, other than Denene and me, and the extremely rattled banquet staff.
We no longer use this hotel.
5. An Extension Cord Made of Gold? – The same hotel mentioned above in #6 wanted to charge us a whopping $300 to use an old extension cord. The bookstore folks needed it to power a device. I gently explained that we would not agree to such an exorbitant fee and, after a call to the manager, the cord was handed over to the bookstore, at no charge. Shoot, I bought my first car for only $400.
4. It’s Only Money … a Lot of Money – Back in the early days of the WPA, one of our former hotels had us settle the entire event bill at the front desk when we checked out on Sunday afternoon. Denene and I stood in line with others who were also checking out and when our time came to handle our business the clerk handed me the bill and said, “Your total is xxx.”
The amount that year was just over $30,000. The couple standing behind us heard the total and when they did the woman said to her partner, “Over thirty thousand! Wow, I wonder how long they were here?”
3. HELP ME! – One late night, one of our attendees exited the hotel elevator on the wrong floor, the basement level where staff offices and other private areas are located. Unfortunately for the attendee, during off hours, this floor is supposed to be inaccessible to hotel guests. As a result, the doors there are locked, and the elevator does not work for return trips to upper levels. It was a fluke that the elevator went there at all.
So, the person was trapped in the darkened basement. Luckily, they were able to call for assistance, but not before sending me a frantic “Help! I’m locked in the basement” message.
2. My Horse Won’t Let Me Go to the WPA – During the past 15 years thousands of writers, and others, have attended the Writers’ Police Academy. Each year, some write to say they’d love to come but they’re unable to do so for a variety of reasons—illness, vacation, child’s graduation, etc. Well, I thought I’d heard every possible reason why someone couldn’t attend until this message arrived.
“I can’t make it this year because I need to use the money to buy horse sperm and it’s expensive.”
Breed the horse to bring a little one into the world, or play cops and robbers for a weekend? The choice was, well, good horse sense.
And the Number One Odd But True Thing That Happened at the Writers’ Police Academy is …
1. We LOST Lisa Gardner! – As most of you know, the Writers’ Police Academy has been blessed with having as our guests of honor, some of the biggest names in the business, such as #1 New York Times bestselling thriller novelist Lisa Gardner.
Lisa not only served as the guest of honor, but she also eagerly participated in classes alongside attendees. In addition to the typical sessions, we arranged for Lisa to go on a nighttime ride-a-long in an unmarked car with an officer who was working a special assignment. The officer, a plainclothes deputy sheriff, was supposed to return Lisa to the hotel by 10 p.m. However, 10 p.m. came and went, as did 11 p.m. I tried calling and texting Lisa, but no response.
11:30 … no Lisa.
11:45 … no Lisa.
I contacted the sheriff’s office and was told they were unable to reach the deputy.
I then had to face reality. We had officially lost Lisa Gardner, our guest of honor and one of the world’s top thriller authors. Her fans would be livid.
Shortly after midnight, though, I received a text from Lisa. It read, “Back soon. On a drug raid. Suspects in custody.”
Lisa’s late-night message was the non-writer equivalent of, “Having a great time. Wish you were here!”
Coming in 2024!
Revolver v. Pistol: Do Your Characters Know the Difference?
Fictional characters aren’t always as savvy as they’d like us to believe. They’re not human. They make mistakes. And some of those errors, especially those made by characters in crime fiction, involve guns. For example, I’ve known a handful of make-believe cops and criminals who didn’t know the difference between smokeless powder and cordite, and that cordite use in ammunition ceased at the end of WWII.
And there’s this, the differences between revolvers and pistols.
Pistol
The term “Pistol” means a weapon originally designed, made, and intended to fire a projectile (bullet) from one or more barrels when held in one hand, and having:
Pistol nomenclature (below).
Revolver
The term “Revolver” means a projectile weapon of the pistol type, having a breechloading chambered cylinder so arranged that the cocking of the hammer or movement of the trigger rotates it and brings the next cartridge in line with the barrel for firing.
Revolver nomenclature (below).
Semi-autos and fully automatic (machine guns) automatically eject spent cartridges. Revolvers DO NOT. Therefore, writers, chances are slim and mostly none of finding empty revolver cartridges at a crime scene. Please remember this when writing the “aha” moment in your WIP.
Fun Stuff
Can you spot the errors in the text below? Hint – there are more than five, and each is something I’ve read in a book or manuscript.
Mr. Heeza Dilly, a former police captain, was a fire arms instructor back in the day. His specialty was handguns and he taught recruits how to shoot them safely and efficiently. He also showed them how to properly fit revolvers with silencers, and how to avoid being hit with hot brass at it’s automatically ejected from the chamber of a revolver.
Of course, he made it a point to highlight the importance of always keeping safeties switched to the ON position on both Glock and SIG Sauer semi-automatic pistols. After all, all cops are always trained to carry weapons with the safeties on, and without a round in the chamber. These rules are no-brainers according to Dilly, because they 100% prevent the accidental discharge of the officer’s fire arm.
Other tips shared by Dilly were:
May you legally own a machine gun (a fully-automatic weapon)? Click here to find out.
*The above pistol and revolver graphics, nomenclature, and accompanying text are from ATF (Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives). Thanks to the folks at ATF for allowing the reproduction and use.
The information in the article above is factual. It’s up to writers to incorporate it into fiction as they see fit, if at all. Keep in mind that, while factually incorrect, many people refer to all handguns as pistols. Therefore, when writing dialog your characters should say things and use terminology readers expect to hear/read. Of course, if the character is a firearms expert …
6 Reasons Why a Detective’s Job Isn’t As Glamorous as You Might Believe
Many people secretly long to clip a badge to their belts and then set out on the never-ending quest to save, well, everyone. But, there are a few things you should think about before giving up your day job to begin the hunt for your first serial killer. I’m betting you just might change your mind once you know that …
Don’t Shake Their Hands!
1. Bad guys and gals are rarely as attractive and well-groomed as those you see on TV. Instead, they often have poor hygiene and smell like really old gym socks.
Some love to flirt with detectives, batting their eyelashes and blowing kisses through breath laced with last night’s vodka and onion dip. Many do really disgusting things when you’re not looking. Like the guy who, when left alone in the interview room, inserted an index finger into a nostril and began working it around like an anteater uses its long, wiggly tongue to forage for termites. When finished with that ghastly task he stuck his hands down the front of his pants, rummaging around down there for a few seconds. Then, when the detective came back inside to continue the questioning, the little darling wanted to shake hands and be all “touchy-feely.” Thank goodness for video cameras. And you wonder why cops don’t shake hands with suspects? Well, now you know.
Roaches and Mice
2. Detectives spend a great deal of their time inside the homes of criminals and victims of various crimes. It’s not unusual, while questioning someone, to see insects suddenly and almost magically appear on your clothing. You then look around to see if you can locate the source of the unexpected attack of creepy-crawlers, and to your horror the walls, ceilings, countertops, and furniture seem to be undulating with a huge sea of brown, antenna-twitching roaches.
When using a flashlight while conducting a search of a closet, for example, it’s not unusual to see and hear hundreds of startled roaches falling from the ceiling to the floor and onto the head and shoulders of the searcher. The sound is much like raindrops hitting a cardboard box, or similar material, during a sudden springtime downpour.
Mice, not wanting to be excluded from the party, peek out from behind a greasy, grime-caked stove topped with a mound of dirty pots and pans. Dozens of tiny rodent footprints crisscross throughout the congealed lard at the bottom of a cast iron frying pan.
Lucky you, the mother of the little darling you think just killed someone offers you a nice, cold glass of iced tea, straight from the refrigerator that’s speckled and spattered with tons of roach feces. The spooky part of the tea offering is that, for a moment you actually considered accepting it because the house has no air-conditioning and it is nearly 100 degrees inside that sweet little abode. But the heat doesn’t stop eight bony, underfed cats from running, playing, puking up hairballs, and spraying and defecating on the furniture and well-worn linoleum floors. Oh, and the icing on the cake is the vast number of fleas that find their way onto your legs to begin gnawing away at your flesh.
Stray Body Parts
3. Investigators are the lucky folks who have the pleasure of enjoying a nice dinner at home with the spouse and kids, and minutes later find themselves standing in a room where some poor soul’s brains drip from his bedroom ceiling. This, because the victim didn’t have the decency to sleep with a man’s wife somewhere other than the married couple’s bed. And the wife, well, she’s blubbering “I’m sorrys” all over the place while her husband is escorted, in handcuffs, to a waiting patrol car.
Meanwhile, detectives have the pleasure of bagging and tagging evidence in the bloody bedroom, taking care not to step on bits of the victim’s skull, teeth, and a left ear. After all, even for you, an experienced homicide detective, it’s still a bit disgusting to get home at 4 a.m. and find a murder victim’s blood on your shirt sleeve, or a piece of the guy’s head stuck to your shoe. Even worse, your spouse makes the gruesome discovery the next day while tidying up.
Puke
4. One of the perks of becoming a detective is that you no longer have to deal with drunks, the little darlings who can be a real pain in the keister, right?
A number of criminals who commit the crime du jour are indeed intoxicated on cheap wine, liquor, or beer, or a combination of the three, or they’re high on something that promotes the undeniable urge to eat a human face.
Unfortunately, they’re often in the same condition when detectives pick them up for questioning. So, combine a lot of drinking and drug use with fear and nervousness and what do you get? Yep, last night’s chili dogs, fries, pickled pigs feet, and chocolate ice cream all over your brand new suit. Not to mention the overflow that spatters your desktop and case files.
Fighting in a Suit
5. Ever try fighting while wearing a suit and shiny shoes? How about wrestling with a 300 lb. angry mom while attempting to get a pair of handcuffs on her wrists, all while rolling around in a muddy driveway? Then, as always, junior and his three sisters jump on the pile, trying to stop you from taking the dear family matriarch into custody. After all, all she did was use a dull meat cleaver to hack grandpa to death.
I’ll be the first to say this … never underestimate the strength of women. They will slap you three ways into Sunday, if you’re not careful.
My jaw still aches today from the times when …
Cars Without Guts
6. Detectives drive really cool cars, like my old dark blue Chevrolet Caprice, the one that would reach its top speed—80 mph—when I held the accelerator to the floor on a three-mile downhill grade. It’s not cool to be in pursuit of a wanted suspect, a guy running from you, and have every patrol car in the area, and a news reporters and cameraperson driving an old VW, pass you as if you were sitting still.
Investigators often get hand-me-down cars, like old patrol cars minus the markings—the cars that are no longer good enough for the streets. Knobs, buttons, and dials are often missing. Radios don’t work. The carpets and seats are stained with urine and puke, so much so that the cloth now feels like dirty canvas. Glamorous, wouldn’t you say?
So, there’s six reasons why it’s really cool to be a detective. And you thought all they did was sit around all day shining those pretty gold badges. Sure, they wipe them down, regularly, but not for the reasons you thought. Nope, they’re actually cleaning off vomit, roach dung, and blood.
Nice day at the office, huh?
SAVE THE DATE!
The Soldier: A Tale of Determination, Survival, and Imagination
Standing ankle deep in black, slimy swamp muck, Sgt. William “Billy” Franks paused to catch his breath and to look over his shoulder, for the umpteenth time.
Nothing moving, not even a leaf. Good.
The humid jungle was silent. Even better.
They were still a ways behind him, he hoped. But they were coming. He knew so because every hair on the back of his neck stood at attention, and the neck-hair test had never been wrong before. Not ever.
Unfortunately, he was confident it wouldn’t be wrong this time, either.
Sgt. Franks was parched. His lips and throat as dry as desert sand, a reminder of the last time he’d been in a serious battle, fighting to survive. Hard to believe that conflict beneath a blazing sun had been only a week ago.
He just couldn’t seem to steer clear of trouble, no matter how hard he tried.
No time to think about it, though.
Not now.
Today’s setting sun had already begun to paint the surrounding landscape in various shades of gray and black. Giant shadows crept slowly across the forest floor, feeding on splotches of light along the way.
Night was coming as fast as they were.
Finding clean water to drink would have to wait.
It was time to move on.
He’d fought the enemy—the entire outfit—all afternoon, before finally escaping into the jungle where he’d been running for hours.
The sergeant’s hair was caked with mud and his camouflaged BDU’s were wet and filthy. His rifle, thankfully, was dry. He was exhausted and unsure how much longer he could continue.
They were relentless in their pursuit and he was sure they were closing in.
He had to find the strength to keep moving.
“I will survive,” he whispered to himself.
Suddenly he heard a voice from beyond the vines and thick, lush plants to his left. He dove for cover behind a moss-covered log. Something large and long slithered away through the undergrowth covering the forest floor.
He heard it again. This time the voice seemed closer.
Knowing his options were now few, he took a quick peek over the rotting tree and saw someone standing in a clearing just beyond the tree line.
They called out again.
“Billy, it’s time to wash up for dinner!”
Sgt. Billy Franks, knowing it would not be in his best interest to dilly-dally, stood and used his hands to brush bits of dirt and dried leaves from his knees. Then he stepped from the small patch of woods into his backyard where his mother stood waiting. He whispered to himself, “Maybe tomorrow I’ll be a cowboy.”
Glancing back over his shoulder he saw a Native American man standing in the shadows. His next adversary appeared ready for battle.
The warrior whose face paint included two opposite-facing arrows, locked eyes with Billy for a second and then faded into the forest. A drumbeat began to thump from a place deep in the woods.
“Tomorrow, Chief, right after I’ve had my Fruit Loops and orange juice, it’s you and me. Because those woods aren’t big enough for both of us.”
Shouldering the stick he used as a pretend rifle, Billy marched toward his mother, wishing he were five again because being six was really hard work.
DIGITAL PUBLISHING ACADEMY
Date: June 24, 2023
Time: 1:00 – 2:30 p.m. EST
This, today and tomorrow morning, is your last chance to sign up to attend the Writers’ Police Academy Online session with Bookouture Commissioning Editor Susannah Hamilton. It’s a fantastic opportunity to learn about the many aspects of digital publishing, and you’ll get the inside details about Bookouture and all they have to offer authors.
You’ll also hear about Bookouture’s submission process (they’re currently accepting submissions, both from agents and directly from writers), and the types of genres they’re looking for, which is an extensive list.
The icing on the cake is that you’ll meet and chat directly with an editor who acquires new books from both new and established authors.
This is the real deal, folks.
By the way, I know a bestselling author who publishes with Bookouture and they’re doing extremely well. I mean … EXTREMELY WELL. They describe the experience as the best they’ve seen in all the years they’ve been a published author.
Bookouture is a division of Hachette UK.
Are you interested in entering the world of digital publishing but don’t know where or how to begin? Well, I’m pleased to announce and offer an exciting Writers’ Police Academy Online course—Digital Publishing Academy. This class is a unique opportunity for writers to learn from and chat with a top industry professional, Commissioning Editor Susannah Hamilton of Bookouture, a division of Hachette UK. So, if you’ve wanted a foot in the door to a leading publisher, here’s your chance!
About the Course
Digital Publishing Academy
Date: June 24, 2023
Time: 1:00 – 2:30 p.m. EST
Registration: $15
Bookouture Editor Susannah Hamilton will talk about all things digital publishing, including what works well in digital, a look at the different stages of editing, and a brief foray into crime and thriller genre nuances for the digital market. Susannah will also give a brief overview of how Bookouture, a division of Hachette UK, works for its authors. There will be a Q&A at the end.
Click the link below to reserve your spot!
writerspoliceacademy.online
About Susannah Hamilton
Commissioning Editor Susannah Hamilton has over ten years of experience in the industry, and joined Bookouture in November 2021. Susannah’s list includes Kindle top 100 bestselling authors, such as Casey Kelleher, Elisabeth Carpenter and Amanda Lees, who have reached the charts in both the UK and the US. Susannah manages every element of the publishing strategy and process for her authors, supporting them every step of the way.
Cow-9 Units: Using Bovines to Track and Capture Fleeing Criminals
“Stop, or I’ll release the cow!” Officer Harold “Moo” Collins, the department Cow-9 handler, yelled as the burglary suspect headed toward a wooded area after breaking free from the two patrol cops who’d apprehended the thief.
The man could’ve been a track star, because at the sound of Collins’ voice he hit second gear and all that was seen of him after that point were the bottoms of his Chuck Taylors, one at a time as each foot lifted from the pavement, and two arms furiously pumping back and forth like the mechanical drive rods on each side of a speeding steam locomotive. He was in “feet don’t fail me now” mode.
“That’s right. Nobody wants to tangle with my attack cow, right Clarabelle?” said Collins as he opened the rear door to his patrol car to send the highly trained and aggressive Holstein-Friesian bovine in hot pursuit of the fleeing felon. “Find him, girl!” he said after delivering a playful pat to the animal’s hip.
“Don’t worry, she always gets her man,” he said to his two forlorn and ashamed peers who’d failed to hold on to the slippery stealer of other people’s property.
I know, the scenario above sounds a bit silly and farfetched. I mean, come on. Police cows?
However …
Just last week in Boone N.C., a town named after American pioneer Daniel Boone and that’s home to Appalachian State University, local officers and sheriff’s deputies were in engaged in a vehicle pursuit of a man who fled from a traffic stop. The man eventually abandoned his vehicle and ran into an undeveloped area containing wooded bits and a pasture. Due to the suspect’s high speeds and reckless driving, the pursuing officers were not close enough to him at the time he hopped out of his car to see which direction he’d traveled on foot. So they began a search but were unable to immediately locate him.
But help would soon arrive.
Yes, you guessed it. Their help came in the form of a herd of cows who were not at all pleased to have a potentially dangerous criminal hiding out in their neighborhood. They simply would not stand for that sort of nonsense and they meant to do something about it.
The pack of bovines approached the officers and were quite vocal and insisted that the cops follow them. So they did, and the cows led the parade of officers straight to where the suspect was hiding. The man was arrested, again, and transported to jail where he was charged with felony fleeing, eluding arrest with a motor vehicle, driving with a license revoked, and disorderly conduct.
Afterward, the department released a statement expressing their gratitude to the cows for their much-appreciated assistance. But they didn’t stop there, deciding to take things a step further by examining the possibilities of adding a Bovine Tracking Unit to their team.
First, though, they’d need to study the logistics of doing so, such as how they’d transport the Cow-9s to crime scenes, the costs associated with training the animals and veterinary care, and who’d fabricate their extra-extra-extra large ballistic vests. Then, there’s the problem of where in the patrol car to store the large pooper-scoopers needed for, well, you know, and what to do about the methane.
Since the animals’ assistance with locating the suspect was such a “moooooving” experience they thought they owed it to the cows to see if they could work it out.
The statement about adding a Bovine Tracking Unit to the department was a tongue-in-cheek comment. But hey, you never know. After all, a Vietnamese miniature potbellied pig called Harley was once used by Portland police to sniff out drugs.
Enter the Writers’ Police Academy’s 2023 Golden Donut Short Story Contest
Here’s a fantastic opportunity to get your writing in front of a top publisher!
Yes, Bookouture, a dynamic digital publisher of bestselling commercial fiction and a division of Hachette UK, is the official judge of the 2023 Writers’ Police Academy’s Golden Donut 200-word Short Story Contest.
So sharpen your pencils and fire up the computers. It’s time to put your imaginations to work.
The contrast rules are simple. Write a story about the photograph below using exactly 200 words, including the title. Each story needs an original title, and the image must be the main subject of the story. No clues as to the subject matter of the image or where it was taken. You decide. Let your imagination run wild. Remember though, what you see in the image absolutely must be the main subject of your tale.
Contest winner receives the Golden Donut Trophy!
*Proceeds are used to help with the massive expense of producing the 2023 Writers’ Police Academy.
GoldenDonutShortStoryContest
About Bookouture
We are a dynamic digital publisher of bestselling commercial fiction and a division of Hachette UK. We also publish commercial non-fiction under our Thread imprint.
Our unique publishing model and transformative campaigns have created unrivalled international author brands. We connect stories, authors and readers globally, publishing books that reflect the diversity of the societies we live in.
Our submissions are always open as we believe that everyone should have the opportunity to share their story. Over 60 million copies sold worldwide.
www.bookouture.com
NEW, FROM WRITERS’ POLICE ACADEMY ONLINE
DIGITAL PUBLISHING ACADEMY
Are you interested in entering the world of digital publishing but don’t know where or how to begin? Well, I’m pleased to announce and offer an exciting Writers’ Police Academy Online course—Digital Publishing Academy. This class is a unique opportunity for writers to learn from and chat with a top industry professional, Commissioning Editor Susannah Hamilton of Bookouture, a division of Hachette UK. So, if you’ve wanted a foot in the door to a leading publisher, here’s your chance!
About the Course
Digital Publishing Academy
Date: June 24, 2023
Time: 1:00 – 2:30 p.m. EST
Registration: $15
Bookouture Editor Susannah Hamilton will talk about all things digital publishing, including what works well in digital, a look at the different stages of editing, and a brief foray into crime and thriller genre nuances for the digital market. Susannah will also give a brief overview of how Bookouture, a division of Hachette UK, works for its authors. There will be a Q&A at the end.
Click the link below to reserve your spot!
writerspoliceacademy.online
About Susannah Hamilton
Commissioning Editor Susannah Hamilton has over ten years of experience in the industry, and joined Bookouture in November 2021. Susannah’s list includes Kindle top 100 bestselling authors, such as Casey Kelleher, Elisabeth Carpenter and Amanda Lees, who have reached the charts in both the UK and the US. Susannah manages every element of the publishing strategy and process for her authors, supporting them every step of the way.