7 comments/ 14954 views/ 7 favorites The Eightfold Fence Ch. 01 By: WifeWatchman The chronological order of my stories is as follows: Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10, The Murdered Football Player Series, Case of the Black Widow series, Teresa's Christmas Story, The Case of the Black Badge series, A Case of Revenge series, Teresa's Summer Race, The Trilogy series, Dark Side Of The Force series, Caught In The Act series, Case of the Murdered Bride series, The Credit Card Caper series, The Hot Wives Investment Club series, Seriously Inconvenienced series, Case of the Paper Trail series, Christmas Mystery Theater, The Porno Set Mystery series, The Medical Murder Mystery series. The Eightfold Fence, Ch. 01. Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas. This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above. ***** Part 1 - Prologue (Author's note: this story is something like the Interludes, with background and set-up material for the big stories to come, culminating in the Summer (story's Summer, that is) climax. Please enjoy it and look for the clues...) Eightfold rising clouds build an eightfold fence an eightfold Izumo Province fence wherein to keep my bride— oh! splendid eightfold fence -Attributed to the god Susanoo. This is the first poem to be found in the kojiki, the oldest anthology of Japanese poetry. Police Lieutenant Cindy Ross sat in front of her computer at her bedroom desk in her apartment on Sunday, January 11th. She was researching the latest information that had come up, using the special website and access Laura Fredricson had given her. She coughed, wincing at the pain in her lung, the one that had been damaged when she'd been wounded the previous July. Why the pain had suddenly flared up in the past week, she didn't know. "Cindy, you have a visitor." she heard Jenna Stiles call out from the breakfast room table, where Jenna was surrounded by more legal briefs than Cindy had ever seen in one room before, including at the Courthouse. A moment later, Don's mom Phyllis knocked on her door. "Hello, my dear." said Phyllis, bearing a large thermos. "I brought you some of my special homemade soup. Jenna and Teresa both mentioned that you were coughing the last couple of days." "Oh, thank you, Phyllis." Cindy said, gratefully and tiredly. "I don't think I'm sick, though. Teresa and I started training for the triathlon this coming July 4th. I think I just overdid it a bit." "I see." said Phyllis, her pale blue eyes peering at the younger woman. "This soup will make you feel better, and give you more energy for your training as well. So, what are you working on?" "Soup is good food, and an excuse to help me with my research, eh?" Cindy asked, knowing this was the real reason Phyllis had stopped by. "But I'm glad you're here. I'm researching some of the people that Don said might possibly be the so-called 'real Moriarty'." "Which includes my grandson, I believe." said Phyllis. Seeing Cindy's look of shock, Phyllis said "My dear, I am not unaware of what is happening around me. My daughter has been involved in an international drug ring for years now, and I don't think my son truly knows the extent of his sister's perfidy. Additionally, Don had no choice but to resort to the elimination of my other grandson, Todd's maliciously wicked brother Ned. So I'm perfectly aware of the criminal elements in my family... and I could keep you distracted all day with stories of some of the wolves in Don's bloodline... on his father's side, of course." "Why don't you tell me some of those stories while I drink this soup?" Cindy suggested, wanting to hear the stories. "We'll save some of those for the right time." Phyllis said, then added as a distraction: "Meanwhile, perhaps I can help with your research. What are you finding out?" "Well, some of it's classified, and I hope you understand when I say I can't talk about that." Cindy said. "Of course, dear." Phyllis said, her eyes twinkling. "So, who is on your list of 'Moriarty' candidates?" "Well, your grandson Todd is indeed on the list," Cindy said, "and I guess this shows why a good Detective has to keep an open and unbiased mind. Todd is a bit childlike... Teresa says he's immature and hasn't really grown up yet... but he has managed to form a technology company and really get it rolling, get money for it, and lead it... and I can't attribute all of that to his father, Michael Burke. Todd is getting inflows of money from private sources, which are set up as venture capitalists... but then I start looking into them, and I can't get info on them from internet searches or even police search means. I have to go to the classified databases, and even those are a bit spotty." "Nothing criminal, there." Phyllis said as she poured Cindy's cup full of soup, her words intending to get Cindy's flow of words continuing. "No ma'am." said Cindy. "Mmm, this is good soup... anyway, Todd's been traveling a little bit. He went to Japan twice, Malaysia and Singapore on one trip, and Silicon Valley twice. Don never mentioned it, and I never noticed Todd was gone, either." "Interesting." Phyllis said, not mentioning that it was her, Phyllis, that had helped Todd's wife Jeanine care for little Jack and little Doug while Todd was traveling... Part 2 - Todd Burke On the late afternoon of Friday, January 9th, Todd and Jeanine were driving up to Lake Amengi-Nunagen to visit Todd's father, Michael Burke. Their children were being cared for on this night by Jeanine's partner Tina Felton, and would be kept over the weekend by Laura, Don, and Phyllis. "So you think my dad wants to get into your panties?" asked Todd. "Is that why he invited us up to his place this weekend?" "He's wanted to fuck me since he met me back when I was first dating Tim." said Jeanine. "And since you and I have talked about swinging and swapping, and with me in my current 'condition', it might be an ideal time for us to try that out." "I figured our first swap would be with Uncle Don and Aunt Laura." Todd said. "But I guess this'll be okay... now that you're pregnant. But do you think my dad's girlfriend... his former secretary that he's been banging for years... will be interested in swapping?" "I don't know." said Jeanine, not telling her young husband all that she knew about what awaited them at Michael Burkes place in the mountains near Lake Amengi-Nunagen. "All I know is that while you were flying home from Japan, Michael called and said he'd made some arrangements for us this weekend." "Dad's changed since Eleanor was put away." Todd said. "He used to get off being her cuckold. Aunt Laura said it was a 'relief valve' after being in charge of his business and all those people, and that many top executives get off by being cucked or tied up or whipped, etc. BDSM stuff. Uncle Don said Henry Wargrave was like that, too... had to be in bondage to get it up at all, but now the great billionaire Wargrave can't get it up at all, not even with Viagra. I doubt Dad has a problem getting it up, but I wonder if he's changed in his sexual habits now that he's retired." "Me, too." said Jeanine. "But your father was... and is... a strong businessman, and I heard he seduced some of his competitor's wives and made simpering wimp cuckolds out of those guys. So he just might just become the aggressor this weekend. How would you like being the cuck?" "That's not for me." Todd said. "But I guess I can fuck his girlfriend if he and you start hitting it off." Jeanine could not tell Todd's feelings about this situation, and she had little time to ask her young husband about it: they were arriving. They had pulled off the main road onto the side road leading to the ring of cabins around the lake, and it was a short drive to Burke Cabin. As they pulled into the driveway of a nice A-frame house with large windows that overlooked a scenic vista with the lake in the distance below, Todd observed two extra cars in the driveway. One was an older model Mercedes, painted white; while the other was a Toyota Camry that was well-worn with age and use. "Hmm, they have other company." Todd astutely observed. "Wonder who's here?" "Let's find out." Jeanine said as she got out of the car. As Todd got out, he looked around warily. Everything seemed fine, but certain instincts within him, instincts that served his uncle, his mother and his grandmother, were giving him a 'gut feeling' that something wasn't 'normal'. "Ah, there you two are!" called out a voice from the door. It was Michael Burke, looking fit and vigorous, his white hair almost glowing in the waning light as the sun sank behind the hills to the west. "We've been waiting for you. Come on in." Michael hugged Jeanine, giving her a kiss on the cheek, then shook Todd's hand firmly. Once inside, both Todd and Jeanine got a surprise when they saw the two women in the living room. They were both very beautiful. One woman was short, buxom, with a great figure and auburn hair, almost brown, and she was in her late 20s. Her real name was Nicole Stanton, but she went by the pseudonym of 'Dawn Starrett'. It was the other woman whose presence dominated any room she was in. She was in her upper 30s in age, and was nearly six feet tall, almost as tall as Professor Laura Fredricson. Her mane of hair was blonde and fell in gentle waves about her shoulders. Her body was toned by exercise, and she had had only a bit of breast enhancement to complete her magnificent rack. Her taut waist gave way to saucy hips, a firm heart-shaped ass, and exceptionally shapely legs and feet, especially in the high heel pumps she was wearing. "Cherie! Gosh, it's been so long!" said Todd involuntarily. "Ah, you know her?" asked Michael, knowing full well of the relationship between Cherie Ward and his son Todd. "Oh yes, we've met." said Todd. He went forward and gave the blonde a warm hug. "It's good to see you again, Todd." Cherie said, now that Todd had acknowledged her. "You look better than ever." "So do you." said Todd, then remember his manners. He introduced his wife Jeanine, and Michael introduced Cherie and Nicole. "Uh, Dad, where is Betty?" Todd asked, looking around. "All in due time." said Michael. "Let's have a drink before dinner." "Not too much for Jeanine." said Todd mischievously. "Oh?" said Michael, whirling around. "Todd!" Jeanine cried out. "You just cannot keep a secret, can you?" As Todd grinned like a troublesome schoolboy, Jeanine turned to Michael and said "That's what we came up here to tell you, Michael: I'm pregnant." "Oh, that's so wonderful!" Michael said, coming forward and warmly hugging his daughter. But Todd noticed a seemingly strange look cross his father's face, fleeting and only for a moment. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "So, Betty left for the West Coast. California." said Michael to Jeanine after dinner, as they looked out the window into the blackness of the winter night. They were in the glass-enclosed room that had once been an outdoor patio. Todd was sitting between the other two women on the sofa in the greatroom, facing a warm fireplace. Michael had refurbished this cabin, and it was simply but very luxuriously appointed throughout. "She claimed to have family she was going to visit there." said Michael. "But that was the first I ever heard of her having family. Maybe she was expecting I would marry her after the divorce from Eleanor was final, and I have you to thank for that." Jeanine smiled as Michael continued "But she's out there now." "What part of California did she go to?" Jeanine asked, looking at Michael, admiring her father's handsome face and impressive physique. They had been stealing glances at each other all through dinner, Todd seemingly none the wiser as he kept the attention the other two woman. Jeanine could see where her husband got his good looks, and she felt her loins melting as she studied Michael and wondered how good in bed he was. "Silicon Valley, I believe." said Michael. That turned a gear in Jeanine's mind. "You didn't ever catch her going through your papers, did you?" the beautiful woman asked. "She was my personal secretary for years, so of course she had access to all my papers." Michael responded. "Why do you ask?" "Todd is always concerned about industrial espionage." Jeanine replied, not giving her full reasons. "I just wondered that, now that you're retired, she moved on to fresh pickings." Michael look as if he were struck by the thought. "I... I seriously doubt Betty did anything like that while working for me." he said. "I'm pretty sure of it." Jeanine was watching the older man's handsome face, and wondered if for just a second she saw something in it... worry. Naah, I'm looking for what I want to see, not what's there, she thought to herself. Michael partly misread her look at him, but he still made his gambit. "And you, Jeanine? You're looking more beautiful than ever." "And you're looking even more handsome yourself, Michael." Jeanine replied. She stepped up to her father and slid her hands up his pectorals through his shirt. "You've been working out, keeping fit... verrry nice." She tilted her face up to him in offering. Michael slid his hands around his daughter's slender waist and bent down to kiss Jeanine. Their lips slid together in a gentle kiss, then a deeper one. Their passions began to rise as they mashed their mouths together. Michael's tongue probed Jeanine's mouth, sliding practically into her throat, and Jeanine slid her tongue around his. After a long moment, they broke the deep kiss and headed back to the greatroom. Michael headed for the door to the hallway as Jeanine paused to refill the wine glasses of Todd and the two women. They were cuddled on either side of Jeanine's young husband, their hands caressing his thighs, abs and toward his powerful chest. Jeanine knew that Todd would be well taken care of. "Todd, your father is going to give me a tour of the house." Jeanine said, seemingly not in the least bothered by her husband carousing with these 'professional' ladies. "Okay, babe, sure." Todd said, looking up at his wife, seeing the sparkle in her eyes. He watched as Jeanine left the room and joined his father in climbing the stairs, seeing the hot and steamy purpose in their eyes... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Todd's tongue twined with the tall blonde woman Cherie's as they shared open mouth French kisses. The auburn-haired Nicole had Todd's pants unzipped and his huge cock out, and was sucking the young stud's massive member as deeply as she could. Todd enjoyed the sensations, but as he kissed Cherie and felt her body in his left arm, he knew what he wanted this night. Breaking the kiss, he looked down as Nicole's head bobbed up and down as she fellated him. "Nicole..." he said quietly. She stopped sucking and looked up at him. "Tell you what, you can go ahead and go home. I'll make sure you get paid the full amount my dad promised you, but I'm not going to be able to handle both of you tonight." "Okay." Nicole said dispassionately. If she had any disappointment about being asked to leave, she didn't show it. She was getting paid, in fact she already had been. She got up, gathered her purse, and a moment later Todd heard her car being cranked and leaving. Meanwhile, Cherie had bent over and was now sucking Todd's cock, sliding her full, lipsticked lips up and down the long, thick shaft of his ten inch manhood. Todd let her suck him for several minutes, then her curiosity finally got the better of her. "So, why did you send Nicole home?" she asked. "You can handle three or four women, if I remember correctly." "I just want to hang out with you tonight, babe. Like for old times sakes." Todd replied. "Did my dad know that you and I knew each other when he hired you?" "Not that I'm aware of. He didn't mention it." Cherie said. She resumed sucking the huge cock in front of her, reveling in its size and throbbing power. A moment later she asked "Shall we head up to bed?" "Sure... I wonder where my dad and my wife have gone off to." Todd said. He stood up and put his cock back inside his pants, difficult as that procedure was. Arm-in-arm, they headed up the stairs. The door to his father's bedroom was cracked a couple of inches, and they heard moans from inside. Ever curious, Todd went to the door and pushed it, and the door swung all the way open. Inside, and incredibly arousing sight greeted the young man and the tall, hot blonde. Jeanine was lying naked on the bed, wearing only her high heel pumps. Her feet were high in the air, her legs spread wide open. Between those long, shapely legs lay her father Michael. He was naked, his aging but still very muscular body in a push-up position. His nine-inch cock was buried balls-deep inside his daughter-in-law's vagina, and their pelvises were pressed tightly together. Todd saw the beginnings of a grin on Michael's face as he watched the older man grind his loins against Jeanine's, demonstrating his sexual prowess as well as his total sexual conquest of his son's wife. Michael and Jeanine did not stop the grinding undulations of their hips as their audience looked on. "Your wife is an excellent houseguest, son." Michael said. "She knows how to thank a man for his hospitality." Todd heard the words, but was not looking at his father. His eyes were locked with his wife's. "I'll see you in the morning, Todd." Jeanine said, something of a leering smile on her beautiful face, her eyes sparkling. Todd grinned and leaned forward to grab the door handle and close the door. He took Cherie's taut waist in his strong arm and guided her to the guest bedroom. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Todd groaned as he pistoned his huge meat in and out of Cherie's deep wet cunt with short thrusts, sheathing his full length inside her before partially withdrawing and slamming forward again. Cherie was meeting him thrust for thrust, using her years of professional expertise as a prostitute to bring him maximum pleasure. But unlike the thousands of other men her pussy had pleasured, she allowed Todd to bring her the deep orgasms she craved but rarely had, and she had taken him bareback, the only man she'd allowed such an honor in many years. She felt Todd's cock pulsing, knowing is release was building. "Do you need to come?" she asked, more of a throaty gasp than actual words. "I'm close, baby... where do you want it, your mouth or your pussy?" Todd asked. "My pussy." the beautiful blonde replied. "Come inside me." To emphasize her point. she wrapped her long, slender, strong legs around the young stud and held him tightly as he rode her hard. Todd fucked her furiously, and it was only seconds later that he gasped out and climbed her all the way. "OH GOD, I'M COMING!" he yelled out as he sank his cock into her, bottoming out, and climaxed, the first huge spurt of semen blasting out of his man-cannon and deep into her pulsing pussy. More spurts coated her cervix as Todd emptied his huge balls into the writhing blonde beneath him until he was totally spent. "Wow, that was a huge cum." Cherie said lovingly, impressed, as Todd fought to catch his breath. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you haven't had any pussy in a month." The Eightfold Fence Ch. 01 "That's just how good your pussy is, baby." Todd said. He leaned down and kissed Cherie, their tongues twining into a deep kiss for long moments as they settled down. Todd was thinking of how Cherie had easily taken his full length. Only one other woman had taken his full length nuts-deep, and that was his Uncle Don's wife, Laura Fredricson. Don was one hell of a lucky man, Todd thought. Even Melina had not quite been able to take him entirely. The thought of Melina brought a flicker of torment back to Todd's heart and mind, and he worked hard to move past it, thinking of his wife and kids... he allowed himself to think of the scene he'd just witnessed, his father on top of his wife, her sexy legs and feet in the air as she took Michael's size... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Michael and Jeanine shared a deep tongue-twister of a kiss as they settled down. He had just come inside his daughter, filling her with his potent load that would regrettably find no egg to fertilize. "I'm happy that you're pregnant," Michael said between gentle kisses, "but I have to admit that I was hoping to knock you up myself tonight." "Mmmm, well, I'm not going to complain." Jeanine said. "I had one child by one of your sons, and now I'm going to have your other son's baby. You'll just have to wait your turn." She smiled up at her father. He bent down and kissed her, sliding his tongue into her mouth. "I waited long enough for this moment, to make love to you." Michael said, finally coming up for air. "After you have this baby, I want to put the next bun in your oven." Jeanine smiled dreamily. "Mmmmm, that does sound nice." she whispered. "We'll just have to see what happens." Michael looked down at the gorgeous woman beneath him, feeling her body against him as he lay on top of her. He remembered how he had ached to fuck her even in the days she was dating Eleanor's son Jimmy ('Tim' to Jeanine), and how his lucky son Jack had seduced this woman, deflowered her and deeply fucked her. Thoughts of Jeanine had obsessed Michael's very being for all those years, all those years of BDSM slavery to Eleanor, all those years of deeply fucking his secretary Betty every day, of his occasional power fuck with women executives with whom he was negotiating... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Mmmmm..." Cherie moaned happily as she and Todd cuddled. "Just like the good old days, eh?" "Yeah." Todd replied. "The good old days... what, hardly even four years ago?" "Maybe a bit longer." Cherie said. "I always wondered if you were really eighteen when you started working in those women's clubs." In Todd's early college days, he had been a male stripper at all-women's clubs, and did CFNM parties. He had his big cock sucked by numerous women, and a few took him inside their warm, wet pussies. He'd also been handsomely paid by the husbands of several trophy wives that he would fuck in front of those cuck hubbies. One night, he happened to leave a club just as a beautiful blonde was leaving a nearby men's club. Cherie had come up to him and said hello, that she'd seen him in the women's club before. They went to a diner to eat; it was 3:30am and they were both starving. He was barely of legal age and she was in her 30s, but they really hit it off. They did not have sex that night, but did meet at the diner several more times, and then Todd asked her to dinner. They spent the rest of that night making love in her apartment, and had sex frequently after that... when they could find the time between her professional appointments and his schoolwork and 'other' work. It was pleasant and pleasurable, but as Todd moved through school and other interests took him away from her, he and Cherie saw less and less of each other. It had been over a year since he'd last seen her at all. "Funny how my dad picked you for this weekend." Todd said sleepily. "As if he knew of our past relationship." "I wonder if he knows..." Cherie began, and then stopped short. "Knows?" Todd encouraged her. Cherie turned to face Todd. "I heard somewhere that your parents, well, your dad and Eleanor, were really searching hard for information about your brother Jack, is that right?" "Uh, yeah, someone had a P.I. getting info about him. Not much to tell, there." Todd said, lying about the depth and importance of the info obtained. "Well, I wonder if anyone found out that you and I have another thing in common... besides being good in bed together and our sexual relationship." "What's that?" Todd asked. "You know the woman that your brother was in bed with when they were murdered?" Cherie asked. "Marie Arruzio?" "Uh, yeah, what of her?" Todd asked. Her next words shocked him fully awake. "She was my sister." Cherie said. "Your brother and my sister were murdered together, in the same bed, by her husband." Part 3 - Seth Warner "I'm still having a very tough time seeing Todd as a bad guy." said Cindy to Phyllis. "And an even tougher time with Seth Warner." "Oh, now he's an interesting young man." Phyllis said, not mentioning that she, Phyllis, had sampled Seth's considerable sexual talents on a few occasions. Cindy didn't need it to be mentioned; she well knew already that Phyllis was enjoying the well-hung young men of the County. "Yes." Cindy said. "His sister Karen is very beautiful, very promiscuous, and potentially a very bad seed. She married Brian Harlan a few weeks before he died, and she's been seen having lunches with Mr. Ward of Ward Harvester several times. Her mother is in prison, as well, and you know who her and Seth's biological father is." "Jonas Oldeeds." said Phyllis. "A truly despicable man." "My business partner also didn't think much of him." Cindy said drily, her sarcastic wit coming to the fore: neither woman had to say out loud that Cindy's gym partner and Phyllis's ex-daughter, now Melina Allgood, had exterminated the Reverend Jonas Oldeeds with extreme prejudice, via two brilliant sniper shots from 800 yards away. "But Seth seems to be the the good guy, the swan surrounded by the ugly ducklings." Cindy said. "Maybe Don is like that in your family, Phyllis?" "It would appear to be the case, at least on his father's side." said Phyllis, seeing right through Cindy's attempt to get her to talk about Don's family's bad apples. "But we'll discuss that at another time. Tell me more about Seth Warner." "He's now a business partner with Todd Burke and Barry Oliver in BOW Enterprises." Cindy said. "He's on the verge of winning the lawsuit against his sister and mother, and if he does, the Board will be able to sell out Dynacorp to BOW. Seth has also begun dating one of my police officers, Joanne Cummings, and they have become a hot item... a very hot item... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Oh, he's so wonderful!" Joanne had gushed to Cindy several days earlier, as the women finished up their physical training in the Police Headquarters gymnasium. Cindy had been training Joanne in 'defense' techniques, simplified martial arts routines that would make Joanne a much more capable fighter for those times when the need would arise. And the need would arise, eventually. Joanne had proved to be a capable student. Though she looked slender and not all that strong, she was firm, toned and with Cindy's training was learning how to properly channel the power of her body to maximum effect. They were even doing some crowbar battles, and Joanne was learning the full devastating power of not only Cindy but the Iron Crowbar's use of that excellent weapon. "You and Seth have really hit it off, eh?" Cindy said, happy for Joanne. "Oh yes..." Joanne said, remembering the night before, in Seth's arms... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Seth was pumping his large cock in and out of the blonde beauty beneath him, his hands clutching Joanne's luscious asscheeks and his lips kissing and sucking at her neck and cheek as he rammed it home again and again into the extremely tight wetness of her clutching cunt. He still could not believe how lucky he was that this beautiful woman and come into his life... and at the time he most needed it. His beloved Aunt Katherine had betrayed him to his mother and his filthy, evil bitch of a sister. She was not his aunt by blood, and in his years of puppy love with her he had dreamed of marrying her and having children. Seth looked like a party animal kind of guy, and he'd had his fair share of hot and beautiful women of all ages, but in reality he just wanted to settle down with his true love, raise his kids and play with his dogs, etc. Now, his meat was buried into the hottest, tightest, sweetest cunt he'd ever felt, and she wasn't just a piece of ass: she was this beautiful, loving, sweet young woman that was a policewoman (of all things) and was even smarter than she was beautiful. "Oh yes, come inside me!" Joanne would gasp out as Seth came... every time he came, she was urging him on. "Yes! Oh yes, give it to me, give me every drop of that wonderful baby-making sperm!" This extremely religious girl could talk as filthy dirty as any sailor in a bar, Seth noted. It was one of the things that turned him on about her. Once his climax was over and they were cuddling, Joanne said "I can't tell if the sex is so good because I'm so in love with you, are if you're just that good in bed!" It was a line she used to tease him, not realizing that it was some of both that made it so good for both of them. "Were you as in love with the other guys you were with?" asked Seth. To his surprise, Joanne settled down... she wanted to talk, so he let her. "You know, my first time was when I was sixteen." Joanne said. "Oh, I thought I was going to wait until marriage, and that premarital sex was sinful and all that stuff, but then I met Jack." "Jack?" Seth asked. "Yes..." said Joanne, "and yes, he's the 'Jack' that was the brother of your business partner Todd." Joanne said. "I didn't know that at the time, of course, though I later realized I could see the resemblance when I saw Todd. Anyway, Jack was really handsome and charming and he was in my pants before I hardly knew what was happening. I didn't mind, though... I wanted to fuck him like nothing I'd ever wanted before. I don't know what came over me, but I wanted him inside me." Joanne continued: "He was even bigger than you are, and I was afraid he'd hurt me, but he was so gentle and loving when he took my cherry, and I was able to take almost all of him. After I got used to it, it felt really great... almost as good as you feel inside me. That first sex with Jack was really good, so I'm grateful to him for that." "Wow, how'd you meet him?" asked Seth, knowing something of Jack's sordid past, where he'd kept to the shadows. "It was at a church camp function." said Joanne. "Jack was working there as a handyman, or something like that. Oh, he was so hot! I remember how Pastor Westboro would look at me, and I could tell he wanted to get into my pants. He's a charismatic guy and might have succeeded, but when I met Jack I just knew it was inevitable that he would make love with me." "Then there was Bob." said Joanne. "Bob French. He's the brother of Guy French, whose wife Helena is Commander Troy's new assistant. Anyway, I was babysitting to make money while I was in college. One night I was sitting for Bob and his wife's little toddler and Bob came home early. He was a handsome man and made me feel good... though I think he put something in my drink. I didn't pass out or anything, but I wanted to have sex with him, and Bob helped himself to me. He got on top of me and put his dick in me... at least he wore a condom..." Joanne looked at Seth teasingly as she said "He wasn't all that big, about five inches... I know how you guys like to compare sizes." Seth just grinned, knowing that he would win almost all of those battles as Joanne continued "He had me a few more times in the next few weeks, then cut it off when his wife almost caught us. And then you came along and I'm not letting you out of my sight!" She kissed him to emphasize her point. "Lucky me." Seth said, taking the initiative and kissing his girlfriend on her lovely mouth as his hand gently squeezed her breast. "So, speaking of past lovers that I'm never going to allow you to go back to..." said Joanne, "how is your case against your aunt and sister going?" "Good." said Seth. "I think we're going to win it." He did not say that it was actually a done deal, as he superstitiously didn't want to jinx it. "But that's not what worries me. My sister is up to something. I can feel it. She's been working a lot with Mr. Ward of Ward Harvester, and I heard a few rumors that she's been having sex with male prostitutes from that high-class BDSM club that blonde woman runs. But let's not talk about that right now." To emphasize his point, he deeply kissed Joanne again, pushing her back to the bed and letting his fingers explore her sperm-soaked labes. "Mmm, let me warm you up for round two." the beautiful blonde said as pushed Seth back. She repositioned herself and bent over her lover's huge, thick, half-hard cock. He groaned as she took him into her warm, wet mouth, sucking him gently, feeling him harden as she fellated him. Joanne loved sucking Seth's cock. Not only did it taste good and his semen tasted good when he shot it into her mouth and throat, but she was desperately eager to bring pleasure to the young man she was so deeply in love with... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * At 6:00am Saturday morning, January 10th, two intense sex acts were happening in the Burke cabin near Lake Amengi-Nunagen. In the master bedroom, Jeanine was riding her father's nine inches, shaking her sweet ass up and down his length, the slap-slap-slap of flesh-on-flesh echoing throughout the room. In the guest bedroom, Todd was slowly and deeply fucking Cherie in the missionary position. He had her legs bent back under his arms, her legs resting over his shoulders and he was licking and sucking her sexy feet and toes... her feet were some of the shapeliest he'd ever enjoyed, and one of the reasons she was one of the highest-class prostitutes in the State. It had shocked him that Cherie Ward was the sister of Marie Ward Arruzio, the woman who Todd's brother Jack had been deeply fucking when they were both gunned down, and in the case that had been his uncle's first big success. Funny how the world is so small, he mused to himself as he languidly shoved his cock in and out of Cherie's very wet, well-used cunt. His motions looked slow and languid, but he was pistoning his entire length in and out of her, and she was moaning and occasionally climaxing as the power of his thrusts seemed anything but slow and languid to her... he was fucking the living hell out of her, she thought as she enjoyed the long fuck. Todd had not used any Viagra or other similar substances, but Michael had used one to keep up with Jeanine. They had fucked a second time, long, deep, slow, and loving, then fallen asleep. Now in the early morning, Jeanine was taking another ride on her father's meat. She had come several times as Michael had fucked her, but she concealed the fact that she was enjoying him physically, while it was obvious that he had much deeper feelings for her... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "So, where's Dawn?" asked Michael as the four sat down to breakfast. "I sent her home last night." Todd said. "I told her she'd be paid anyway, but it's hard enough keeping up with Cherie." Cherie smiled and Jeanine's eyes sparkled, knowing that her husband could keep up with any woman, and then some. "That's fine." said Michael as he glanced at his smartphone. "So, your uncle solved the case of that murdered doctor, I see." There was a bit of a bitter edge to Michael's voice; he remembered who his son Jack's college roommate had been, and who had declined to help him find out about Jack's past. "Not much gets by him." said Jeanine, not quite aware of Michael's feelings toward the Iron Crowbar. "Why anyone would commit a crime in that county is beyond me." "So Dad, what's on the agenda today?" Todd asked, adroitly changing the subject after seeing the look in his father's eyes. "I've got a couple of snowmobiles here." said Michael. "The higher ground to the north of here is snowbound, but we can use those and I can show you guys some of the area and the better views." "This is Federal land, isn't it?" Cherie asked, her knowledge of the area surprising everyone. "Er, no, not the actual houses." said Michael. "But we border the Wildlife Management Area. Lake Watchacoochie to our east has cabins ringed around it, but it's totally surrounded by the W.M.A. No one can buy a cabin there unless they have special inroads with the Federal Government, pun intended." "My uncle and his wife were talking about looking for something there, but nothing is for sale." Todd said, then realized he'd slipped. "Oh?" asked Cherie. "Do they have 'special access' to the Federal Government?" Oh shit, Todd thought to himself. Michael pretended he wasn't listening but Todd could tell that he very much was, and Jeanine and Cherie were openly interested as they looked at him. "Well, Uncle Don has worked with the FBI on some of his cases," Todd said, "and I think Aunt Laura has had some contacts with them through her college researches as a professor. The Federal Government is very interested in sex studies." "As is everyone else." said Jeanine, helping her young husband cover his mistake. Michael nodded absently as he typed out an email, but inside he was elated. He knew there was some connection between Todd's family and the Feds, and Todd had just unwittingly confirmed it. Now for what that connection was, he thought to himself... "Okay, everyone." Michael said. "Let's drive down to Cummings Outdoors General Store and get some supplies, then we'll take the snowmobiles out." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Joanne Cummings entered the women-only side of Town Fitness Centers, ready to work out, when she saw Melina Allgood on the balcony in front of her office. The young policewoman had been told and then read police reports of how Melina had shot dead four intruders from that perch on the balcony. Joanne also had seen Melina's prowess with firearms on a couple of deer hunting trips the previous month. The woman was far and away the best shot Joanne had ever seen, and Joanne was trying to better her own shooting capabilities by having Melina teach her. But hopefully there would be no bullets flying in the gym this morning. Melina waved Joanne up to the office and when Joanne got there the two women hugged. "So, how are things with the Police Department?" she asked as they sat down behind the closed door of the office. "Good." Joanne said. "Your husband is all over the place, trying to figure out why your ex-husband is such a good Detective." She meant it jokingly, but saw Melina's eyes turn sharp. "A lot of people would like to know those answers." Melina said. "All I can say, and that includes my years of marriage to the man, is that he inherited it. His mother is even better at seeing things than he is." "That's what Cindy- er, Lieutenant Ross said." Joanne said. "Cindy says you're doing a fantastic job, as well, that you're observing and deducing nicely." "Aw, that's sweet of her." Joanne said with every touch of political correctness. "She's been training me in weaponless combat, too. By the way, I learned something that you and I have in common." "Oh?" said Melina, "what's that?" "That the guy who took your virginity is the guy who took mine, too." Joanne said. Melina's eyes sparkled. "Jack Burke? Really?" Melina asked. "How did you know him?" Joanne repeated the church camp story. The Eightfold Fence Ch. 01 "Well, I'll be damned. Small world." Melina mused. "By the way, Cindy told me to start saving money for a wedding gift... for you." "Oh my gosh!" Joanne exclaimed. "Seth is great, but we're not at that stage yet." "That's not what my business partner, my ex-husband, and my ex-mother have said." Melina said straight out. "And as you know, they are all very good at seeing things..." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Fifteen minutes after clearing the breakfast table, Michael Burke, his son Todd, Todd's wife Jeanine, and their visiting prostitute Cherie piled into Michael's four-wheel-drive SUV and headed into the little hamlet that contained the General Store. Just as Michael was about to make the right turn onto the main road, Todd noticed the merest flash of red and blue lights around the bend to the left. "Dad, let's go see what's happening over there." Todd said. "Okay." said Michael affably. He turned left and they headed around the curve. The sign telling them they were entering the Wildlife Management Area (W.M.A.) loomed large, then whizzed past them as the drove along. About 50 yards later they were stopped by a uniformed Forest Service agent. "Sorry Mr. Burke," the agent said to Michael, who he knew, "road is temporarily closed." Fifty yards further down the road was several Forest Service and police cars, as well as an ambulance. "Somebody died?" asked Todd, a strange feeling coming over him. "Yeah, young woman. She's been murdered. Left by her car. FBI is on the way, as it's in the Federal W.M.A." Cherie was looking ahead when she suddenly shrieked. As everyone looked at her she exclaimed. "Oh my God! That's Nicole's car!" To be continued. The Eightfold Fence Ch. 02 The chronological order of my stories is as follows: Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10, The Murdered Football Player Series, Case of the Black Widow series, Teresa's Christmas Story, The Case of the Black Badge series, A Case of Revenge series, Teresa's Summer Race, The Trilogy series, Dark Side Of The Force series, Caught In The Act series, Case of the Murdered Bride series, The Credit Card Caper series, The Hot Wives Investment Club series, Seriously Inconvenienced series, Case of the Paper Trail series, Christmas Mystery Theater, The Porno Set Mystery series, The Medical Murder Mystery series. The Eightfold Fence, Ch. 01-02. Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas. This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above. ***** Part 4 - Dr. Bonnie Karpathian "I can hardly believe Dr. Bonnie Karpathian is on this list, either." said Cindy Ross. "Why is that, dear?" asked Phyllis. "She's a well-respected Ph.D in Psychology." said Cindy. "She has assisted numerous police agencies in stalking and serial killing cases. She may have been in the room the night Don set the trap for the Corrigan Cell, but that doesn't mean she's our Big Boy. She's bright, vivacious, and her personality brings attention to her... hardly the persona our Big Boy seems to be... he seems to want to hide in the shadows and let others do his dirty work while he thinks about things." "Yes, you're right about that." Phyllis said. "But it does take a special mindset to do what she does. That goes for my daughter also, and don't tell her I said that. What I'm trying to say is that Bonnie Karpathian studies killers... serial killers. And one wonders what is going on inside the head of someone who studies serial killers." "Maybe..." said Cindy, lost in thought herself... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Saturday, January 10th. At around 9:00am, I had just finished feeding my baby son Jim when there was a knock on the door. Laura answered it and found Jack Muscone on my doorstep, and she let him in. Jack had stayed in Town after the party the night before. "Hi Don," he said, "sorry to interrupt your family life, but we just got a call about a murder up in the Lake Amengi-Nunagen area. My boss has authorized you consulting time if you'll come with me. And before you say 'no', there's another reason I want you to come: the murder took place not far from where Michael Burke lives, and your nephew Todd is up there visiting him. They're somehow implicated in this as witnesses, but I have no details." I sighed. "Well, Laura, I guess I better go get that boy out of trouble." I said, half-jokingly, but Laura knew full well that it could be serious. "Laura," Jack said, turning to her, "would you mind giving me the number for Dr. Karpathian, so I can ask if she can come with us?" "I'll call her myself." said Laura. I noticed that my wife went into the other room to make that call while Jack ooh'd and ahh'd over little Jim. Fortunately, Carole and the Burke babies we were keeping were keeping peaceably quiet. A few minutes later Laura came back, and told us to pick up Bonnie Karpathian at the University Psychology Building in ten minutes. As we left, Laura seemed a bit introspective, and had a touch of worry on her lovely face, but she said it was nothing when I asked if everything was okay. She practically shooed me and Jack Muscone out the door. I had no way of knowing the recent conversation with Bonnie that Laura was thinking about. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Hi Laura!" said Bonnie Karpathian a few days before, practically bouncing into Laura's office." "Hi Bonnie." Laura said. "I've got class to teach in ten minutes, so I'll get straight to the point: what did you want to talk to me about?" Bonnie had asked to speak to Laura the day before. "I'll be quick, then." Bonnie replied, glad that Laura was rushed so that she might give approval without thinking to Bonnie's request. "I've been doing the research and I'm starting a new book. I published one two years ago about three cases, and this one is going to be primarily about Angela Harlan." Oops, that got a look of 'WTF!' from Laura, whose eyes had widened at the name. "Okay, so why are you in here asking me about it?" Laura inquired skeptically. "I want your advice on how to approach your husband and other police officers here about it." Bonnie said. "It was about a year ago now, but it still might be sensitive for them." "I daresay." said Laura, who then caught herself. "Oh, sorry, I should apologize if that sounded acerbic. The truth is, Bonnie, that Officer Pete Feeley was murdered early last February... on the 3d, if I'm not mistaken..." Laura knew full well what the date was... "I'd suggest you wait until well after that before talking to Don, and especially to Lt. Tanya Perlman, who had Pete's child just a few months ago. That is probably the one area that you don't want to bring up with my husband in the next few weeks." "I'm glad I asked you, then." said Bonnie. "I'll hold off, or maybe spend a weekend or two in Texas talking to people who knew her there." "Sure." Laura said. "Do you have a grant for this?" "Right now I'm using money from the grant from the FBI on the LaSalle serial killings in New Orleans a couple of years ago." Bonnie replied. "I've put in for a grant to the DOJ for the Harlan cases, since it's about a law enforcement officer gone horribly bad." Laura asked for the details, said she'd help Bonnie get the grant, then excused herself to her class. "Come to me before you talk to Don or any of the local police on this one. Wounds are still fresh and nerves are raw over it." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "So, Bonnie," said Jack Muscone as he drove north-by-northwest towards Lake Amengi-Nunagen, the elevations climbing gradually but steadily as we went, "you've been studying the Harlan case? Anything new?" I was riding shotgun, enjoying being able to watch out the window without having the duties of driving. Bonnie was in the backseat, wearing a pantsuit and sensible shoes. I could smell her perfume, and it smelled good. But these were words I did not really want to hear. "No, I'm not going to go there for another few months." Bonnie said. "I've been researching other cases for background before I start on that one." "I for one appreciate that." I said rather quietly. Bonnie nodded, and while Jack's facial expression did not change, I think he may have realized he'd stepped in the proverbial dog poop on that one. "So what do you have on this case we're going to see?" asked Bonnie, to change the subject. "Nothing, really." Muscone said. "Dead girl, prostitute from the City. A woman in the car with Don's nephew and family recognized the girl's car, then identified the body. The murder occurred on Federal lands, so my boss called me in when he heard that Michael Burke was involved. "Not to mention my nephew Todd, of course." I said. "That's where he wanted you to come consult with us." said Jack. "Anyway, I'm missing my double cheeseburger for lunch, but maybe you'll get this solved before dinnertime." I smiled briefly. The mention of Angela Harlan had weighed down my soul, and I was still a bit morose. Jack and Bonnie talked about serial killers and their patterns, and I made sure to listen and learn as much as I could from that. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * It was overcast and not too cold yet, but that would change as the front came in, I realized. I had on my trenchcoat over civilian clothes as well as my Tilley hat and... of course... the red crowbar. I was also armed with my service weapon, as I had a Federal Firearms Permit to do so. "Hi, Commander Troy!" Todd said brightly as we entered the Forestry Service offices not far from the murder scene. The passengers of Michael Burke's SUV had been 'invited' to stay there until we arrived. I saw relief on Jeanine's beautiful face at the sight of me, something akin to dislike on Michael Burke's features, and a look of wonderment from a very tall blonde woman in her mid- to upper-thirties. I was introduced to Cherie as a couple of FBI agents came up to brief Jack Muscone, who called me over to hear it. "The woman's name is Nicole Stanton, and she went by the name 'Dawn Starrett'." said one agent. "She was identified by the blonde woman in the other room, there, who said they were both from the City and had come up together upon Michael Burke's... 'invitation'." I did not fail to notice the sarcasm in the agent's voice. "Miss Stanton's identity was confirmed by her fingerprints, also." continued the agent. "She's 28 years old, and was a very high class call girl in the City. Cherie Ward, the blonde woman with Michael Burke's group there, is also a very high class escort. It might interest you to know, Agent Muscone, that Henry Wargrave is suspected of hiring these girls and others of their class for his most special guests, for... entertainment... but also to obtain secrets for him." "Let me ask this." I said. "Did Cherie Ward tell you all that?" "No, she's as nervous as a pig at a bacon factory right now." said the other agent. "She only told us that she knew the girl, they'd been hired to come up to Burke's cabin, they came in separate cars, and Nicole left that evening while Cherie stayed overnight. She wouldn't talk about anything else. Then the young man, Burke's son from what I understand, confirmed that Miss Stanton had left right after dinner, while Miss Ward stayed the night. The black haired woman is a lawyer, by the way, and she says she's the younger man's wife." "She is." I said. "I happen to know them personally. So, anything else before we go to the crime scene?" "Yes, we better get on out there so they can take the body away." Jack Muscone said. "And let's have Todd Burke come with us, please." I said. "Uh, that's not normal." said the agent. "It's all right." said Muscone. "You're going to find that the Iron Crowbar here is not a normal man, either." "This is the Iron Crowbar from the University Town?" said one of the agents, his eyes widening. I held my face to neutral, but inside was very pleased that my reputation was growing. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The woman had been very beautiful in life, but now her body was lying on it's back, mud streaked all over her, and her throat slit open. Other stab wounds covered her body. Her fingernails were scratched and had already been scraped for possible DNA evidence. "Sexual assault?" I asked as I looked around the body, kneeling down next to it. Bonnie Karpathian was kneeling on the other side. "Coroner doesn't think so." said an agent. "He did a full rape kit, but doesn't expect much. He also says it's hard to tell with working girls sometimes, so he'll have to do more work at the autopsy." "So the car was found there, where it is now?" I asked. The Forestry Service agent who'd first found the body said it was. I had him tell me everything he'd seen at the time. The woman had been lying on her back, eyes staring sightlessly upward. She was cold and rigid when he checked for a pulse. There had been no knife or gun anywhere. The woman's purse was in the car, her ID and apparently everything else intact. "No gun in her purse, even though she has a carry permit?" I asked as I looked through the car, seeing that it had already been thoroughly searched. I then said more loudly "Anyone find a gun in her purse or in the car?" No one had, nor had anyone taken a note of finding any such thing. "What about car keys?" I asked a moment later. One of the FBI agents said that no car keys had been found in the car, nor anywhere around the body nor the crime scene. "Interesting. Okay, so the car came down this road, then pulled off to the side here." I said, walking away from the group. "Todd, walk with me." Todd eagerly did so. Once we were about 100 feet away, as I looked on the ground for clues, I asked Todd "Okay, so what can you tell me that you haven't told them?" "We're telling them that Cherie slept with my dad while Jeanine and I slept together." Todd said. "But in reality we'd swapped and I had Cherie while Jeanine was with my dad. We also didn't tell them that Cherie and I knew each other several years ago, when I was working clubs while in school." "To your knowledge, is she more than a prostitute?" I asked. Todd knew better than to question where I was going with that inquiry. He knew that I knew far more than I let on. "No sir." my nephew said. "Not as far as I ever knew. We'd have breakfast after working in our respective clubs, go home and fuck. Not much else there, and of course over time I didn't have much contact with her anymore." We were making our way back to the group. "One more question, Todd." I said, loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Was the deceased woman angry when she left your dad's house?" "Didn't seem to be." Todd replied. "You know," the Forestry Service agent said, who Todd had said was the one that stopped their car when they came down the road, "you two look a lot alike, except for the hair color." "I'll take that as a compliment." I said, not revealing that Todd was my sister's son, and impressed at the man's visual acuity. Todd was grinning mischievously as I asked the Forestry Service agent "Tell me what you saw at this crime scene." "I got here after the first call was made." he said. "Ambulance was already here, and they said the woman was dead already. I heard one EMT say she was 'already in rigor', which I guess means she'd been dead awhile." "Coroner thinks the time of death was about 9:00pm last evening," said one FBI agent, "about an hour after she left Mr. Burke's cabin. But he's not holding hard to that, as the cold may have thrown off the natural rigor process." I nodded, taking in one more full sweep of the crime scenes, and also of everyone who was there that had attended the scene. "Okay, Jack, I'm done here." I said. "By the way, who is doing the autopsy?" "We're bringing in a coroner from the City." said one agent. I winced and he asked "What's wrong with that?" "Only that if you'd brought someone in from somewhere else, no one in the City would know about this yet." I said. "But when that guy comes up here from your office, someone will know and the news will be all over the criminal underworld of the City. So we have lost the element of surprise." "But Agent Muscone came from there." said the agent, seemingly offended. "So they'll know anyway." "No I didn't, I came from somewhere else... and Don is right." said Muscone, then brought the agent back to the lure: "It's not a big deal, but something we'll think about for the future. Don, anything you can tell us?" "Naw, this ground has been trampled on like a horse stampede at a rodeo." I said. "I do think your forensics guys did a good job on the body and the car, so if there's anything to be gotten from the physical evidence, we'll get it. I do wonder how the woman was waylaid and brought here... she should've turned the other way onto this road after leaving the Burke's cabin." "Yeah, the agents were talking about that." Jack said. "Oh..." I said, as if it had just come to me. "There are two things we should be looking for. A gun or other weapon that the woman owned, and the keys to this car. In the meantime... there's something I'm missing here. The picture is not complete for me yet." "All the same, any speculation?" asked Jack. He knew I hated to speculate, but he was almost desperate for ideas. So I threw him a couple of lines. "Perp might have been in the car when she got into it." I said. "Soon as she pulls out, he makes her turn left instead of right, then pull over to the side of the road whereupon he butchers her." I did not mention the obvious: that Todd had sent the woman out at that hour, and he or anyone else in the house could've taken a gun from the woman's purse. She was a prostitute; I strongly suspected she had been armed. "Very possible." Jack said. "Or she heads back to the town, someone waves her down, then either asks or makes her go back along this way. "Bonnie, anything you can tell us?" "No sir." said Bonnie. "I'll research and see if there have been any other killings up here and if there are any similar patterns. But serial killers tend to leave some sort of sign of their work; they want us to know it's them. This looks to be pretty simple, clean, and by someone who does not care to be identified... and had no problem with his victim being quickly identified." "Good points. Okay, you guys can clean this up." called out Jack Muscone. "Take the body all the way to the City for the autopsy. Impound the car, transport it to the City also..." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Back at the Forestry Service building, I said "Have the Burkes and/or Cherie Ward been read their rights?" "Not yet, they're just being treated as witnesses, so far." said one agent. "But we may arrest the blonde woman if she isn't more forthcoming with us. She didn't want to talk to us at all, then the other woman, the lawyer, intervened on her behalf." I then asked to speak to Cherie alone. That got a bunch of protests from FBI agents. Jeanine had told Cherie to trust me, so that wasn't the issue, but other agents weren't having any of it. "What are you going to ask her?" one agent thundered. Another said "I want to be there to hear anything she says. She's not answering our questions, and I think we ought to arrest her." "Guys, this is my case now." said Muscone, cutting off debate. "Don, you'll need to tell us what she tells you, but go ahead." That got an even more vociferous argument from the agents, some of who were being openly insubordinate as they bitterly said that Jack was out of order and they'd be taking it to a higher level. I'm not sure they realized just how high a level Jack (and myself, if need be) could take it. Then one agent said to go ahead and let me, and I could see the crafty smile on his face. Knowing what was up his sleeve, I knew I was prepared. Alone in the room with Cherie, I studied her. She was tall, nearly six feet, very beautiful with a mane of blonde hair, a toned, fit body with large breasts that had needed only some artificial enhancement, and smoking hot legs. Her face looked somewhat familiar to me; I'm sure I'd seen her more than once. She looked like a scared rabbit, though. I turned on my device that would neutralize any bugs that were listening in, wishing I could see Mr. Crafty Agent's face when he got nothing from the bugs. "Cherie, I'm Commander Troy, consulting with the FBI on the death of your friend. I'm also related to your friend Todd, so I want you to trust me so I can protect you. You're more than just a call girl, aren't you?" "Not really." she said, but her eyes welled up with more fear. "Just between us and nobody else, you're a confidential informant for someone in the City, aren't you?" I asked. Cherie said nothing, but looked scared to death. "And for... Captain Susan Wexler, if I don't miss my guess." I said. Cherie's eyes told me that I was right, even though she said nothing. But then I realized that there was something else. And then I realized where I knew her from. The night of Senator Nathan Allen's oh-so-unfortunate heart attack and death. I decided not to pursue this any further. The Eightfold Fence Ch. 02 "Okay, Cherie, I'll keep your secret safe." I said. "But before I go, is there anything at all you can tell me that you haven't told them? Whoever killed your friend could come after you next." "I really have no information that I haven't already given them, though they don't believe that." Cherie whispered. "Who hired you and Nicole?" I asked, now that I had her talking a bit. "Todd's father, Michael Burke." Cherie replied. "Did he hire you two specifically, or just asked for two girls from your agency?" Cherie thought for a moment and then said "My agency contact said I'd specifically been asked for, which means they could charge more, and that would mean more money for me. I was then told another girl had been paid for, and to choose who I wanted to go with me. I took Nicole, since she and I hang out sometimes, and she always can use the money." "You know Mr. Burke? Michael Burke? I know you know Todd." "No, not really." Cherie said. "I'd seen him at a few parties hosted by Mr. Wargrave, but I'd never had sex with Mr. Burke, and this was the first time he'd hired me." "Okay. Thanks, Cherie." I said. "Like I said, I'll do what I can to protect your secret, but I can't stop the investigation nor where it might lead, so prepare yourself and be careful in the future." With that, I got up and walked back into the room with all the agents, some of whom were staring daggers at me. I asked Jack Muscone to come outside with me. I did not turn off the bug-interference device. "Okay," Jack whispered, "I am alienating some agents to help you with this. What is it?" "She's a C.I. for the City Police. I certainly don't want to burn her as that, and if we tell those guys in there, it'll be all over for Cherie." I whispered. "But beyond that, I think she's scared of something else, someone else. Henry Wargrave has hired both her and our victim from time to time. Gotta wonder... gotta wonder..." "Okay." Jack said. "We're between a rock and a hard place. I could tell these guys that I'll tell them on a need-to-know basis if and when the time comes. The problem is that they'll keep investigating, maybe even harder than before, and Cherie's name will pop up all over the place, and it's a done deal for her anyway. I could shut the whole thing down, tell them it's at a higher level now, and I could bring the Deputy Director himself in to back it up. But then someone may go to the press, or may scream cover-up for Michael Burke... who's still a pretty powerful business influence with certain Members of Congress. This could get messy very quickly, Don." "Are these guys trustworthy?" I asked. "Enough that they can be brought in on any of your investigations?" "Nope." Jack said. "Especially not the 'Superior Bloodlines' case. We're limiting that very greatly. My team, one team in Atlanta, and that's it for now. I don't really know these agents, and the fact they were chosen to be sent to investigate a Park Service case shows they're not the brightest bulbs in the box, if you know what I mean. But I'm not sure what to do-" "Mr. Muscone!" called out of voice from the doorway of the building. "You have a phone call inside. It's from the... from the Deputy Director of the FBI himself." "Oh, good." said Muscone, giving me a meaningful look. He rushed inside and I followed. "Yes sir... yes sir... that's right, sir... yes sir, I'll tell them. Thank you, sir." After hanging up the phone, Jack turned to everyone. "That was the Deputy Director, calling all the way from Washington." said Jack Muscone. "He's instructed me to tell you that we're all off the case, that he will be sending a special task force. I don't need to tell you guys that this must be bigger than any of us here, so we're going to do what we're told. The coroner will do his autopsy and that information will be sent to Washington instead of to us. You FBI agents can go on back home. I'll clean up here." Bewildered though they were, the FBI agents acted like professionals. They left their notes with Muscone and left. Muscone also took the notes from the Forestry Service agents. "Todd, follow Cherie home... all the way to the City." I said "Call me immediately if there is the slightest bit of trouble." Todd said he'd drive Cherie's car, with Jeanine following in their car. They made their goodbyes to Michael and left quickly. Michael also hastily left. Bonnie was insatiably curious as we drove back home. "That was the most fortuitous phone call in crime history," she said, "but I didn't see either of you nor any of the agents make a phone call, unless Don did so in the room with the blonde woman." "Nope, I didn't make any phone calls." I said. "Yeah, I was amazed too." Jack truthfully said. "He knew what was going on, but I have no idea how." "Oh really?" I asked. "I thought it was pretty obvious who let the Deputy Director know." "Who?" both of them asked. "Observe and deduce, my friends... observe and deduce." I said. I would say no more about it, especially with Bonnie in the car. Maybe one or the other would, over time, realize that one Forestry Service agent was just a bit too good, had observed the similarity between myself and Todd... he was no ordinary Forestry Service agent, if I did not miss my guess... and I rarely miss... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Back in Town, Bonnie invited me into her office as Jack pulled up to the Psychology Building. I told Jack I'd catch up with him later that evening at the Federal Building. I could walk to The Mountain Nest from here, I also said. Bonnie's office was not nearly as large as Laura's (which practically was a medical clinic), but it was roomy with a window to the outside, a desk to the right side, a sofa on the wall under the window and a coffee table in front of it. A television with video equipment was on the left side, where Bonnie could watch tapes (or television) from her desk. "Have a seat." the lovely brunette said. I sat down on the sofa as Bonnie put her things down on the desk, then strutted her saucy body back around to face me. "So, what did you want to talk about, and not in the FBI agent's presence?" I asked. In reply, Bonnie came around and straddled me on the sofa. Easing herself down, she slid her hands along my upper chest. "I want to have a much more... personal... discussion with you." Bonnie said. "You have no idea how many women envy your wife for what she's taking to bed every night. I felt myself blushing... and becoming aroused. Bonnie had a decent body, a pretty face and such a bright, bubbly personality that any man would be drawn to her. She leaned down and mashed her full lips against mine, and I felt her tongue sliding into my mouth, probing and seeking. Wow, she was being very aggressive! I thought as I let my hands slide up her sides and then cup her breasts. "Let me suck that big cock of yours, see if it's as iron hard as I've heard." Bonnie said as she eased off of me and knelt in front of me. I again wondered how women were hearing about my cock's attributes and Bonnie unzipped and opened my pants. I felt her warm hand grasp my hardening prick, easing it out into the open. She gently jacked it as she looked up at me. "Just relax and enjoy this." Bonnie said, her eyes sparkling; she obviously wanted this a lot. "I want you to come in my mouth. Don't hold back; when you're ready, shoot every drop of your hot cum into my throat." Her raunchy words heated me even more, and my cock was now taut with hardness, aching to be sucked. And it did not have long to wait. Bonnie kissed the bulging helmet of my cockhead, then licked around it. She sucked the head of my cock into her mouth, let it slide out, then opened her mouth wide and engulfed as much as she could in one gulp. I groaned as the heat of Bonnie's wet mouth enveloped me. I felt her seal her full, lipsticked lips around my shaft and suck hard as she slid back up, something Laura often did while fellating me. Then Bonnie slid her mouth back down, swallowing almost every inch of my turgid meat, then slowly sucking back up. It wasn't long before she had established a solid, sensuous rhythm and was sucking my dick as if it would be the last one she ever gave. I let the pleasure in my loins build as I watched the mane of frazzled curly hair bob up and down as the woman underneath gave me head. Bonnie wasn't the best I'd ever had (Audrey Nethers and Laura were coming to mind for that category), but she was good and she was trying hard. I did not try to fuck her face like I enjoyed doing to my wife, but allowed Bonnie to orally service my meat and enjoy herself in the process. And she was enjoying herself... she was moaning around my cock, mewling as she slurped her tongue around the head and shaft from time to time, and then going back to town with her hard sucking. I think I lasted five minutes; it might have been three. But I did not try to hold back as that familiar tightness began building, which would lead to that staggeringly painful ecstasy of release. Bonnie must've sensed me building up. She cupped my balls and began jacking the base of my cock with her other hand as her mouth sucked hard on the upper half of my little 'iron crowbar'. "Uhhh, I'm going to come..." I warned Bonnie. With that, she sank her mouth onto my dick, taking it deeper into her mouth. Just as she came back up, the first huge shot of semen fired down my shaft and into her mouth, filling it with my cock-cream. Bonnie hurriedly swallowed it and tried to sink her mouth down again as several more bursts of baby-batter spurted over her tongue and into her throat. She sucked another couple of bursts out and soon I was pulsing but unable to shoot more... I was spent. Bonnie licked, sucked and slurped up the remainder of my load, cleaning me thoroughly, her full lips shining with a mixture of my ejaculate and her saliva. Finally, she looked up at me with a bright smile and said "That was delicious. And I loved swallowing your cum; now that part of you is part of me forever." I could tell that meant something to Bonnie, and as I looked into her eyes it occurred to me for the first time that her feelings might be stronger than they should be. But she knew well that I was married, so I dismissed the thought. "Thanks, Bonnie." I gasped as I caught my breath. "That was fantastic. So would you like my tongue on your pussy in return?" "Not today, but I'll take a raincheck." Bonnie said. I was actually glad to hear it. I would've stayed and eaten her pussy, and I would've fucked her, but this was a nice place to stop for now, and Bonnie seemed satisfied with her oral conquest of my male member. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * I'd just finished telling Laura about the crime in the Lake Amengi-Nunagen area, as well as being sure to inform my lovely wife about the hot blowjob her fellow professor had given me before letting me come home, when the doorbell rang. Looking out the front door, I saw Cindy Ross outside. Of course I let her in. After all, I'd called my partner and asked if she could come over. My daughter Carole squealed with delight upon seeing Cindy, so a few moments were taken up by Cindy holding, talking to, and playing with Carole. "Okay, what did you want to see me about?" Cindy asked after Laura took Carole into the kitchen for feeding, and to leave us alone to our police business. "I wanted to show you these pictures and asked if you recognized either of them." I said. I first showed her a picture of Nicole Stanton, a.k.a. 'Dawn Starrett'. "She looks vaguely familiar, but I can't place her." Cindy said, trying to think. "Maybe I saw her on a rap sheet or something?" "Maybe. What about this woman?" I asked, handing Cindy the picture of Cherie Ward. I got the result I fully expected. "Oh yes, I've seen her before." Cindy said immediately. She then looked around to make sure nobody else was listening in, then whispered as quietly as she could "Do you remember the night Nathan Allen died?" I nodded as Cindy said "Well, you might remember that someone took a bottle of poison off a tall blonde prostitute and flushed it. This woman was that prostitute. I'm stone-cold sure of it." "Yeah, I remembered that she was at the party, listening in when I confronted Allen and told him that we'd arrested his son... do you think the other woman was at the party also?" "That may be where I saw her." Cindy said. "Why?" "The auburn-haired woman was murdered up on Federal lands at Lake Amengi-Nunagen." I said. "The blonde woman had gone up with her... to Michael Burke's cabin, while Todd and Jeanine were visiting. While they're all visiting, this woman left the party early, and ended up dead on the roadside within a mile of the Burke cabin." Just as I was about to say more, Cindy began coughing hard. "I'm sorry, Commander, I must have an allergy or something." she said in response to my concerned look. "You feeling okay?" I asked. "Anything hurt?" "No, but I think I better go on home. Don't want to get Carole sick if it's a flu bug or something." With that, she made her way quickly out of the house and back to her car, leaving both me and Laura wondering and concerned. Part 5 - University President Dr. Sidney P. Wellman Cindy sipped more of her soup, then said "Okay, Dr. Sidney P. Wellman, honors and titles galore, President of the University. Now this is a guy that I can see being in the middle of a spider web of knowledge and information." "Yes, I agree with you." said Phyllis. "Only thing is..." Cindy said, then after a pause started up again: "I had a conversation with Tanya Perlman once. She was having an affair with Wellman, stopped it when she started dating Pete Feeley, then resumed again after Pete died and after she was already pregnant. She told me that Dr. Wellman's first love is the University, that he'd sacrifice his wife and his mistress and everything else for the sake of his University, that he would kill for the sake of his University." "I believe that, also." said Phyllis agreeably. "But does that make him an arch-criminal of such staggering caliber?" "I don't know." Cindy replied. "But it puts him in an extremely unique position of power, of ability to absorb information, to exert his influence over a far and wide range. He certainly has a national presence and reputation." "True, true." Phyllis said. "But my daughter Laura has said several times that Dr. Wellman loves his students, and often says he wishes he could teach classes again. That does not sound like a man who I would think is devoid of all emotion save greed and hatred." "That's a point... that's a point..." Cindy agreed. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *CHOCK! CHOCK! CHOCK! CHOCK!* The lusty slaps of flesh-on-flesh echoed throughout the large, luxurious bedroom as the older man slammed his throbbing hard cock into the younger woman beneath him with deep, powerful thrusts. He was giving her all he had, exhausting himself in the process, driving her to her own orgasm as he rapidly approached his. Just as he was about to come, the woman gasped and he felt her cunt clutch hard around his pistoning meat. Unable to hold back, he gasped and bottomed out inside her, his cock spurting molten man-lava against her cervix and into the furthest reaches of her spasming pussy. Their sweating bodies grinded together as they deeply kissed in the after-throes of their mutual climaxes, then he finally rolled off of her onto his back. He stared at the ceiling as the woman nestled into him, her head resting on his chest as his gasps for breath still echoed in the room. "Mmmm, it's so nice you invited me here while your wife is at her luncheons with all those rich trophy wives." Tanya Perlman said, her voice sleepy but with a hint of sarcasm. "My dear," said Sidney Wellman, "those rich trophy wives's husbands give my University a lot of money. A lot of money..." "I know." said Tanya. "But not nearly as much as Mr. Wargrave gives the School. I'm surprised you haven't named the football stadium after him already." Wellman chuckled, a deep hearty chuckle that unwittingly sounded sinister. "Yes, dear, he has been a wonderful supporter of our many colleges and programs here at the University. To this point, he's insisted that we name no buildings after him, as much as I'd like to. But which building?" "The Business School?" Tanya suggested, not really interested... her hand was sliding along Wellman's crotch, moving toward his half-hard penis. "Yes, he's a billionaire, but he didn't major in any business or finance discipline." said Wellman. "He actually was a Geology major with a minor in Chemistry, with almost enough credits for a full Chemistry degree. He initially was going into the oil business..." "Oh really..." said Tanya, keeping her voice as 'uninterested' as she could. "Commander Troy was a Chemistry major, also. Funny how people don't use their degrees..." "Mr. Wargrave actually did." said Wellman. "And the Middle Eastern contacts he made allowed him to make money and expand his businesses. He soon found that shipping, the transportation of good and services, made him much more money." Wellman realized he was telling too much about his patron. "But enough of that. What about you, my dear Tanya? Are you happy?" "Oh yes." Tanya said, snuggling into her married lover's arms. "Little Pete is growing fast, and he's just a joy to be with and hold in my arms. Work is... okay, I guess." Wellman noted the catch in her voice. "Problems at work?" he asked, subtly prodding her. "Not really." said Tanya. "I really shouldn't complain: I'm a Lieutenant on a Police Force, which rarely happens anywhere to anyone with less than 20 years experience, and certainly not to women. I'm right where I want to be... head of the MCD Department of the Town & County Police Force. I couldn't ask for more..." "But..." Wellman said. "Yes, I hear the 'but...' in your voice." Tanya grinned, her beautiful cherubic smile that melted Wellman's heart and aroused his loins every time. "I guess I always thought..." She paused, then said "Well, when Don came to the Force and pretty much demonstrated that Sherlock Holmes has nothing on him, I was okay with it. And he really went out of his way to help me increase my abilities at solving crimes. Then he put me in the Crime Lab, and while I liked that okay, I really liked being in the field more, so he took me back out of there and put me in charge of MCD. He didn't have to do that." Tanya paused, then continued. "I guess I had ideas that I'd be Don's 'sidekick', if you know what I mean. But Cindy Ross is that; those two are thicker than thieves. Everyone knows she took those bullets after pushing him down so she could get in front of him, and he gave her his blue crowbar. So sometimes I feel I'm on the outside looking in, and someone else is in my rightful place. Nothing against her, of course." "They're not sleeping together, are they?" Wellman asked, curious. "Of course not!" Tanya exclaimed. "Don't you know Cindy's engaged to another woman? Don isn't on her team, bed-wise that is. I think he'd love to fuck her, and he knocked up her sister, but the Iron Crowbar's not a woman, so she's not giving him any." Wellman kept his face even, but felt total shock. The signs had been there but he'd totally missed them. So Cindy Ross is a lesbian... he thought to himself, cataloguing that piece of information. "Oh, enough about them." Tanya said, wondering if she'd said too much. "So the University is doing okay? You're past the steroids scandal and Coach Harlan dying and all that?" "Yes, I think so." said Wellman. "The NCAA and the Conference have quietly closed their investigations after that-" He stopped. He was about to mention Tim Dawdle's name, but that would've brought up who killed Dawdle... Angela Harlan... and that would've reminded Tanya of who else the Black Widow had murdered. Wellman did not want to go there. The Eightfold Fence Ch. 02 "Well, that's all over now, is what I mean to say." Wellman said. "And we're getting more grant money and more contributions than ever." "That's good." Tanya said, then played her own subtle gambit. "I'm sure the University will be very sad when you retire." Wellman laughed, again sounding more sinister than he intended. He then lay back and sighed. "You know, my dear, I once had dreams of retiring and taking you away with me to some island where we'd live happily ever after. Just leaving it all behind." "Divorcing your wife?" Tanya asked, more skeptical than hopeful. "Yes." said Wellman. "But then I realized that I don't ever want to leave this place, this University." "And your wife?" Tanya asked. "Is entertaining trophy wives at her luncheons..." Wellman said with that evil grin of his, rolling himself back on top of Tanya. "...while I'm fucking your sexy brains out in her bed." Aided by the Viagra he'd taken, Wellman's throbbing member was painfully hard again. He eased between Tanya's shapely legs and sank his turgid meat balls-deep into his lovely mistress's sopping wet quim... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * I entered the Federal Building in Town at 10:00am Sunday morning and was escorted to the area that only a few knew contained the FBI rooms. Jack Muscone was there, having called me in. "Okay, Don," he said, "the autopsy was done last night. Blood tests are not back yet, but the examination shows that the woman had her throat slit from behind, then the other stab wounds were made as she lay dying on the ground. Fiber evidence from the fingernails but no biological tissue, so no DNA. There was no blood in the car nor the woman's purse, so the perp did not search the car nor the purse. The keys were not in the car, nor in the woman's purse or hands, nor found at the crime scene. They're missing." "I again commend your attention to that. It's interesting." I said. I began thinking about it. I knew there was one piece missing, that it was on the edge of my vision... but I wasn't fully seeing it yet. Jack then said "No gun nor other weapon found, either. By the way... I know you didn't want to talk with Dr. Karpathian in the car with us, but I thought about who the Director's mole must be. I'm guessing that one or more of the Forestry Service agents was more than he appeared to be." "Yes, that's my guess, too." I said. "And I think I can be specific: it was the guy who noticed the family resemblance between myself and Todd. You may also have noticed that Todd took pains to immediately greet me as 'Commander Troy' instead of 'Uncle Don' yesterday. Todd did not want them to know he and I were related, so unless Michael Burke told them, they didn't know about the Troy family connection." "Yeah, you're right." said Muscone. "I thought that was odd, about Todd, and you've just explained it. Anyway, I've been researching the girl Stanton, who was known as 'Dawn Starrett' by everyone in her professional world. She and Cherie Ward were pretty good friends, worked the same parties." "Like Senator Nathan Allen's party, the night he unfortunately had that heart attack and died." I said, looking right at Muscone. He looked right back at me. "Yes, they often worked high-level parties, just like that one, where the clients were charged very high levels of money. Not what your average john is going to pay a back street hooker." Jack said. "I'm thinking more of the particular clientele as opposed to their financial resources." I replied. "Politicians... billionaires..." "You definitely like to think about certain things." Jack said drily. "By the way, Cherie's working name is 'Cherie', just one name; she never uses her last name. At any rate, my agents Speer and Escobar are going to try to quietly interview some of her other friends, hopefully without arousing too much notice from the local City Police." "A wise idea." I said. Muscone continued: "I'm also having my guys hit up a few of our own C.I.s, but so far we've gotten nothing on Stanton. We don't think she was a C.I. like Cherie is. We know prostitutes are used all the time and paid well to spy on their customers and get intel, and in fact that was the first thing I thought of when I heard Michael and Todd Burke's names... someone had hired women to get knowledge from them." I replied "I'm sure the FBI would consider the occupants of the Burke cabin that evening to be major suspects, and they might well be right. But I have my reasons for thinking they are not involved, at least not directly." Jack said. "So, what is your scenario? And don't tell me 'not enough data'..." I smiled at that. "Not enough data, for damn sure." I replied, grinning, then said "Okay, I'm visualizing as if I were the killer. First, if it were planned ahead of time, or if she had a contract on her life, I doubt I'd kill her in a remote forest, and so close to the cabin where she was staying. I'd just kill her in the City and throw her in a dumpster, and the local Police call it a whore getting killed by a bad john." "Well, there's the 'Vince Foster' angle." Muscone said, reminding me of the time that President Clinton's aide Vince Foster had been found dead in a National Park. "Kill her there, and it's the Park Police or Forestry Service doing the investigation, an investigation they're hardly equipped to do. Like the Vince Foster case at Ft. Marcy Park." "Yes, but in this case the FBI itself was called right in." I said. "So that means-" I was interrupted by a knock on the door. FBI Agent Lindy Linares was at the door, her mane of curly black hair on top of her head almost exactly matching that of the woman behind her: Dr. Bonnie Karpathian. Lindy said that Bonnie had some information to share with us, and Jack had Bonnie come in. Bonnie gave me a bright smile as she sat down, and I worked hard to keep my loins from heating up at the memory of the previous evening. "I did a quick bit of data crunching on crimes in the Lake Amengi-Nunagen area," Bonnie cheerfully said, "as well as potential serial crimes in remote lakefront or camps. There are a few copycats of the serial killers in the movies, and I dismissed those. There have been a few unsolved murders in the Amengi-Nunagen W.M.A. One was an FBI agent, found shot dead execution-style. The FBI appears to not have done as extensive an investigation as I would've thought they'd have done, and the few case notes I could find suggested general speculation of a Mob hit. The FBI's data on the victim, meaning their data on him as one of their agents, is also surprisingly thin and was hard for me to get; perhaps you'll have better luck." Bonnie gave Jack Muscone the file of data. He looked at it briefly, then sat it on his desk, and I noted he did not hand it to me. I also had seen Jack's facial expression change when Bonnie mentioned it, and now he was working very, very hard to keep his face set in stone. I had an idea that Teresa Croyle could tell me exactly what was in that file, but I let that go as Bonnie continued talking. "One of the dead bodies was a known junior-level mob associate." Bonnie said. "He was shot, but he was given a 'Columbian necktie', and the FBI thought that he had crossed the line with his bosses and was given his just reward by them and simply dumped in the remote location. There was another body: it was discovered by hikers and was decomposed, having been there some time. It was not clear if this person was murdered or just died out there. The Forestry Service was suspicious only because there was no ID of any kind anywhere near where the body was found, so they think it might have been left there." "But you found nothing that ties this case to any of these others?" Jack said. "No, Jack," Bonnie said, "except the possibility that this girl was a prostitute and the Mob has dumped bodies up in that area before." "No, this girl was murdered up there, not brought there dead." I said. "Tell you guys what... Bonnie, I appreciate very much the information you've worked to get us. But for now I think we should just find out information and data that we can, and put the puzzle pieces together. I'm going to go talk to Todd and Jeanine, privately, as a family member, see if they can tell me something usable." "Don..." Jack said, getting my attention, "be cautious on this one. I thought the Director was calling off the dogs to keep other investigations from being compromised, but that may not be the case. I found out that he really is bringing in a special team, and I didn't find that out from him. He may have shut it down because you were there and your family may potentially be involved." I just nodded. This was a mess, I thought to myself. Part 6 - Sheriff Daniel Allgood "Now this is the one..." Cindy Ross said with a sigh, "that I absolutely cannot believe. Daniel Allgood. Longtime chief of Internal Affairs. Don put Daniel up for Sheriff instead of himself. Daniel is married to Don's ex-wife, who is my business partner, and Melina's a pretty sharp cookie when it comes to judging people." Phyllis just nodded as Cindy continued "If this guy is the master criminal, then it's the best con job in the history of crime. I can't help but think Daniel just happened to be in the room when Don's conversation happened." "Yes, of course you could be right," said Phyllis, "but that's what is called the 'rub' about this criminal: no one even knew of his existence until Don began to figure it out. Everyone was thinking Mr. Wargrave was behind it all." "Phyllis..." Cindy said, finally bringing up the uncomfortable subject, "do you think Don might be wrong about this? Maybe it is Wargrave, or maybe Don is on the wrong path completely?" "Oh my, I certainly don't know." Phyllis said. "Don is a confident man, but he's also careful and doesn't want to waste his or our time on wild goose chases. I don't think he'd have told you what he did if he did not believe it himself..." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * On Monday morning, January 12th, I was standing in front of the desk in my anteroom, getting my new assistant Helena French settled in. I'd introduced her to Paulina and Paulina's assistant (with whom Helena was sharing the anteroom), and was about to take her on the grand tour of the Station when Sheriff Daniel Allgood politely knocked on the open door to the hallway. "Sheriff, come on in." I said. "This is my new assistant, Helena French. Helena, this is the new Sheriff in Town, Daniel Allgood." "Nice to meet you." said Daniel, shaking Helena's hand across the desk as she stood up to greet him. Helena was wearing a white dress with blue polka-dots, a blue belt and matching high heel blue pumps. She looked delicious, and I knew that she was from our previous sexual encounters as part of the 'Libertines' group. "Don and I are also brothers." Daniel said. "Our wives are sisters." "Ohhhh..." said Helena, looking at me. "I did not know that." "Neither did they, for years." I said. "I haven't really made a point to tell everyone, but it's not a secret in any way, either." "So Sheriff, what other secrets about my new boss should I know?" Helena said with a mischievous smile. Helena had a lovely smile. She was in her 40s, wore her light brown hair in a 'Princess Diana' style, and was generally quiet and serious with these flashes of warm humor. "Oh, you're going to hear many secrets while you're here." said Daniel, getting serious. "And I know the Iron Crowbar hired you because he trusts you with those secrets." "Certainly." Helena said. Message received and understood, I could see in her eyes. "Don, can you come to the Chief's office in ten minutes?" Daniel said. "Something important has come up..." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * It was important. It was staggering. And it was not unexpected. "Yes sir." said Captain Leslie Charles, sitting next to me in the chairs facing the Chief's desk, Sheriff Allgood behind the desk. "I've put in the papers to retire February 1st." I groaned as Captain Charles replied "I appreciate your sentiment, sir, but it really is time for me to go." "I hate it, but I can understand it." I said. "You and Chief Griswold were close." "Yes sir." said Charles. "The Chief and I were together for many years. But that's not the only reason I'm retiring. Now don't get me wrong, gentlemen, I think the Chief did the right thing, and really knew what he was doing, when he promoted you to Commander and put you in charge of everything. And I think your Detectives are a great bunch of Officers, and you and they are doing well in getting good Uniformed officers into places of responsibility. I also think you, Sheriff Allgood, have a lot of promise and will do very well... as long as you get the hell out of the way and let this man solve the crimes for you." Allgood smiled as Charles paused, then continued: "But precincts, and the dividing of my forces, has pretty much made me obsolete, Commander. It's a young man's game... your game now." "Well, Captain," I said, "you're not obsolete and never will be. But I understand how you feel, and in truth I've been observing you and I'm not totally surprised that this day has finally come. All I can say is 'thank you' for helping me since I came to the Force, and for all you did to make this the best Police Force anywhere." "It's been a great honor working with you and these great young men and women." said Captain Charles, trying not to to get emotional, I could see. "At least... at least I got to see my son come on to the Force. If your son follows in your footsteps, you'll understand what I'm feeling now. You too, Sheriff." Daniel nodded. "Yes, and your son a great part of our SWAT Team." I said. "The height of professionalism and setting the example. I only hope my son will grow up to be like that." Captain Charles gave the closest thing to a smile for him at hearing the praise for his son. "So let me ask you this." said Sheriff Allgood. "Any ideas of who you want to replace you in command of the Uniformed Division?" "With precincts, I'm not sure my position is needed anymore." said Charles. I remembered that The-Powers-That-Be carved out the position just for Charles, as he refused to take any position that did not have him with his 'fellow uniformed officers', as he would say. "The position is not going away." I said. "The Sheriff and I have made sure of that with the Council. It might not be a full Captain in the slot, but it'll be someone. And we do want to hear your ideas on who to put in there." "The guy who I think will do the best job," said Charles, "who can go around to the different precincts and keep the officers in all of them in line... is not on our Police Force today." He told me the name he was thinking of, a name that did not surprise me, and one of which I wholly approved. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * As the Iron Crowbar and his Team were solving the crimes of a murdered doctor and pharmacist, Police Chief Harold Malone was looking over the landscape as he drove along the paved, two-lane road. Flat land, peanut farms, cotton farms, farms as far as the eye could see. Boring as hell. The job was boring, too, but Malone knew that the job was not why he was here. It was his 'extracurricular' duties that were important. The lines of communication had been established to bring in and support one group of drug suppliers, to keep the blacks well supplied with narcotics, and also to distribute into the Southeast... more traditional inroads were being found and interdicted by the Feds. Now he was now going to a meeting to establish something different. He turned onto a dirt road that went between two farms towards a line of trees that denoted the 'river', which was not much more than a wide, shallow creek, but was the biggest ribbon of water in the area. There was an old barn near the tree line, dilapidated and about to fall down. He drove his car back behind the barn, where it could not be seen from the road. Stepping inside the dark structure, he could only hear the wind whistling and the creaks of the old boards of the empty barn. Well, not quite empty, he noted. There was a metal folding chair sitting right there in front of him, about 25 feet inside the opening. It was obviously meant for him to sit there. He looked around, seeing no booby traps above the chair, but he still took it and moved it five feet before sitting down. He waited, the ten minutes seeming interminable, listening for the sound of a car to drive up but hearing none. "Hello, Chief Malone." said the voice. Malone just about jumped out of his skin, and was even more shocked when he saw who it was that had come into the barn: it was Henry R. Wargrave himself. He saw no one else, but that meant nothing: Wargrave would never just come here alone, so someone was out there watching his back. Wargrave opened another metal chair and placed it where he'd be sitting facing Malone's right side at a right angle; Malone couldn't go for his service weapon without Wargrave seeing it, and the angle was odd for Malone to try that even if he wanted to. Wargrave was a very experienced man at dealings of this kind. Wargrave further proved it by bringing a device out of his pocket. I was a device that would kill any chance of their conversation being recorded, a very similar device to the one the Iron Crowbar reportedly had, Malone thought. Okay, this is is something big, he surmised. "How are you doing down here in Alabama?" Wargrave asked. "You want the truth, or do you want me to tell you what you want to hear?" Malone said. "You're bored, I understand that." Wargrave said. "It won't be too long before we can get you to a more populated area. Would you like to be in a college town again? Auburn? Tuscaloosa? Athens, Georgia? Gainesville, Florida?" "Knoxville, Tennessee." Malone said. "Not that I really want to go to a college town, but at least Rocky Top has rocks... and hills. I'm sick and tired of flat land. Being here reminds me how nice it was to have hills near the Town, like the ridge the Iron Crowbar's house is on." "The house that burned to the ground?" Wargrave said. Malone's face registered his shock. "It did?" Malone gasped, then before he could stop himself he said "You did that?" "Hell no." Wargrave said. "I don't kill children. It was a huge mistake by the person that did it, someone you really have no idea about. I'm not really happy with the instigator over it, either. But enough of that for now. What I've come to you for, Harold, is to offer you a deal. A serious and good deal that could make both of us a lot of money. A lot of money." "I'm listening." said Malone. "I know you're very good at arranging and overseeing transportation of certain products." Wargrave said. "I am setting up hubs of operations to bring my favorite products, arms, into areas of the United States where they're going to be needed soon." "For what?" "For the coming race wars." Wargrave said, beginning to work Malone's weak spot. "My clients were moving slowly, but they see that the enemies of good white men and women are being constantly threatened by favoritism towards minorities, by importing more and more illegal aliens. My clients believe that the other side wants to gin up race wars... and my clients want them to be totally shocked at the sheer number of arms at our disposal." Harold Malone had long been a white supremacist, but until now he had not considered the scope of what was going on. Henry R. Wargrave was not just a national player, he was one of the "Big Boyz" internationally. He was a billionaire because he had sold arms to groups all over the world, often to both sides in the same conflict. And now he was actually wanting to smuggle arms into the United States! Geez... The Eightfold Fence Ch. 02 "You will not only be making money, Harold," said Wargrave, "but you will be helping to assure that our way of life continues, and that your wife does not get gang-raped by black thugs." Wargrave was pouring it on. He was a master of psychology; only the Iron Crowbar and his once-master were his intellectual equals. Harold Malone was not. "Okay, I'm in..." he heard Malone say. "But there's an extra I want you to throw in for me..." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Just after shift change at 4:00pm, Sheriff Daniel Allgood gathered his things and got ready to leave. He'd been using the Chief's office, which had made Commander Troy uncomfortable because of the Commander's relationship with Chief Griswold. The Iron Crowbar was discomfited by someone else sitting in that seat so soon after Griswold had retired. Daniel also wanted to leave at this time of day because he found out that Commander Troy, and therefore the Lieutenants of the Detective Division, would not leave until he did. Good on protocol, but he didn't want to tax their time any further than was necessary. His wife Melina was working at her gym tonight, catching up on paperwork. Daniel didn't understand how Cindy Ross could keep that gym going, do her police work, and train for the summer ironman competition, but she was doing it... and maybe to the detriment of her health. She'd been coughing a lot, which was one more reason Melina wanted to do some work; to give Cindy a few hours off. Daniel had to attend the Kiwanis Club meeting and give a short speech; such was his new life as a political figure in the County. His wife's ex-mother was taking care of the baby; Phyllis just loved taking care of babies, and little Daniel as much as her own grandchildren... He went to the Fire Department offices, spending a couple of hours in meetings with the senior officers there. He always felt like, unlike the Police Department, the Fire Department officers were trying to hide something from him. In addition, he could never get straight answers on the status of the EMTs, and there was never any EMS representation at the meetings. Commander Zoe Singer was never invited to the meetings either. Daniel made a mental note to schedule private meetings with her. It was dark as he left and headed to the Ladies Auxiliary Clubhouse, where the Kiwanis Club was meeting. He sat at the head table for the supper, then was introduced as the speaker. He gave a few remarks about getting settled into his job, the professionalism of the Police, Fire, and Sheriff (Deputy) Departments, and thanking the club for their community service, yadda yadda yadda. One thing he did like to do was open the floor for questions... after stating clearly that any questions and answers were formally 'off the record' if any Media people were there. The questions themselves would give him clues to what the People of the Town & County were interested in, a trick he'd learned from the Iron Crowbar. Most of the people at this meeting were businesspersons from the northern half of Town and 'upper' County, and most of their questions to their new Sheriff were about the encroaching crime from the southern parts of Town and 'lower' County, thinly disguised code words for black crime encroaching on white neighborhoods. The Sheriff answered that the new Police Precinct structure was designed in part to serve the County by giving emphasis to where it was needed, when it was needed. That brought a counter-question from Councilman Reginald B.F. Lewis, who asked rather sharply if the issues between police and blacks in other parts of the nation would be a problem in this County. The Sheriff replied that both himself and his Police Commander had worked hard and would continue to work hard to ensure that all citizens were equally and fairly treated. It sounded politically correct, and of course it was; after all, Daniel Allgood was now a politician. Of course the question of who the next Chief would be was asked, which of course the new Sheriff did not yet know, and said he'd like to get Chief Griswold back... pointing out Chief Griswold, who was sitting right there in the audience. That got some applause and was a good ending for the meeting. The meeting was over about 9:00 and Daniel lingered about 30 more minutes, talking to people in small clusters. As he got in his car to leave, he considered the questions and realized that there were underlying tensions in the county, mostly of race. He'd have to talk to the Iron Crowbar about it, he thought as he drove towards the gym to pick up his wife. As he parked in the half-full lot and got out of his car, he was dimly aware of movement at the other end of the building. Something more than instinct caused him to race to the other side of his car, and just in time- two masked men came around the corner and began firing at him! To be continued. The Eightfold Fence Ch. 03 The chronological order of my stories is as follows: Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10, The Murdered Football Player Series, Case of the Black Widow series, Teresa's Christmas Story, The Case of the Black Badge series, A Case of Revenge series, Teresa's Summer Race, The Trilogy series, Dark Side Of The Force series, Caught In The Act series, Case of the Murdered Bride series, The Credit Card Caper series, The Hot Wives Investment Club series, Seriously Inconvenienced series, Case of the Paper Trail series, Christmas Mystery Theater, The Porno Set Mystery series, The Medical Murder Mystery series. The Eightfold Fence, Ch. 01-03. Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas. This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above. ***** Part 6 - Sheriff Daniel Allgood (continued) Daniel had his gun out and was trying to return fire, but he was aware he'd be firing toward the populated street, while the perps' bullets were flying to the left of the gym towards the empty fields of the Fairgrounds. They also were using semi-automatic fire rifles against his service revolver. Daniel had to keep his head down, and he was wondering how he was going to get out of this when he suddenly heard two shots behind him, followed by silence... and two masked men lying dead on the pavement. Whirling around, he saw his wife Melina on the fire escape ledge, having just fired two shots with the pistol in her hands. He did not know that her record of shooting from that ledge remained perfect; he was just grateful she had been perfect in her aim on this night. She was looking down at him and he said "I'm okay." He heard her gasp "Thank God!" then she went back inside the building, only to reappear moments later and come up to him as a crowd was forming. She slipped the 9mmP pistol into his hand, which he made sure to hold to put his prints on it, then pocketed it. "We need to call the Iron Crowbar." Daniel said after ordering everyone to stay away from the bodies, and checking to see if they were still alive: they were not. "An excellent idea. I couldn't agree more." said a tall, titian-haired man in a trenchcoat and full-brim hat and carrying a red crowbar, as he came up behind the Allgoods. I walked past them and begin examining the bodies for evidence as the crowd began chattering about my presence there. I was not surprised to find the total lack of IDs, but a set of car keys on a ring with a push-button-lock fob was in the pocket of one of the men. "Anyone see anything?" I called out. "Please come forward if you saw anything that could help us." No one did; they'd all rushed out from inside the gym and the shops of the strip mall. Two Town & County Police cruisers barreled into the parking lot, blue lights blazing. Patrol Officers Roy McGhillie and rookie Officer Phil Goodwright were in one car. Sergeant McCombs and Patrolman Davis, a black cop who'd been working with Vice units, were in the other car. "How the hell did you get here before we did?" Sergeant McCombs snarled at me. He was not the best of my Force, and I'd had my eye on him for some time. I resisted an even more acid and personal comment, and settled on "I'm just that good, Sergeant. Always keep that in mind." Out of the corner of my eye I saw Melina try to keep from grinning, but her sparkling eyes betrayed her amusement. "Okay, who shot the perps?" asked McCombs, trying to take over the scene. "I did." said Sheriff Allgood, coming out from behind me. McCombs could not hide his shock. "Sheriff!" he gasped. "They were shooting at you? I thought they must be shooting at the Commander..." His voice trailed off as if a thought had come to him. "No, they came after me when I pulled into the parking lot." Daniel said. He produced the 9mmP pistol. "I used this personal weapon to defend myself." Sergeant McCombs reached for it, but I intercepted it. "I'll hold this until the MCD officers get here." I said. McCombs was not MCD nor was he a Commander; therefore, I was making it clear who was in charge. "You guys do crowd control, try to get this crowd to disperse." A few minutes later, Sergeant Rudistan and Senior Patrolman Morton arrived, and I quickly put Rudistan in charge, to McCombs's silent chagrin. I bagged the pistol and gave it to Rudistan, then asked Daniel to come with me. I first took out the car keys I'd taken off the perp and pressed the 'lock' button. Nothing happened. "Okay, let's try the parking lot across the street." I said. We crossed over, followed by Melina, and I pressed the 'lock' button twice. A car horn beeped. It was a car in the middle of the lot. "Let's check it out." Daniel said, moving forward. "Hold on, Sheriff." I replied, literally holding him back. "We need to see if it's booby-trapped. It's not like perps to bring their car keys with them; they usually put them on the tire under the side-paneling." Daniel nodded as I got on the radio and asked for Sergeant Seymour to be brought to the location. Sergeant Seymour was an outstanding explosives-sniffing dog. Fifteen minutes later, Sergeant Seymour and his handler arrived. I gave Seymour a good petting, seeing as I love spending a few moments with members of my K-9 Corps whenever I can, and thinking that I should get a dog myself. Laura would kill me if I did, but it'd be nice to have a dog. Then Seymour's handler had him sniff all around the suspect car as well as other cars nearby. He detected no explosives. Still, I asked everyone to stand back as I approached the car myself. "Okay," I said, unlocking the door, "let's see if there's anything of interest in here." I slowly lifted the door handle and then opened the car. No explosions greeted me; always a good thing. I quickly searched the car. There was nothing inside the car nor in the trunk, but there were some airline tickets in the glove compartment. "Hmmm," I said. "From the City to Birmingham, Alabama... through Atlanta." I added: "There's an old joke that when people in the South die and go to Heaven, they have to change planes in Atlanta." "It's no joke." said a voice behind me. FBI Special Agent In Charge Jack Muscone walked up to us. "I've gotten to know every inch of Hartsfield International Airport in Atlanta over time." "What brings you here, Jack?" I asked as Jack shook hands with Daniel and Melina. "We got a lot of chatter in Atlanta about something going down." said Jack. "The two guys who are now being transported to your morgue came up on our search of flight manifests between Atlanta and the City. We got their car rental and then had to get a warrant to trace the GPS in the car, and I just got here, but obviously late for this party." "Glad you're here, all the same." I said. "Okay, let's wrap this up. Sheriff, you'll have to give a statement, probably to Rudistan unless Internal Affairs wants to have fun interviewing their old boss. I see no reason why this won't be called a 'good shoot', and quickly resolved." "Let's go talk." Jack Muscone quietly said to me as everyone went to work. "Somewhere private. Like my office here in Town." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * It was late, nearly four o'clock in the morning of Tuesday, January 13th, when I got back to the Mountain Nest. Jack Muscone had come with me. Carole, Jim and little Daniel were asleep. Laura and Melina were talking on the sofa in the den by the warmth of the gas log fire in the fireplace. "Daniel will be here soon." I said. "The official record, which will be authored by me personally and reviewed by the Inspector General of the SBI, says that the Sheriff's return fire caught the two perps dead center in their chests, killing them in what will be determined to be a 'good shoot'." "We've been able to move quickly, and we got a lot of information." said Jack Muscone. "The perps are so-called 'good ole boys' from Opelika, Alabama. Known to the FBI and BAFTE as gun runners for white supremacy groups. They left their wallets and cellphones in a locker at the City Airport; the TCPD Crime Scene team found the key to the locker hidden in the car, and I had my guys rush it to the City Airport. We secured not two but four wallets and cellphones." "Two of the IDs corresponded to the dead perps." Muscone continued. "We put out an APB, and the State Highway Patrol picked up the other two guys, who were driving back to the City from here. We took them to FBI Headquarters in the City, and they pretty much started talking immediately. They were watching the Allgood residence, while the two that died were watching the gym, knowing the Sheriff would show up at one or the other location eventually." "Did they say who hired them?" Melina asked, her face showing nothing, dead to all but an intention to administer Justice... "Yes." Jack said. "They waived their rights to counsel and silence, and in separate interviews told us it was Harold Malone that hired them, that they'd been part of a drug-running scheme he was overseeing. Their stories matched, too. We checked their cellphone records, and a picture of Daniel Allgood was sent from a burner phone in Malone's home county in Alabama." Laura and Melina nodded, then Jack said "Laura, can I talk with you in the kitchen for a moment?" They went into the kitchen and I sat down by Melina. "Good shooting." I said quietly. "As always, of course." "What makes you think it was me?" Melina asked, trying not to grin mischievously. "As I said, these two guys had bullets in the dead-center of their chests," I replied, "and Daniel can't hit the side of a barn, so sorry. But someone else I know... can." "Too bad I had to shoot them." Melina said. "They sounded like good white guys." "I think you did the right thing." I said. "It was your husband they were shooting at. Of course, in all those years nobody tried to shoot your ex-husband..." That got me a slap on the shoulder, but Melina then said "Tell me this: your face looked skeptical while Jack was telling us Harold Malone is behind this. What do you really think?" "That this is way too sloppy." I said. "Malone was careful about cell phone use, and he knew all the dead zones when he was here in Town. And those two surviving perps were a bit too eager to talk about Harold Malone. He may indeed be behind trying to kill Daniel, but there are some... strangenesses." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "So," I asked my wife as we got ready to go to work without bothering to go to bed, knowing that we'd have to catch naps on our respective office couches to catch up on sleep, "can you tell me what Jack Muscone wanted to discuss with you?" "Sure." Laura said. "Jack said they got onto these guys so quickly because of their white supremacy connections, but they also have another connection that hasn't really shown up before: gun-running. These guys have been using gun shows as cover to transport weapons all across the South, including Texas and Oklahoma, and the Midwest. He wants me to check some connections through my CIA contacts." "And why does he want my favorite CIA officer to be checking on this?" I asked. Laura got my meaning: this was a domestic thing. "Because international gun smuggling is the forté of our friend Henry R. Wargrave." Laura replied. I needed to hear no more to connect those dots. Part 7 - Councilman Reginald B.F. Lewis "Next is Councilman Reginald B.F. Lewis." said Cindy Ross to Phyllis. "He represents the mostly-Black regions of Town. He fancies himself the local version of the Reverend Jesse Jackson, but I know personally that he's not respected by the real power players of the Black Community." Cindy was remembering the Iron Crowbar's meeting with 'T-Square' and the shadowy figure known as 'The Teacher'. "I believe my son was speaking directly with Councilman Lewis during the conversation with the eight people in the room." Phyllis said. "That is correct." Cindy said. "I asked Don if Lewis was part of the subterfuge, but he said Lewis wasn't, that he used Lewis to get the information out to set his trap. As to Lewis himself, he's good at trading political favors in a way that he gets what he wants, but the other side may or may not get what they want. He also makes sure that his constituents provide him with cash in exchange for favors... like that crooked pharmacist Abel Fillmore that recently got thrown to the Federal dogs. Last but certainly not least, Lewis is quick to throw the race card if he feels it's to his political advantage." "So do you think he's our Crime Master?" Phyllis asked. 
"I'd think it's the 'Teacher' guy before I'd think it was Lewis," Cindy replied, "but there is no doubt that Lewis is well-connected, could arrange for one group to do something for another group and in a way that helps himself. I can't count him out..." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" blared the lovely redheaded reporterette at 7:00am on Tuesday, January 13th. "Channel Two News has learned that the attempted shooting of Sheriff Daniel Allgood last night was committed by known white supremacists from Alabama. It is not clear why our Sheriff was targeted, but the FBI took two other men into custody last night, and are holding them in the City. The FBI is giving no further information at this time." Bettina then rehashed the attempted murder of our Sheriff as the screen showed a parking lot full of blue lights flashing on police cruisers. She ended with this scalding line of remembrance: "This is not the first attempt on Sheriff Daniel Allgood's life in the past year. He was wounded in a home invasion while running for Sheriff last year, and has been targeted by assassins in the past..." I listened as Bettina rehashed old news, wondering why she was bothering to do so. Unfortunately, the lovely redheaded reporterette was not finished. "Channel Two News has also learned that one Nicole Stanton, a resident of the City, was found dead over the weekend in the resort Lake Amengi-Nunagen area, very near the property of former Town resident and business executive Michael Burke. The FBI was called into the case, as the murder was committed on Federal lands, but they have given KXTC no details of the crime nor of the progress of their investigation. As always, KXTC will bring you breaking news immediately. This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News." "That leak has to be from within the FBI." said Cindy Ross. Martin Nash's face showed skepticism at that. "Maybe, but the FBI is pretty good about not leaking stuff. And why talk about the Lake Amengi-Nunagen killing? Why leak that, much less report on it here locally?" "Media Lady there really wanted to make sure to mention Mr. Burke's name, too." Joanne Cummings astutely observed. "Commander, what do you think? Commander?..." I didn't reply. I had just heard something I knew in my soul was important, and I was deep in a reverie... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Cindy Ross had called in and said she'd be late for work, citing a plumbing issue at her home. So my 8:00am meeting was with Lt. Perlman and Lt. Teresa Croyle. "Lorena Rose has been tracking a drug ring that distributes through prostitutes. She's gone undercover twice." Teresa reported. "We cross-checked with the FBI on that girl that was murdered up near the Burke cabin over the weekend, but she wasn't involved. Funny thing, though... the FBI is acting kinda funny about that case: nobody will discuss it with us, though they finally gave me what I wanted to know." "That may be because my nephew Todd is involved." I said. "I think they're trying hard to keep me, and therefore all of you, out of the loop. Don't sweat on it, and keep me informed about Lorena's investigation. Anything else?" "I'm keeping Lorena as far away from Sharples as possible." Teresa said. Lorena hates the guy anyway, calls him 'Fat Ass' in front of everyone, but he was asking someone else about what she was investigating. I called him out and told him that investigations other than his own were none of his business, but that only seems to have strengthened his resolve to find out what's going on. Lainie in I.T. has put traces on Sharples' computers and police cellphone, which Sonali has not been told about. Commander, I don't know if I'm running a Vice Squad or a CIA cell, what with all the spy-vs-spy stuff." "I hear ya. Definitely keep Sharples away if someone is going undercover. Do you have a case for him to work on?" "I thought about that." said Teresa. "My first thought was to give him little-shit stuff, but then I had the idea to have him investigate some of the political corruption issues going on in the Tenderloin District. If anything might the Union to stop supporting Sharples, it might be him finding out something about their political patrons." I could not help but grin at that one. "We'll see." I said. "It's a good idea, and if he goes to them and asks for payoffs, then we have a shot to get him there. At the same time, it all but puts him right where he wants to be. Oh well..." I changed tack: "Tanya, what do you have?" "Internal Affairs has formally taken over the assassination attempt on the Sheriff, and plan to push it up to the County's Inspector General's office." Tanya reported. "But even that is for nothing, as the FBI came in and basically shut us down the whole way around. And I've observed that our Police Commander needs a power nap after being up all night." "No doubt about that." I said tiredly. I ended the meeting and the ladies left. A few minutes later I decided to walk down the hall to the Duty Desk to examine the written logs there, something I frequently did in order to keep abreast of the tactical situation in my County at all times. I was not meaning to eavesdrop, but a conversation caught my attention. The door to Perlman's tiny office was open and Teresa was inside the door. I heard Teresa say "We've been training for the marathon, but Cindy's coughing gets worse every day. I finally stopped her this morning and told her to either go to the doctor or ease off for a few days..." Why was I getting a feeling of foreboding about this? I wondered as I continued on my way down the hallway... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * At 9:00am I told Helena that I was taking no calls nor visitors unless it was a truly serious emergency. I then lay down on my sofa in my office and took a nearly three hour power nap. I was going to call Todd and Jeanine and arrange to talk with them, but great minds must've been on the same wavelength because at 2:00pm Helena buzzed through a call from Jeanine. She and Todd wanted to talk with me. So I moseyed on over to her law office, where she and Todd were waiting. "We received separate calls from the FBI this morning." Jeanine said. "They want to interview us, formally, about Nicole Stanton's death." "Okay, what's the issue?" I asked. "I called Jack Malone about it." Jeanine said. "He said it wasn't his team on it, that it was some special team the Deputy Director assembled. What Jack might not have known is that I'm familiar with this kind of 'special team investigation'... these guys have a way of probing where they shouldn't, and trying to create guilt rather than simply investigate it." The Eightfold Fence Ch. 03 "What we need, Uncle Don," said Todd, "is your advice on what to do about this." "First, let us, the three of us, talk about this... family to family, privileged." I said. "I need to know exactly what happened. You don't need to tell me every sexual position you were in, but I need to know if either of you were ever alone, if Michael or Cherie or Nicole was alone for any length of time, and such as that." I listened as the two of them gave their joint and separate actions throughout the night. I could not see any timeframe that allowed any of the four in the house to leave and accost Nicole, nor contact anyone via cellphone, as both Todd and Jeanine said no cellphones were used at any time within their presences (and that had been confirmed by the FBI). I also inquired to the presences of Cherie and Nicole. Both Todd and Jeanine were surprised they'd been there, and Jeanine said Michael had hired them to 'entertain' Todd while she and Michael made a baby... except that she was already expecting. "Now I know where you get your dirty mischievous streak, Todd." I said. "Your dad is a sneaky dog." "Don't I know it." Todd said, grinning. He was like Sergeant Rudistan: nothing ever was serious to him, it seemed. At the end, I gave my advice: "Guys, it's up to you." I said. "But you both should insist on other lawyers being present as your respective legal counsel at any and all questioning, and you should not go to any FBI office for the questioning. Insist they come to you, and if you think the questions are getting personal or trying to lead you into implicating yourselves into something, take the Fifth. Don't fuck around. I don't know what's going on, but play no games with these people until I do find out what the hell is going on here..." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" said Bettina on the morning of Wednesday, January 14th at 7:00am. She was not shouting as loudly as she normally did. "Channel Two News has learned some details of the yesterday's meeting between Councilman Reginald Lewis and Sheriff Daniel Allgood, who is showing no signs of any worries following the attempt to assassinate him the night before." The television screen showed Daniel and Lewis sitting side-by-side in chairs in Lewis's Town Council office, facing the camera and chatting sideways to each other. As always, I wondered if the Media were really so stupid that they thought we believed the two were actually talking, as opposed to the reality of a very-much-staged sit-down for the Media cameras. As the screen showed both Daniel and Lewis shaking hands, using all four hands, and smiling just a bit too hard and brightly, Bettina said "Mr. Lewis and Sheriff Allgood have agreed to work on improving communications and having much closer cooperation between Town & County law enforcement and the Black community." Then the tape showed Bettina interviewing Lewis, who was saying "I am very glad that the Sheriff understands the special needs of the Black community as well as their concerns about police abuses, as demonstrated in other parts of the Nation. The Sheriff is committed to ensuring that what has happened elsewhere won't happen to our people here." It was stiflingly quiet in the MCD room as we listened. Theo Washington, who was black, was shaking his head. Joanne Cummings, decidedly white and blonde, looked innocently skeptical. Martin Nash had the same implacable look he always did. Then Bettina's interview with Sheriff Allgood came on the screen. He said "As you know, Bettina, the Police Department has implemented precincts, allowing us to serve all our Citizens in all parts of the Town & County with more flexibility and more attention to those areas and issues that require a fast and proper response. Of course the Police Department here will tolerate no abuse of citizens of any ethnicity, and I believe Commander Troy and his Officers have demonstrated that extremely well..." I liked the way Daniel made sure to use the word 'citizens'. "Sheriff is name-dropping, Commander." Cindy Ross said, somewhat acerbically, when she heard my name being used by the Sheriff for political purposes. Just as I was about to respond, the Duty Desk Sergeant came in. "Commander Troy," he said, "there is a call for you from FBI Agent Muscone. He said to tell you it's 'vitally urgent'." "Thanks, Sergeant." I said, quickly getting up and going to my office to call Jack. 'Vitally urgent' was code between us that it really was 'drop-everything-for-this' important. "Hi Jack, whaddya got?" I asked when he came onto the line. I nearly dropped the phone when he gave me the news... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * I called Lt. Teresa Croyle and Detective Julie Newton into my office. I knew that these two ladies would be the most impacted by what I was going to tell them. "What's up, Commander?" Teresa said, then peered at my somber face as I had them sit down. "Ladies, I will get right to this." I said, my voice grave and serious. "I have just been informed that your former Captain here at the TCPD, Harold Malone, was found dead early this morning." "Oh my God!" Julie exclaimed, tears forming in her eyes. "What happened?" Teresa asked. "Heart attack?" "No." I replied. "He was murdered. I don't have many details, but he was found on the grounds of a farm outside his home town down there, shot in the head at some time during the night last night." Julie had begun weeping, and Teresa put a hand on her shoulder as I continued. "The two of you are excused to go to his funeral, which will be down there in Alabama. In fact, I'd like for you to go as the official representatives of this Police Force, and I'll fully expense it." "Sir, would you excuse me a moment?" Julie asked. She was about to break down. "Certainly." I said. Julie left. Teresa was about to go also, but I stopped her. When she came back close to the desk I said quietly "Find out what you can about what happened and let me know. But be careful, and consider yourself to be in... 'hostile territory', for lack of a better term." "Yes sir." Teresa said, understanding. "Teresa, I know Captain Malone really mentored you before I got here." I said. "My condolences to you." "Thank you, sir. If you'll excuse me, I'll go make sure Julie is all right." Teresa replied. I dismissed her. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Nice little piece on the news this morning." said the rapper 'T-Square' to Reginald Lewis. They were in Lewis's office in the heart of his district, not far from the Old Mill where Police Precinct 2 Headquarters was established. 'T-Square' would have been barely recognizable to his music fans: he was wearing an expensive suit, looking every bit the money-making businessman that he was. Also in the room was the Reverend Joseph E. Williams, pastor of the A.M.E. Church, and a de facto co-leader of the Black Community's political leadership with Councilman Lewis. "It was interesting." said Lewis. "The Sheriff himself asked to meet me, and have the Press there for a photo-op." "Oh really?" said T-Square. "What did he want?" "Keep this under your hats, gentlemen," Lewis said, knowing that neither would, "but he said the FBI believes that the attempt on his life Monday night was by White Supremacists. The Media is already reporting on it as if it's true, and the Sheriff wants the County to know that he has our interests at heart." "And does he? Really?" asked Rev. Williams. "I always thought he did during his campaign." said Lewis. "At least to the point he's not going to work against us. But we'll find out in the near future. It's the type of thing we can use to make sure we have our say and can bend him to our will if the time comes to do so." "When the shit starts spattering," said T-Square, the quietness of his voice lending a chilling aspect to his words, "that Sheriff is not going to be anywhere around. We all know who we're going to be dealing with: the Iron Crowbar." "What about Precinct Captain Thompson?" asked Lewis, mentioning the black police officer. "Won't he be the public face of the Police if and when anything with our People come up?" "For a day or two." said T-Square. "But my man told me that the I.C. is the real deal in this County. My man says the I.C. is the only man of true importance, that he is the one we have to think about." "The only man?" asked the Rev. Williams. He was thinking of a shadowy figure that was more legend than a real man, who was a coordinator of crime that made 'The Teacher' look like a rank amateur. "Yes, the only man." replied T-Square, knowing what and who Rev. Williams was talking about. "The I.C. is the top cat in this County, make no mistake about it." "So why did they try to shoot the Sheriff the other night?" asked Rev. Williams. "Hell if I know." said T-Square. "But I'm hearing that these White Supremacy groups are starting to get organized... there's some common thread starting to pull them together. That's not good for us and our plans, brothers." "No, it's not." said Reginald Lewis. "I'd like to know who is organizing the Whites in this County now. Harold Malone was 'The Man' when he was here, but he's gone now." T-Square's face showed nothing, hiding his concern and knowledge. 'The Teacher' had told him about the other presence in the County, known only as the 'Shadow Man', and had admitted that he (The Teacher) was scared shitless of this shadowy figure, who was believed to be behind several groups of organized criminal activity. The Teacher suspected that this entity, whoever he was, could easily organize militant racist Whites against the upcoming Black agenda... if that was his goal. Part 8 - Councilman Pastor Raymond Westboro "Okay," said Cindy, "the next name on the list is Pastor Raymond Westboro of the First Baptist Church. He is also a Town & County Councilman." "Church pastors have access to a surprising amount of information." Phyllis said. "Yes, and this particular pastor has been friendly with the Oldeeds Organization for some time, giving him further connections." Cindy said. "However, while Don has not eliminated him from the list, Don did go visit Pastor Westboro... alone. If Don thinks Westboro is our 'Big Boy', I don't know if he'd have done that." "True." said Phyllis. "Do you have any other information on him?" Cindy said "He's pretty well-travelled for a local church pastor, even if it's a large church with a regional and even State-level following. He's attended seminars and religious functions all over the Nation, and politicians... of both parties... are frequently inviting him to give invocations at various political functions, which suggests he can talk to people at these events." "And what else?" Phyllis said, seeing that there was more. "Last, but not least," Cindy said, "Pastor Westboro has been openly critical of the Town & County Police, and especially Commander Troy since he came here. If our 'real Moriarty' wants to get rid of the Iron Crowbar by means other than house fires, Westboro's bully pulpits of his church and his Council positions are pretty good ways to press home the attack..." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * On the morning of Friday, January 15th, Pastor Raymond Westboro rose from his chair behind his desk as his guest was brought to his office. "Ah, Steven, come on in!" said Pastor Westboro. "Fully recovered?" "Yes sir." said Ikea, shaking hands with the Pastor then taking the seat being offered to him. "I've been back at work for a few weeks now, also. They had me in Midtown, mostly doing desk work and catching up, but in the last week they've started sending me around to other places, mostly the City, but also to Southport and Madison County. They said I'll mostly be in the City during February and March." "Hmmm..." said Westboro. "Your 'friend' Commander Troy is scheduled to be in Midtown, to work on the SBI legislation with the Governor and politicians. Clearly they do not want you to have contact with him, accidental or intentional." Ikea's face darkened at the name of his nemesis, the man who had physically nearly destroyed him a few months before, and who had apparently thwarted his near-success in bringing the murderer of his idol, the Reverend Jonas Oldeeds, to Justice. "Perhaps, sir." he said politely. Having agitated Ikea, Westboro now brought him back to the lure. "I'm sure you were as sorry as I was to hear of the passing of Harold Malone." Westboro said. He saw Ikea's face light up, unable to hide his pleasure at that news. "Yes, that was unfortunate, wasn't it?" Ikea said. "Couldn't have happened to a more deserving man." "Ye-es." said Westboro. "Well, Steven, I'm so glad you've recovered and have returned to the SBI Narcotics Task Force. But the reason I asked you to stop by today is because I want you to consider something else... becoming a Police Chaplain, perhaps the Chaplain of the SBI. Troy once mentioned it to you, possibly sarcastically, but I really think you are ready for such a position, and it would be a most valuable thing for both of us." "Yes sir," said Ikea, "I've been thinking of it since you mentioned it to me when you visited me in the hospital a few months ago. I've applied to Seminary in the City and I'll be starting during the Summer semester." "Excellent!" Westboro said. "Now, tell me what your leader, Director Jack Lewis, plans for the Narcotics Task Force and the SBI, especially if his side loses the legislative battle... as they will." "Sir?" asked Ikea, startled. "Oh, I can tell you privately, knowing you will keep this between us." said Westboro. "The Governor and the Iron Crowbar are going to win the battle. Katherine Woodburn is too green, too inexperienced, to help her side carry the battle through. But it will be okay, you and Director Lewis will simply have to make lemonade out of lemons." "Yes sir." said Ikea, having not yet fully processed what he had just been told. "By the way," said Westboro, "I'm expecting you to have dinner with me in the City on Saturday evening. We're going to have a special guest: Reverend Robert Patterson, who is poised to take over the Oldeeds Ministries. I am sure it will be an... informative evening..." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The weekend had been quiet and uneventful, except that the FBI tried to spring themselves upon my nephew and his wife, 'encouraging' them to visit FBI Headquarters in the City for interviews about the Nicole Stanton murder. Tina Felton, representing the Burkes, had told the FBI to make appointments with her clients, where they would have legal representation present at any and all questioning. The FBI was 'not amused', and were apparently retrenching in their pursuit of the case. I then heard that Michael Burke had also retained legal counsel and had refused to talk to the FBI except on his terms. On Monday, January 19th, Teresa Croyle was sitting in my office, discussing her trip to Alabama. Cindy was also there. "It was sad, Commander." Teresa said. "It was kind of like Pete Feeley's funeral, though not as large because there aren't as many people where Captain-, er Chief Malone was living. And no black people came to the funeral or the procession to the cemetery... all whites." "How were the people down there?" I asked. "Friendly enough to us." Teresa said. "Mrs. Malone was nice to me, a bit formal with Julie. A lot of the police there were asking us about his career up here, and I gave them the nicer aspects of him." "Of course." I said. "Now, what did you learn about how he was killed?" Teresa hesitated, sucked in her breath, then began: "This much I found out. The Phillips Plantation is an old plantation house that's still in decent repair though no one lives there anymore. Someone leased the land from the family to grow peanuts, soybeans and cotton, and the house has been used as a guesthouse from time to time." She continued: "One of Chief Malone's officers was kind enough to drive me to the site. The so-called front yard of the plantation house is rows of peanuts. About 200 yards to the right side of the house as you face it was where his body was found. His patrol car was parked right behind the house. There were a lot of footprints, obviously of the officers investigating the murder." Teresa continued: "No one could tell me why Chief Malone was out in the field, and people kind of got quiet about it. Someone, one of the town wives, suggested he'd gone out there to see if kids were doing something or if a drug deal was going down. As for the Police, they said he had not given any forewarning that he was going out there, had not called in for help. He was only found when an anonymous phone call came in to the Police Station at 4:30am, saying his car was at the site, and they found him fairly soon afterwards." "No information on possible crime activities in the area?" I asked. "No sir," said Teresa, "and again, people got quiet when I asked about it. I didn't press because I wanted them to think I only wanted to know what had happened to my mentor, but I think they knew more than they cared to reveal." "How was Julie?" I asked. "She held steady for the most part." Teresa said. "I talked to her some on the flight down. She was pretty quiet on the way back. I'm pretty sure she and Captain Malone were... close, if you know what I mean." "I do." I said. "Teresa, let me ask you this: did anyone, other than Mrs. Malone, act as if they knew Julie, or did she seem to know anyone there?" Teresa thought about that. "No sir." she finally said. "We were both total strangers to everyone... except Mrs. Malone, of course, and some of the people who came from our County's First Baptist Church that had known the Malones. My understanding is that the Church has a 'funeral delegation' for former members who have since left Town and died elsewhere, and the Church pays for the trip..." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Tuesday, January 20th. The Town & County Council were meeting in formal session. After their public business, taking complaints from the Townspeople and such, they called for Executive Session, to discuss the structure and personnel of the Public Service Department and its various branches. Promotions and pay raises would be discussed. Most of it was pro forma, with the proposed promotions and raises of uniformed Police and Fire personnel being approved by rote. Malinda Adams objected to the lack of women being promoted, per usual, and Edward R. Steele asked why once again there were no promotions proposed for EMTs. But otherwise, it was pretty straightforward. "Captain Charles is retiring," said the Mayor, "and we don't have to formally approve it, but his replacement is going to be hired from the outside." The mayor named the replacement and his sterling record. Though not fully necessary, the Council passed a resolution approving the hire by voice vote. Then came the discussions for the position of Police Chief. And that's when the fights started. "Okay," said Mayor Larry Vaughan, the People's Choice. "We have several good candidates for Chief of Police. Unfortunately, the best one of all, Commander Troy, has declined to consider accepting the position." "Good." said Malinda Adams, the uber-feminist. "It's only a matter of time before we're going to have to defend a police brutality lawsuit on his behalf. He carries around that crowbar, even has one of his Lieutenants carrying one. It looks like our police are a bunch of thugs, not the Peace Officers they are meant to be." "I agree that it's good that Troy is not going to be considered." said Kelly Carnes, who was a very rich trophy wife and also claimed to be religious." The Eightfold Fence Ch. 03 "All the more reason to ask Commander Troy to reconsider and become Chief." replied Dagmar Schoen, John "Jack" Colby's ally. Dagmar and Kelly were bitter enemies, on the Council and off of it. "I have to agree with Ms. Adams," said Pastor Westboro, "that Commander Troy, despite his brilliant successes, is not the proper choice. My reasons, however, are not the same. I believe he will be an FBI Agent before too long, and we'll be having this discussion all over again." "He's turned down the FBI, but accepted a consultant position." replied Jack Colby in the deep baritone voice that totally belied his slender, wiry cowboy frame. "Why in the world would he leave now?" "Okay, guys," said Mayor Vaughan, "I want to get out of here before sunrise, and we already know the Iron Crowbar is not going to become Chief, at least not this year. So let's see. Our candidates are Precinct Captain Susan Weston, Lieutenant Harold Bennett, Captain Robert Brownlee, Precinct Captain Holsom 'Hal' Briggs, and Lieutenant Scott Peterson. They've all applied except Bennett and Weston. Bennett was nominated by Sheriff Allgood, and Weston by Councilwoman Malinda Adams." "We should consider a woman for the Chief position, even if we have to hire from outside the local Police Department." said Malinda Adams, as if needing to defend her nomination of Weston. "A woman would best lead our Peace Officers in their mission." "In that case, I nominate Commander Troy's wife." said Jack Colby. "She's the only woman in this town that can handle the Iron Crowbar." That drew some laughter. "Be careful." replied J.P. Goldman, the wealthy bankster. "I might take you seriously. Dr. Fredricson is an amazing woman." "The sexual deviancy professor? She's a whore." said Kelly Carnes venomously. "Watch your language." replied Colby, staring daggers at Carnes. It was a direct threat. "I'm sure that Mrs. Carnes is extremely familiar with whores." said Dagmar Schoen. If looks could kill, Kelly Carnes would be under arrest for murder for the look she gave Dagmar, who stared back with equal hatred. "Enough!" said Mayor Vaughan. "Good grief. Okay, folks, you have the names. We're going to eliminate at least a couple of them tonight. Okay, let's go around the table. Malinda?" "As I've said, I'll only consider Captain Weston." replied Malinda Adams. "If I may," said Thomas P. Cook, "I'd suggest that Lt. Scott Peterson, while an able Media Relations Officer, is far too inexperienced both in field work and administration." There was general agreement. "Okay, so Peterson is out of the running." said the mayor. "At this point in time, I want to bring up something. We also need a Deputy Chief, and I'd prefer to promote from within than hire from outside for that position. The Deputy Chief is third-in-command, after the Chief and Commander positions." "I think we should change that." said Kelly Carnes. "The Deputy Chief should be second-in-command, ahead of the Commander." "There's a reason it's the way it is." hissed Dagmar Schoen. "The Commander is in charge of the Officers. The Deputy Chief is an Administrator, not the leader we expect the Chief and Commander to be." "Folks," said the Mayor, "I remember when we created this structure when the Town and County merged. We never really expected to fill either Commander slot. Griswold jumped us good when he had us put Troy in the Commander slot, and I think it was an excellent move on Griswold's part... but I digress. The reason it's the way it is, is because the Deputy Chief is like a military Executive Officer: he's about 'beans and bullets', supplies and administration. The Commander is in charge of the Officers, all of the Officers, on the Police Force, as well as the Operations Officer. I will not entertain changes to that." And that was the final word on that subject. "I can tell you right now," said Ian McGhillie, whose son was on the Police Force, "the new Chief must be someone his officers respect." "If I may, ladies and gentlemen," said Pastor Westboro, subtly taking charge of the others, "I've studied all of these candidates thoroughly, as well as a few from outside. We can talk about those for the Chief position later. I do agree that we should promote our Deputy Chief from inside." Westboro continued, his voice seemingly soft but deceptively strong and commanding: "I believe Precinct Captain Weston is well suited for where she is, gaining experience for the future. Lt. Peterson is indeed too young. Precinct Captain Briggs is too laid back; he's merely waiting for his retirement. And that leaves Brownlee and Bennett. Brownlee is an excellent administrator. Bennett is good, and a bit older man. He had field experience as a younger officer that Brownlee did not acquire. I believe Captain Brownlee would be the best choice for Deputy Chief." Reginald B.F. Lewis finally spoke up: "I agree with Pastor Westboro on that. I also have not heard discussed an important aspect of this conversation: the Police Union." A small groan was heard at this bringing up of something they'd wanted to avoid. "I can give assurances that the Police Union will strongly support Captain Brownlee's nomination to Deputy Chief." Pastor Westboro had not said out loud what he knew to be true: that Brownlee and Commander Troy did not like each other and would be very antagonistic to each other. But Kelly Carnes had no problem bringing it up as she said "I think Captain Brownlee would be a wonderful counterweight to Commander Troy. Brownlee won't let Troy run away with things like Troy has been doing. Brownlee will keep Troy in line." "He'd damn well better not do so at the expense of the ability of the Police Force to do its job." replied Dagmar Schoen. "Okay, let's take a ten minute recess." said the Mayor. "No use of cellphones. When we get back, we'll consider filling the Deputy Chief position. There will have to be a second reading, so we'll have to meet next Tuesday and make it official, but we'll decide before we go home." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Wednesday, January 21st. John 'Jack' Colby had called the night before and asked me and Daniel Allgood to have breakfast with him and Dagmar Schoen at 6:00am at his Country Breakfast Diner. The food was delicious... the news was not. "It's Brownlee for Deputy Chief." Colby said. "Partially to keep him out of the Chief's job, which Kelly Carnes wanted. But it was hard to argue with his years of administrative experience and Union ties." Sheriff Allgood looked over at me. My eyes were downcast. "Damn." was all I said. "Don," said Dagmar, "you're still Acting Chief, and always over him, never behind him." "That's not the problem." I replied. "It's that Brownlee is just about the worst possible choice. He's a paper-pusher because he's always been too incompetent to be a field officer. He's a vindictive son of a bitch, and in his position, he can cut off our supplies, cut our training, and make things a living hell for me, and- oh shit..." "What?" "He'll be in charge of I.T., too, won't he?" I said, looking up at Colby. "Not for now." said Colby, avoiding what we all realized was coming. "You're still I.T. Supervisor, as you never gave up the position." "Jack," said Allgood, "I've already heard from the Union about it. They want I.T., at least the physical part of it, under the Deputy Chief and out of Commander Troy's hands. And structurally, I can't argue with them. I'm grappling with I.T. for all the Public Service departments, so I'm holding the Union off, at least for now. But Don, be prepared for the coming war on that." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * There was tension at Police Headquarters. I don't know how people find out things so fast, but Brownlee's impending promotion was already known. Brownlee himself was strutting around Headquarters, grinning like a Cheshire Cat. I didn't think the day could get worse. I was wrong. Very, very wrong. Just after 9:00am, my personal cellphone rang. It was my wife Laura. "Don," I heard my wife say, her voice solemn and quiet, "you need to come up to University Hospital, right now. Teresa brought Cindy in earlier this morning. Doctor Morgan called me and said he needs to talk to you." It took every bit of strength I possessed not to drop the phone. "I'll be right there." I said. I rushed out, telling Helena I was going to the Hospital. I tore out of the parking lot, blue lights blazing, sirens blaring. I might have driven like a maniac through Town. Once at University Hospital, I went up to the floor where I knew the examinations were being done. No one tried to stop me. I got to a room and, looking inside the slender window in the door, I saw Cindy Ross sitting on an examination table. Teresa Croyle was sitting next to Cindy, her arm around her friend. Cindy's head was bowed low; I could only see the top of her platinum blonde head. Just then Dr. Morgan came around the corner, his face somber. "Ah, there you are Commander. Would you please step into this other room with me?" Fear welled up in my soul as I followed the doctor into the next-door room. To be continued. The Eightfold Fence Ch. 04 The chronological order of my stories is as follows: Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10, The Murdered Football Player Series, Case of the Black Widow series, Teresa's Christmas Story, The Case of the Black Badge series, A Case of Revenge series, Teresa's Summer Race, The Trilogy series, Dark Side Of The Force series, Caught In The Act series, Case of the Murdered Bride series, The Credit Card Caper series, The Hot Wives Investment Club series, Seriously Inconvenienced series, Case of the Paper Trail series, Christmas Mystery Theater, The Porno Set Mystery series, The Medical Murder Mystery series. The Eightfold Fence, Ch. 01-04. Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas. This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above. ***** Part 9 - Councilman Thomas P. Cook Doctor Morgan put an x-ray up on the lighted panel. I could see the spot on Cindy's lower lung. Oh my God, I thought to myself. Dr. Morgan said "It seems that Ross and Croyle began their training for the summer ironman competition, and the extreme exertions coupled with the cold air inflamed the scar tissue in Lt. Ross's lung, which was injured when she was wounded last summer." I almost collapsed with relief. "So that's why she was coughing." I said. "So this is all it is?" "All?" said Dr. Morgan. "I... the way she was coughing..." I said, barely able to say the words, "I thought you were going to tell me it was cancer or something..." "Oh... oh!" said Dr. Morgan, smiling briefly. "Well, maybe you police officers have to expect the worst, but in this case it's not life-threatening." Thank God, I thought. I felt instantly better despite the Doctor's next words. "But it is serious." he said. "The inflammation led to some fluid buildup. Her other lung is fine, so she can breathe decently, but if she keeps up the exertions she's going to have some trouble. She needs to rest completely for a few days, then take it easy for a few more weeks and let the inflammation die down." "Just how much can she do?" I asked. "She didn't have any problems... none that she'll admit to... until she started this intensive marathon training." said Dr. Morgan. "She is in tremendous physical condition, so she should be able to pass any police duty requirements. But she needs to be aware of this and not overdo things. And the summer race is out of the question for her." "Ouch." I said. "Okay, thanks Doctor. I'll go put a leash on her." I exited the room and entered Cindy's room without knocking. "Okayyyy, Miss Ross." I said, trying to sound jovial. Teresa looked up at me, Cindy kept her head down. "You will go home and sleep for the rest of the day. I know that it would be easier to stop sap from running in the trees than try to keep you from coming to work, but for the rest of this week and all next week you will stay at your desk, catch up on paperwork, be bored as hell, and rest. If I catch you so much as walking fast, I'll formally restrict you, meaning you'll have to be medically cleared -and- have to re-qualify with a gun, and I suspect you don't want to do that." That was no small thing, and Cindy was aware of it. "Do I make myself clear, Lieutenant?" "Yes sir." I heard a voice say from somewhere under that platinum blonde hair. "Teresa, take her home." I said. "Make sure she actually goes to bed and rests. I'll tell Jenna when I get back to Headquarters." I then left the room. For all her life, Cindy Ross had been told what she could not do, was not capable of doing. She had delighted in proving people wrong every time. She had excelled at sports, mens' sports, despite being told girls could not compete with men. She had won 'Miss Physical America' competitions despite being told she was not good enough. She had become a police officer despite being told she lacked the ability in several areas. She had earned two black belts after being told that just one would be difficult-to-impossible for her. She and Teresa had defeated all competition in the race last summer, including some very fit Army Rangers. She had survived a shooting that everyone said should have been fatal. Now her body was unable to cash a check she wanted to write. For the first time she was being told she could not do something, and she knew she couldn't prove otherwise. It hurt. Not physically, but in her heart and soul. It hurt. "You'll have to find someone else to be your partner." Cindy said, trying hard to hold back the sobs. "Maybe... maybe Todd will train with you; he's in really good shape." "No way in hell." Teresa said. "You're my only partner, and if you're watching from the sidelines, I will be too. We'll retire as champions; they can never take away what we've already done." She took Cindy into her arms as her friend broke down crying. They sat there for a very long time... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Previously, during her conversation with Phyllis, Cindy said "Councilman Thomas P. Cook has been steadily coming onto the Iron Crowbar's radar screens. Don absolutely did not like it that Cook is profiting from the deal for the building for Precinct 1 Headquarters, and he liked it even less when he found out the connection to Sergeant Sharples and the building where the porn film guy was murdered." "Oh my." said Phyllis. "That is somewhat suggestive in itself, is it not?" "How do you mean?" Cindy inquired. "Give it some thought, my dear." Phyllis said. "What else do you have on Mr. Cook?" Cindy replied "I thought this was kind of strange: Most people think Cook is religious. He's very active with the First Baptist Church, has attended out-of-town religious seminars with Pastor Westboro from time to time. Additionally, he is registered as a Republican. However, I found out from required election filings that he gave large sums of money, the maximum possible, to Katherine Woodburn's campaign... and Katherine Woodburn ran as a Democrat. Each of his businesses gave their maximum to her campaign, and he also contributed to PACs that were established on her behalf." "That's not so unusual in today's world, my dear." said Phyllis. "If you also consider what happened to John Cummings, how the Republicans did nothing to help him when he needed it the most, you'll see that the Republicans and Democrats are much more closely aligned than citizens realize. I heard an excellent quote about it: 'The Republicans are the right cheek and Democrats are the left cheek of the same butt.' I daresay that's absolutely true." Cindy laughed, then coughed hard. Phyllis peered at her again then said "Neither Republicans nor Democrats today represent those who consider themselves conservative, like John Cummings. The Republicans attack and fight conservatives even harder than they pretend to oppose Democrats. I would say Thomas Cook is acting as a typical Republican: gives one appearance to the world, does something else in the background. And he doesn't want our right hand to know what his left hand is doing." Cindy said 'That's why I'm a political atheist, and Jenna hates it that I won't have anything to do with politics: she wants me to push lesbian issues. But what you've said does help me to understand Cook's actions a bit more. And he's really got his fingers in a lot of rather sketchy pies. I wonder..." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * On Wednesday morning, January 21st, State Senator Katherine Woodburn received a visitor at her Senate office in the State Office Building in Town, which was right next to the Federal Building on Courthouse Square. "Hello, Thomas, come on in." said State Senator Katherine Woodburn as Thomas P. Cook was ushered in by her assistant. "It's good to see you again. What can I do for you?" "I just thought I'd drop by," said Cook, "and tell you that we were able to get Robert Brownlee into the Deputy Chief position with the Police Force. He'll be promoted and take over the position on February 1st." "Oh, that's wonderful news!" Katherine exclaimed. She then smiled maliciously as she asked "Does Commander Troy know?" "I would imagine that he was told this morning." said Cook, his smile matching Katherine's. "The only dissenting votes were Schoen and Colby. McGillie abstained, citing that his son is on the Police Force. Adams, Lewis, Carnes, Westboro, and myself were solid supporters. Goldman and Steele gave support, but extracted something in return: that Troy gets veto power over the Chief nomination." "That's not so great." Katherine said. "He pretty much was going to get that anyway." Cook replied. "We're really giving away nothing. So tell me, how are things going in the Legislature?" "Pretty well." Katherine said. "The budget is already done. I tried hard to cut funding for the TCPD, pending a State investigation of Troy for police brutality. I got some heat, but I pushed back... seems those spineless politicians didn't remember that I was once the toughest Media executive in the State... but the Conference Committee put the money back in and all but wrote a commendation for the bastard with the crowbar. Seems Nathan Allen tried the same thing last year, to block the funding, and they were looking for it and caught it." "Doesn't matter." said Cook. "It's the bringing up of Troy's police brutality that's important. Once it's in people's ears, it will stick." "It'll stick even more after the Bryan Thatcher trial next month." Katherine said, referring to the case of the dog abuser. "Anyway, the real battle comes up in the next few weeks: the SBI structure." "Who is going to win that one?" Cook inquired. "We are, of course." Katherine said. "Seriously, it's going to be close... maybe one vote either way. The House might vote for Conlan's side, which is for the SBI Reserve; while the Senate may go for Director Lewis's stronger SBI position, which is our side. Both sides are well-entrenched, and we'll just have to find a way to twist some arms and make everyone come to our side." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Jack Muscone and I entered the conference room of the FBI offices in the Town's Federal Building on the morning of Friday, January 23d. The Deputy Director was already there, and I felt not only the mastery and power he always projected, but something else: irritation. "Have a seat, gentlemen." he said. As we were all seated, the Director said "First, I'm glad to hear that Miss Ross is not seriously ill and will be making a full recovery. I shared your concerns about her, and I'm as glad as you are that she is okay." I nodded, saving for later the contemplation that this man knew far too much more about Cindy's condition than he should, as the Director continued: "Getting straight to business... I've received what will likely be the final report of my special task force investigating the murder of Nicole Stanton. Commander Troy, this is the first time you and I have been at odds on anything: your nephew and his wife were very reticent to speak to my agents, and acted as if they were under suspicion themselves. Michael Burke talked with my agents, but also insisted upon legal counsel." I just nodded as the man peered hard at me, making no apologies for recommending to my family that they exercise extreme caution. "Just so you know," the Deputy Director continued, "I do not consider Todd Burke nor his wife to be suspects. I also am shutting the inquiry down mostly because I don't want to burn Cherie Ward as a confidential informant, which we've been able to confirm as being true. What I want to know, Commander, and don't play games with me here: who do you think did this?" The man wanted to know what I knew despite the lack of data, and I knew it was time to put my cards on the table. "I don't think Todd or Jeanine had anything to do with it, either," I said, "but I did advise them to use caution when dealing with your agents, and I still think that was wise. But here is what I've observed and deduced and inferred from what I've been told in private conversations so far." I began: "Cherie said that Michael Burke hired her specifically and asked her to bring someone else along. That was Nicole, and I noted that they arrived in separate cars. Now what is strange about that is that if Cherie is telling the truth, then why didn't she and Nicole drive up together? It's a two-hour trip from here, and an even longer drive from the City, so why come separately?" "You may want to say that they did so in the contingency that one might leave before the other, but then I'm also thinking that if Michael Burke is hiring these women at the rates he was paying, why not throw in a few extra bucks and have them picked up and transported. Burke has hired prostitutes in the past to entertain business clients, so he knows the routines. All in all, I found that to be strange." I carried on, seeing the Director and Jack totally absorbed by my lecture: "Second was the strangeness that the car keys were missing. Now if a criminal was kidnapping Nicole and forcing her out of the car, why would she take her keys? My thinking is that she took the keys as she got out of the car, by habit, because she knew her killer and was not afraid of him or her.." I saw the Director nod, and Jack looked totally amazed as I said "But before she could get her purse, the killer either grabbed her or put a gun in her face. She either had the keys in her hand when he killed her, or she dropped them and he picked them up and simply took them away. I say 'he' as if the killer were a man, but it could be a woman, of course." "Nicole also carried a concealed weapon." I said. "Now if she's being accosted by a stranger and going for her gun, she's not going to be grabbing her keys out of the ignition, and I cannot for the life of me see why the killer would take the time to take the keys out of the ignition but leave her purse there." "To unlock the trunk and get something out of there?" Jack Muscone asked. "Her luggage was in the trunk, untouched; she'd never brought it into the house. Nothing else was missing that we know of." I said. "So I may be wrong, but I'm not seeing the killer getting in the trunk, and he could've popped the latch from inside the car." I continued: "All in all, it leads to another big question for me: 'Who took the weapon from her purse?'. I suspect the gun was removed before Nicole left the Burke house. And that leads to the conclusion that either Cherie or Michael Burke took it. Either had opportunities to be alone for brief moments and take the weapon. It most likely was Cherie, but we cannot exclude Michael. And of course that means that the murder was premeditated." "Ohhhh..." said the Director, beginning to see the picture. "Yes sir." I said. "Michael Burke invited Cherie up, apparently to entertain Todd and apparently knowing that Cherie and Todd knew each other. According to Cherie, she is the one who asked Nicole to come up, yet it is Nicole that was murdered and her gun removed beforehand." Jack Muscone intervened with a question: "But Michael Burke basically confirmed that he hired Cherie and asked her to bring someone else. but he didn't ask for anyone else specifically." Yes." I said. "Yes he did. Which is why I cannot and have not eliminated him as a suspect in all of this. But again: Cherie says she, not Michael, invited Nicole specifically... but they came up in separate cars and apparently at separate times, since Cherie had brought her luggage into Michael's cabin while Nicole had not. So I'm wondering if she was telling me the truth when I talked to her." "Wow." said the Director. "Now that you discuss it, I see where these seemingly separate things are actually correlated. Please continue, Don." "Yes sir." I said. "Means and opportunity, or lack of it, shows it was an outsider that actually committed the murder. I'm taking the collective word of the four people in the cabin and I believe no one was away and alone long enough to go out and kill Nicole either at the scene or to transport her there, especially in the hour following Nicole's departure. And the outsider was someone Nicole knew, so there is a collusion there. That shows premeditation and planning." I added: "I did consider that Cherie was the actual target, which leads to Michael Burke being involved for some reason. It's still a possibility that I cannot rule out." "At any rate, that leaves motive." I continued. "There is one strong thread that I can see: First, Cherie was definitely at the scene when Senator Nathan Allen had his heart attack and died. I personally remember her being there, and at least one of my officers remembers her being there. We're less sure about Nicole being there, but we think she was. Second, Michael Burke and his wife Eleanor were obsessed with finding out about their son Jack Burke's past. They were given help in this by someone... a very powerful someone." Jack Muscone's beady eyes lit up when I mentioned this. "Our friend Wargrave." he said. "Our friend Wargrave." the Director repeated as he and Muscone exchanged a meaningful glance. "Funny how he's been in the shadows all these years," I said, "and now his name is popping up all over the place." My words were intended to show something that neither FBI agent understood, so I let it go as the Director said with what was for him a smile: "There wasn't an Iron Crowbar shedding light upon his shadows all those years either, Commander Troy." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Katherine Woodburn groaned as the Satyr pistoned his long, thick cock in and out of her sopping wet pussy again and again, fucking her with hard, driving strokes. He had her legs hooked over his muscular arms has he plowed into her relentlessly, driving towards his climax. As he leaned over and sucked Katherine's left breast, she looked over at the other people in the room. The young woman known as the 'Queen of Opposition Research', a typically unattractive, wiry girl with glasses that had been brought up and bred in liberal Academia, was on her hands and knees, her ass in the air, and sucking the slender cock of Gor-don, the punk assistant of Assistant District Attorney Jenna Stiles... the same Jenna Stiles that was engaged to Police Lieutenant Cindy Ross. Watching everything and waiting his turn was Clark, Katherine's black-haired assistant. He watched the big cock of the Satyr, who was one of the BDSM queen Rita's club staff, sinking into Katherine until he was buried to the balls, only to withdraw and slam into her again. Katherine heard the young man on top of her grunt as he bottomed out inside her and began coming, the thick spurts of ropy jism firing from his pulsing cock and coating the depths of the older woman's clutching cunt. Finally spent, the hung young man eased his meat out of the woman and went to make himself a drink. "Want some sloppy seconds?" Katherine asked. Clark was eager to fuck his mistress, and as she turned onto her right side he eased down behind her in a 'spoons' position. Katherine grabbed his throbbing cock and guided it to her sperm-wet hole, inserting the spongy cockhead between her labes. Clark then pushed forward, and his eight inch cock easily slid into the filthy mess inside her cunt, pushing her cuntwalls apart, sliding in on a slick layer of cunt oil and semen until he was nuts-deep inside her. The Eightfold Fence Ch. 04 As she was being fucked, Katherine again watched the others. After a few moments the Satyr's cock was hard again; he had taken a Viagra as he did every day. He eased himself behind the other woman's upturned ass and fit his large cockhead into her slit. Pushing forward, he drove his meat into the woman until he was balls-deep inside her. The woman groaned as she continued to suck Gor-don's cock. Gor-don wouldn't last much longer, Katherine noted, and she was right. A moment later the young punk eased his cock out of her mouth and began climaxing, shooting his load onto the other woman's face, coating her glasses, nose and mouth with globs of semen. The Satyr held the woman's hips and continued to pound steadily into her, driving his groin into her ass with loud, wet smacks. Matching those smacking sounds was Clark as he pumped Katherine, fucking her sodden cunt into a creamy, spermy lather. The Satyr had given Katherine the information she'd wanted to know: Ward's group of Four were bringing in someone from the outside to acquire some technology that most believed had died with Jody Corrigan's rogue CIA cell. Katherine knew that Ward was in league with Seth Warner's sister Karen and Todd Burke's mother Elizabeth, and they were probing to find weaknesses in BOW Enterprises. To Katherine's chagrin, the Satyr did not know who their 'Number Four' was, and she was very eager to learn that person's identity. Meanwhile, Gor-don was keeping Katherine well-informed on what was going on inside the D.A.'s office, as well as what the Iron Crowbar and his top Lieutenant, the woman that was Jenna Stiles's girlfriend, were doing. She'd cautioned Gor-don not to create problems that would cause the Iron Crowbar to kick him to the kerb. But now... that didn't matter, Katherine thought, pleasure coursing through her loins from Clark's fucking as well as the thought that came to her: she now had another mark inside Police Headquarters, and a high-level one at that: Robert Brownlee was totally in her power, and they both knew it. She'd met Brownlee at the bar of the Hyatt Hotel north of the City, making sure to sit where she was not easily seen while he was observed easily. Brownlee was eager to begin antagonizing the Iron Crowbar, and she'd let him rant but told him not to overdo it, that it was more important to get as much info on the Iron Crowbar's operations... and weaknesses. She'd want to create something to cause Troy problems soon, but wanted Brownlee to begin shaping the TCPD to his way and will while Troy was working on the SBI legislation in Midtown. She'd made one observation very quickly: Brownlee was an idiot and a fool. He was easily manipulable, but he also was a hothead that would likely become more trouble than he was worth. Clark groaned as he came, adding his own essence to the filthy, frothy mess that was Katherine's well-fucked cunt. They watched as the Satyr pulled his cock out of the other woman and fired jets of semen onto her quivering asscheeks and slender back. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Austin L. Murphy entered the office of Henry Wargrave, seeing the tall, ash-blonde man behind his desk, staring out the window at the magnificent view afforded by being on the 30th floor... but Wargrave was not seeing that view as he was lost in thought. "Hello, Austin." Wargrave said quietly. "What brings you here?" "I just came to tell you," said Murphy, "that Dawn Starrett was found dead last week up in the mountains north of here. Cherie was near the location at the time." "Yes, I know." Wargrave said. It was a slip, but Murphy did not catch it. "I also just found out that Harold Malone is dead." said Murphy. "He was shot in the night at the Phillips Plantation." "I heard about that." said Wargrave, realizing that Murphy had slipped in knowing the name of the farm. "Rifle shot from at least 200 yards away, the local police say." "I'm working on getting a full report now." said Murphy. "But what I came to tell you is that Muscone of the FBI is taking an interest in it... and Fredricson of the CIA is, also." Wargrave whirled to face Murphy. "Fredricson? That's not good. Not good at all. Muscone, we can handle easily. But if Fredricson gets involved, that could hurt us internationally." "Yes sir." said Murphy. "I'm also hearing chatter that the FBI really wants to start looking into you and your operations, and right at this critical juncture." Wargrave nodded as he silently and internally sighed. This was not good. He'd been effectively cut off from Conrad King and his network, and now the man with whom he was working was acting strangely, unpredictably. Wargrave felt nervous and jumpy. Added to it was that the Oldeeds Group was about to resolve their power struggle issues. Wargrave had wanted to get in on that, renew ties with the group, but once again he felt himself being boxed out and he remained on the fringe of that. And now the SBI legislative battles were coming up... and right there was the Iron Crowbar, gaining influence with politicians that he, Troy, had no idea how to properly use... and maybe didn't even realize the gold mine he was sitting on. Geez... and all this after some idiot set fire to the old Bonniker cabin, with the Iron Crowbar and his family asleep inside. "What do you want to do, sir?" asked Murphy. "Right now, just find out exactly what happened to Malone, then tell our people down there to be on the alert for the FBI sneaking in and looking around." said Wargrave. "I was counting on Malone, probably more than I should have. His death is going to cause me a lot of hassle, and cost us a lot of money... and for all those billions I allegedly have, money... real money... is getting tight. Things are getting ugly in the Middle East, as well." After a moment and a few more explicit instructions, Wargrave said "Thank you for coming by, Austin. I'll talk with you again soon." Murphy nodded in acknowledgement of the dismissal, and exited the office. Wargrave turned back to the window, letting his mind think, coalescing everything he knew and expected to happen. He realized the focal point of his danger: Laura Fredricson. A conflict and resolution a long time in the making was now beginning to happen. And it did not make things one bit easier for Wargrave that she was the wife of the most dangerous man in the entire State, the one man Henry R. Wargrave had truly come to fear: the Iron Crowbar... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Tuesday, January 27th. Jack Muscone and I were standing on a patch of plowed ground as the sun was sinking towards the ground in the western sky. I was thinking that in warmer weather there would be the leaves of peanut plants sprouting up... and rattlesnakes meandering through those plants on the hunt for field mice. "Okay, here is where Malone was shot." Muscone said, pointing to where the chalked outline of a body was still visible (they still do that in some places? I wondered; I guess they do) as well as a ton of footprints and vehicle prints. "Two hundred yards east is the farmhouse, and the front door of the farmhouse faces north. I guess this was a plantation back in the old days. And the area behind the house is fenced off; it's a cattle ranch now." "Probably." I said, looking around. "So tell me again why we're here?" Muscone said "My boss wanted an eyes-on look at the place. Malone was shot in the dead of night out here, in the right cheek. Looks like a shot from long range, not up close. Now I don't believe for a minute that he was here looking for teenagers as the townspeople had said. We think he was working a drug deal, or..." "Or an arms deal for Wargrave." I said quietly, letting my FBI friend know that I was not the dumbest rock in the box. "You wife tell you?" Muscone grunted. "No." I said truthfully. "I was following up on the attempt on Daniel Allgood, and a nugget came out that Wargrave's private plane landed in Columbus, Georgia. The only reason that even came out was because Ft. Benning, GA is next to Columbus, and they routinely track flights in and out of Columbus." "Ah, Ft. Benning." Muscone said. "You chewed some dirt there, didn't you?" "For a few weeks." I said, 'fondly' remembering my time at Airborne School at Ft. Benning. But then that thought left me... I saw the hint of the rising dust cloud on the horizon. And I knew what it meant. "Jack, we gotta go." I said, racing to the car. Jack did not follow, so I ran back and grabbed him and literally shoved him towards the car. "We gotta go now, Jack!" I shouted. "What the fuck??" Jack asked, confused. I did not answer, but got him into the front passenger seat, then ran around and took the driver seat. We would now see how my former Military Police and Police Academy drivers' training served me as I gunned the engine and headed down the dirt track... not towards the highway, from where the dust cloud was coming, but the other way... through the cattle farm areas. "What's going on, Don?" Jack asked, holding on for dear life and I bumped through the uneven terrain. "Look behind us." I said. "They're coming for us." Jack looked in the side mirror, then turned and looked out the back window. "They're cops!" he said. "It's okay, Don!" "Like hell it is!" I thundered back. "If they catch up to us, we'll be as dead as Harold Malone!" I gunned it even faster as I headed for the county highway up ahead. "By the way, Eglin AFB in Florida or Ft. Benning, which do you want to make a break for?" "Eglin." Jack said. "I've got contacts there." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * We were seated in a small room near the main airstrip at Eglin Air Force Base near Pensacola, Florida, waiting for an FBI plane to come pick us up and transport us back to the City. Getting away from our pursuers had not been too difficult: we had a radio in our car and Jack had contacted an FBI frequency, getting some agents to run interference for us, and also getting the Alabama Highway Patrol to escort us to the Florida state line. "So," said Jack, "want to tell me what that was all about?" "Malone's guys... maybe his real cops or maybe guys faking being cops... were coming for us." I replied. "I think they believe the Feds shot Malone, or at least want to make an example of us... lots of 'States Rights' types down here. That... or they had instructions to look out for us and eliminate us if they caught us." I continued: "And that's why I suggested we come in here quietly instead of contacting local law enforcement as we normally would. I didn't trust them. I guess someone saw us and called the local cops." Jack said sardonically "Sounds like Coltrane County just south of yours... naah, I shouldn't say that, their new Sheriff Sorrells and Deputy Strait are trying to make improvements." "True." I said. "And yes, it's a 'good ole boy' network down here as well as there. And lots of white people in both counties not liking the other ethnicities, if you know what I mean." "Yes. Yes I do. So," Jack said, "since you seem to know what's going on, and predicted the possibility of these guys coming after us, why don't you tell me who shot Harold Malone." "Oh isn't it obvious?" I said. "But I'll give you one clue, then say no more: Remember that phrase 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.'?" "Ohhhhh..." Jack said quietly. "Remind me not to try to shoot any Town & County Sheriffs anytime soon." "Or University Professors and CIA officers the scorned person might be related to by blood..." I replied. "From where did she shoot?" asked Jack. "The farmhouse itself." I said. "Probably a second floor window. Took out Malone, then scooted to the back cattle ranch and made her way to a vehicle from there..." Part 10 - Epilogue: Retirements and Promotions Sunday night, February 1st. Because it was Sunday, the promotions would not occur until the next morning, February 2nd. The members of the Orange Order, the Police Honorary Society, were gathering for dinner at the Junction Station Depot. Uniforms were forbidden; most of the attendees were in 'business casual', while a few wore suits. There were no ranks at this gathering; all were considered equals. Yet everyone still called Chief Griswold "Chief", and were reticent to call my by my first name; most called me "sir" as if it were my name. I was sitting down next to Cindy Ross. She'd had a number of people inquire of her health and commiserate with her not being able to defend her triathlon title. She endured it stoically. She'd pretty much come to terms with it, and the boredom of my informal restrictions upon her duties was her biggest challenge. She had again encouraged Teresa to take a new partner, particularly Todd, but Teresa had said that without Cindy, her (Teresa's) heart would not be in it enough to win, and winning was what mattered. For Teresa, the race was about sisterhood, as was the race she and her sister Alexis had won all those years before. But interestingly, Todd did show interest in the race, and Cindy was now coaching and training my stud nephew and his friend Teddy Franklin in their new training regimen. At some point in the evening of the Orange Order dinner, the discussion of the next day's promotions came up. Most of the uniformed officers' advancements had been discussed (Morton and Hicks were getting pay grade raises, I was happy to report), and the big one, Robert Brownlee, was not discussed until nearly the very end. Of course, everyone wanted to know how I felt about it, and even though what was said here was considered secret and stayed here, I had to be evenhanded in my replies. Chief Griswold was not fooled. "Captain Charles's replacement has accepted the position and is already here." I said, avoiding the subject as I talked to the Chief. "Yes, and I like the young man you're bringing in." replied the Chief as we sipped bourbon. "But let's stop beating around the bush and talk about the real issue here: Brownlee." I grimaced and the Chief said ""I was afraid of this. I was afraid the Council would do this. Brownlee is a good administrator, but he is a bitter, hate-filled man." "Yes." I said. "He wanted the Chief's job, and while he pretended to be happy about Deputy Chief, I know that he was pissed he didn't get the top job... over me." "Exactly." replied Griswold. "I know you can handle it, Crowbar, but that man is going to try to make your life as much a living hell as he possibly can." "Don't I know it." I said. "And before you tell me, Chief, I know that he and Katherine Woodburn are in league, and she's going to try to get him to make me do something... regrettable." "What about Ross?" the Chief asked. "You are the same rank as Brownlee, and actually that little cut above. But she's not. And he may well try to make her health an issue, not to mention try to lord it over her... to piss you off as much as to piss her off." "Worry not, Chief." I said. "I've got it covered. First, I don't care if I lose my career or even go to jail; if that guy tries to mess with Cindy, I will take his sorry ass down. Partly so she won't do it and get fired, but partly because I am not going to let anyone fuck with my Crowbar Two." The Chief smiled merrily under his mustaches at that, and I continued: "Second, Miss Ross and my mother think I don't know it, but they've been doing research behind my back on the 'real Moriarty'. Methinks Cindy could get a job with Federal agencies if she beats the shit out of Brownlee and has to leave the Force. And third... well, Chief, I'll keep that one to myself, but sometime in the future our friend Cindy Ross is going to learn some things that will blow all our minds." "Except yours." Chief Griswold replied. He paused, then said "And mine." My eyes and the Chief's locked, and I realized that he knew what I knew... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * On the morning of February 2nd, the entire Uniformed Division of the Town & County Police Force assembled in the main auditorium at Police Headquarters. They would be getting their Precinct assignments soon, but first they had something very important to do: say goodbye to their 'fellow uniformed officer', Captain (Ret.) Leslie Charles. "You are far and away the most professional group of people to wear police blue that I have ever known, any place, at any time. It has been my honor and privilege to serve with you as well as those that came before you. And I know that you will continue to work as the professionals you are, and never stain the name of the Town & County Police Force." said Captain Charles. Thunderous applause echoed through the chamber. I was listening from the back with Chief Emeritus Griswold and Sheriff Allgood. All other persons, including Detectives, civilian personnel, support staff, had been forbidden to be in the room: this was a Uniformed Officers thing. "So do your best for your Commander, your new Chief when you get one, and your Sheriff, but most of all, do your very best for the Citizens of this County." said Charles, wrapping it up. Once that was done and the long minute of applause finally died down, Sergeant Rudistan called for all Uniformed Personnel to rise and get into place. They were going to form a gauntlet for Captain Charles to walk through, similar to what we did for Chief Griswold. But it would only be uniformed officers, and it would lead to the back parking lot for the retirement ceremony and promotions. Every uniformed officer being promoted or upgraded wanted Captain Charles to pin on their insignia. I scrambled to get to the promotion area ahead of the gauntlet forming so that I could watch it. My Detectives and Captain Harlow's administrative personnel had done likewise. It was impressive. The line was mostly outside, so as Captain Charles walked by, his officers saluted him. He basically kept his hand up to his forehead in a constant return salute as he walked through, remaining stoic. After pinning the insignia and medals on the Officers, Captain Charles's last act was to pin Lieutenant bars on his replacement - Wes 'Coldiron' Masters, formerly Detective Sergeant of the Midtown Police Force. It was Charles who had personally recruited Masters, with my help. I saw Molly, Detective Soltis and Captain 'Cav' Moynahan among the guests in the bleachers; they'd come to see their team member and friend receive this well-deserved promotion. Joanne Cummings was awarded her full Detective badge and rank, administered by Lieutenant Cindy Ross and Lieutenant Tanya Perlman, and she got warm applause from the assembled officers. And then it changed. Almost as if on cue, a cloud covered the sun, darkening the day as Robert Brownlee came forward. I'd refused to participate in his promotion proceedings, so Sheriff Allgood had to do it. He was assisted by Councilwoman Kelly Carnes and an officer that was the representative of the Police Union. Brownlee grinned as the silver oak leaf clusters, the same as my rank, were pinned on his shoulders, but it was dead silent among the ranks of officers. And as it was done and Brownlee was 'introduced' as Deputy Chief, the only smattering of applause came from some guests in the stands... not a single Officer applauded, they remained stock-still in the position of attention. Brownlee's grin turned to a frown, then a look of determination came across his face... I knew he was swearing vengeance for it. I saw his eyes shift over to me, and I did not waver as I silently stared back. This was not an agency of the weak-minded. Game on, Brownlee, I thought to myself. Game on. The Precinct Captains came forward to call out the names of the officers that would be assigned to their precincts. First was Precinct Captain Damien Thompson, followed by PCpt. Briggs, then PCpt. Weston. Names not called were still assigned to Headquarters, including Rudistan, Morton, Hicks and Johnson; I refused to let anyone else have them. The Eightfold Fence Ch. 04 I was going to need them. I was going to need my Detectives. I was going to need "Crowbar's Angels". I was going to need the Support Staff. I was even going to need Brownlee, and hoped he'd do his job properly. It was only going to get harder from here. Wargrave was out there, the 'real Moriarty' was out there, 'Superior Bloodlines' was out there. And there was a Town and County full of good Citizens to protect and serve. It was only going to get harder from here. I steeled myself, gripping my red crowbar more tightly, resolved and ready drive on with the mission... Finis... for now.