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The Detective

By: OLDER AND BETTER



Sam was sitting at his desk, his feet propped up on the rough looking piece of furniture.

He glanced out the window, his mind wandering.

He saw her get out of the large black car and walk briskly across the street.

Two young boys were skateboarding.  They were watching her and ran into each other.

She was a tall, willowy blond.  Her breasts were large and rose and fell as she hurried toward the sidewalk.  He short skirt and high heels emphasized her abundant ass globes that protruded magnificently.

Sam stood up and leaned out the window as she disappeared on the sidewalk below.

"Damn," he growled, when she disappeared from view.  He nearly fell out of the window trying to get another glimpse.

He sat down and propped his feet up again.  He closed his eyes and was nearly asleep when he heard the soft tapping on the door of the outer office.

"Yea," he growled at the intrusion.  "Come on in."

He nearly fell trying to get up.  He caught the edge of the desk just in time.   "Can I help you?" he asked of the stunning woman standing in the door.

"Sam Blacker?" she asked in a very husky, sensual voice.

"Blocker!  Like in football!  Blocker," he said as he raped her with his eyes.  "What can I do for you?"

"Blacker, blocker!  Who really gives a shit!" she shot at him, causing him to recoil somewhat.

Sam stared at her, his mouth forming a small wry smile.
  "Sam Blocker," he said, thrusting a sweating hand at her.

She looked at it for a few seconds.  With a bit of distain in her voice she blurted,  "I need a body guard."

Sam eyed her again.  "I am a detective, private eye, gumshoe, dick, not a bodyguard." He informed her callously.

She stepped back as though she had been slapped.  "Sorry," she said as she turned to go.

Sam realized he needed some work but didn't want to lower himself to being a bodyguard, although he had to admit, it was quite a body.  "Wait!" he called after her.

She stopped short.  She turned toward him.

Sam noted the tear in her eye.  "OK! OK!" he said, his voice softening somewhat.  "What seems to be the trouble?"

"Someone is trying to kill me!" she said, wiping her eyes daintily with a handkerchief.

"Now you are getting in my line of business," Sam said harshly.  "Sit down and tell me about it," he said, pushing a well worn chair from the wall.

Sam gasped slightly when she lowered her gorgeous body into the chair.  The short dress rode up and Sam received a brief view of her blue bikini panties.  He fought the urge to make a remark.  "Damn," he thought.  "What a luscious sight."

She crossed her legs at the knees, giving him another quick glance at her panties.

He coughed slightly, trying to recover from the view. 

"I can pay you," she said, smiling at him knowingly.

Sam cleared his throat of the frog that had landed on his vocal cords.  "OK." He croaked.  "Give me the lowdown on what is going on."

She shifted in the chair, the blue flash appearing again.  
"I was shot at as I left work last night." She said huskily, the tears forming again.

"At work?" Sam asked.

She dabbed at her eyes again.  "Yes!  I work at The Ecstasy Dance Hall," she said, her full mouth forming a smile.  "I am known as Sexy Sal there.

Sam's gasp caught in his throat.  "That is quite appropriate," he said without thinking.

She smiled at his expression.  "My real name is Ginger Rogers.  Not the actress though," she added with a grin.

Sam nodded.  "OK, Ginger.  Who do you think shot at you and why didn't you go to the police?"

She looked down at her feet.  "Because he is a cop," she said, almost too soft for Sam to hear. 

"A cop took a shot at you?" he asked incredulously.

She squirmed in the chair, he short skirt now high enough that Sam could see a thin line of blue that disappeared between her legs.

"Yes!" she said softly.  "He has been stalking me since I broke up with him a week ago."

"He is or was your boyfriend?" Sam inquired.

"Not really.  I let him take me home a couple of times and since then he has told everyone that I was his property and no one had better mess with me.  At first I thought it was nice, but now, he has driven away my customers.  He has even went so far as to stop them from tipping me."

"Tipping?" Sam made a gesture of putting bills in his belt.

She smiled.  "Exactly!"

She hesitated for a few moments.
"Last night, he demanded to take me home and said that if he couldn't have me no one could.  I had the bouncer throw him out.  He was really mad.  Then, when I left the club, someone shot at me."

Sam leaned back in his chair.  After a brief pause, he asked, "Did you see him?"

She shook her head no.  "I am sure it was him though," she said.

Sam nodded his agreement.  He glance out the window and noticed a black and white sitting down the block.

Ginger squirmed in the chair again.  This time she allowed him a total view of her blue panties.  She was indeed a true blonde.

"I don't have a lot of money but I would make it worth your while." She said softly.

Sam smiled at the voluptuous woman.  "This one is on me," he said.  "I have always wanted to bust a dishonest cop."

She smiled at him and moved in the chair.  She spread her legs apart again.  "I would be glad to," She hesitated again.  "Make it worth while!"

Sam grinned.  "That might be OK," he croaked.

She stood.  "Would you like a down payment?" she asked softly as she loosened the buttons on her blouse.

Before Sam could answer, she had the blouse off and was unfastening her bra.

Sam gasped when her tits came into view.  They were large with absolutely no sag.  The nipples were cylinders that projected from the dark aureoles magnificently.
Her hands found the zipper at the side of her skirt.  She suddenly was naked except for the blue bikini.  
"If you get this cop off my ass, you can get on," she said lustily.

Her naked body was perfection in perfection.  It was easy to see why any man would want her.

Sam found his hands groping her lovely tits and running up and down her hour glass figure.  His cock was so hard he thought it would split.

She smiled as she pushed him away.  "I always pay my debts,"

She gazed at his crotch.  "This is one debt that I will be glad to pay."

Sam gasped loudly.  

"After you finish the job," she said rubbing his steel cock through his trousers.

He nearly came when she rubbed his cock.  His groan filled the shabby room.

She dressed nearly as fast as she had undressed.

Sam was transfixed and watched her dress.  It was nearly as suggestive as when she undressed.

She grinned at his demeanor.

His mouth was open and his eyes glazed.  "I always get a retainer," he said gruffly.

She rubbed his rock hard cock brazenly.  "That will have to do for now," she said softly.  "I will pay you in full when you get Harry off my ass."

Sam's balls ached.  His cock was harder than he could ever recall.  He growled deep inside his throat.  He managed to croak, "OK!"

Ginger lowered herself into the worn chair. 

Sam sat cautiously onto the corner of the desk.  "Name?"

She frowned.  Ginger Rogers," she said.  "I already told you that."

"No!" Sam growled.  "The name of the cop."

"Oh!" she exclaimed, making her tits bounce under the blouse.  "Joe McBride."

Sam's frown deepened.  Slowly he began to smile.

"I have had dealings with him before," he said after a pause.  "I would love to put the bastard behind bars.  He tried to have my license revoked."

"I just want him off my ass," Ginger replied.  "Any way you can," she added.

Sam looked troubled.  "He is a bad ass and has the support of his captain, George Williams.  You will have to be careful and not allow him to know that I am working on his abuse of you!"

Ginger nodded affirmatively.

"Would you agree to wear a hidden microphone?" Sam asked.

"Where would I hide it?" she asked looking down at her nearly naked body.

Sam grinned at the problem.  "I have a ring that you can wear that will pick up voices six feet away.  All you have to do is make sure it is that close."

"OH!" she blurted.  "I can manage that."

Sam dug in his desk drawer.  He slipped the ring on her finger and moved a tiny lever on the side.  Their voices rang through the room from a recorder sitting on the desk.
Her smile caused Sam to flinch slightly.  "She sure is beautiful," he thought.

"Just keep this turned on and I can also track you wherever you go," Sam continued.  "I will be only a few yards away."

She smiled again.  "That sounds good," she said huskily.  "I feel much better now."

"Just go about you regular routine and let me do all the work," he said.

Ginger kissed him passionately.  "I can't wait to repay you," she said.

He smiled.  "I guess that is my retainer fee," he replied.  "Now, get out of here before I collect in advance."

She smiled warmly.  "I might find that exciting," she said as she turned toward the door, her luscious ass globes rolled delightfully as she walked toward the door.
She intentionally exaggerated the swing of her ass and he could hear her giggling through the recorder on the desk.

Sam watched as she pulled the limousine from the curb and hurled down the street past the black and white police car.

The black and white pulled in behind her.

He ground his beat up Chevy into life and followed the caravan down the busy street.

When the lights of the black and white came on, he flipped on his remote radio.  

"Miss!  You just ran a red light.  You will have to come with me."  A voice boomed over the radio.

Sam listened as the cop told her to pull into a parking lot down the street.

He closed the distance and was right behind the black and white when they pulled into the lot.

"Where are you taking me?" he heard her ask.

"Just be still and don't do anything rash!" the cops voice boomed over the radio.

Sam followed the cop car toward the warehouse area of town.

He heard the distinct sound of an overhead door being lifted and Ginger's loud gasp.

"Hello honey!"

Sam recognized the voice of his nemesis, Joe McBride.

"What do you want from me?" Ginger's trembling voice rumbled from the radio.

"I have decided that it is time for a little get together," the voice echoed in Sam's car.

Sam grabbed the radio and ran toward the abandoned warehouse.

He searched for an entrance to the building as the radio voices continued.

"Take off your clothes."

"Please don't hurt me!"

Silence.

"Hey George.  Don't she look good naked?"

"Please!"

"Shut up and enjoy this."

"Oh no!"

"Lay down and spread your legs apart!"

"No! Please don't!"

Sam tried desperately to find a window or door.

"Please stop!"

"Hey George, do you want some of this?"

"Oh my god!  Oh my gooooooood!

A long Silence.

"You really like George's monster cock don't you?"

"Oh yes!  Please don't stop!"

"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!  Here I cum!"

Silence.

"Suck me off!"

"Glub! Glub! Ummm! Yes!"

Sam found a ladder to the roof and scamper up.  He found a skylight and peered in.

Ginger was lying on a mattress in the center of the floor, her naked body covered with cum.  Two men were standing beside her, jacking their cocks and spurting cum onto her.

Sam broke a window and shouted down at them.  "Freeze, you mother fuckers!"

The two men ran toward the black and white police car, their cocks slapping back and forth as they ran.

Before Sam could climb down, the door opened and the black and white shot out into the street.

Sam hurried into the warehouse.  

Ginger was standing naked beside the mattress.

Her eyes were glassy and she staggered toward him.
"I'm sorry I couldn't get in before this," Sam said softly.

She smiled.  "Sorry my ass," she said.  "That George is hung like a fucking horse."


Sam was well paid for his time right there on the mattress. 

Ginger went back to work at the club, waiting for George and Joe to come in.

George and Joe found a tape on their desk and never again darkened the door of the club.

Thus ended the story of Sam and Ginger.

The Detective



This is a little tale that came to me one day when I least expected it. I was watching a detective show and I wondered what it would be like to put my words into that context. This isn't a true Consequences story but it could well be. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you don't, just ignore it. 

Edited by Lady Cibelle with her thoughts included.

Prologue

We were sitting at our desks and discussing an open case when the phone rang. Ed and I exchanged glances. He nodded and took the call. It was our informant, calling to let us know that Mario Luciano was in town. Mario was the man we had been searching for, for almost a year. We had him dead to rights in the murder of a local businessman and had a be-on-the-look-out-for (BOLO) on him throughout the US. This was the first time we had even an inkling of his whereabouts. Ed, my partner, and I talked it over and decided to set up a sting using the informer. If he could pull this off, his rap for holding a kilo would go away. Ed called him back, told him the deal. He was up for it and made the contact.

Luciano was staying at the downtown Marriott and he was looking to establish some local contacts. The informer let it out that he had a source, a big one, that was looking to expand into our area. Mario bought into it as we hoped and we had him hooked! Now that the hook was set, all we had to do was reel him in. Easy and neat! We made an appointment with the management of the Marriott and told them what we intended. We assured them there would be no shooting and no danger to their guests. We reinforced that we could not let anyone know what we were doing in order not to alert our target. Management agreed and we made our plans.

We went back to the Marriott the following day and set up for our plan to take him down. We made a call using the informant, asking Luciano to come down to meet some people that could make him a lot of money. The informant insisted they would only meet in a public place and not in his room. Since he was into drugs, our informant used the story of a major supplier who was looking for a local distributor. Mario took the bait as we hoped, saying he would be down directly. 

We were going to apprehend him, peacefully we hoped, by taking him the minute he walked off the elevator. We had information saying that he would probably not be armed and we used that fact in our plan. We had blocked off the doors and stairways to keep traffic to a minimum, even though we expected no trouble; we wanted to be safe. The two of us moved into position, just to the right of the bank of elevators that went up to the twentieth floor. We made sure the uniforms were in place and out of sight. They were stationed to the left of our position. There were three of them, ready to arrest the man we had come for. 

The informant was gone and we were waiting on our quarry. He would be coming down any minute. Ed and I motioned to the uniforms to make sure they were ready. Now all we had to do was wait. We settled into position, our guns holstered with the snaps open, ready to draw if need be. We saw the arrow on the No. 2 elevator change to the down direction. It should only be a few more minutes. I signaled the uniforms and pointed to the arrow. They nodded in understanding. 

None of us thought to look toward the restaurant, thinking that it was closed for the afternoon. We were experienced cops and shouldn't have assumed anything. But we did.

From that direction, a man and a woman walked toward the elevators, his arm wrapped around his companion. Her head was tilted up to his and he was smiling down. Two lovers, ready to go up to their room to make love. Ed nudged me to call my attention to them just as the doors to elevator No.1 opened and they moved inside. 

Without thinking, I had stepped into the area in plain sight of the elevators when I recognized the woman. I was standing directly in front of the doors when they started to close. As they moved silently together, she looked out to see me standing there and her eyes grew wide and her mouth opened in an attempt to scream. She began to reach for the doors to stop their path but too late. The doors closed and the elevator started up.

Ed swore, angry that I had blown our scenario, grabbed me, pushed me behind him and motioned to the uniforms to be ready to rush the second elevator when the doors opened. I was too stunned to say or do anything and I was still standing there when Ed shouted to move and all hell broke loose. He and the uniforms arrested the man and took him into custody. I moved to a chair in the lobby while this occurred and I was still sitting there when Ed came over to me.

"Come on partner. I know it's hard but you have to pull yourself together and do this thing. Come on; I'll drive. We have to book him and get him into holding now while we have him." 

"Did you see. . . .?" I couldn't say it out loud. I couldn't ask him the question.

"Yeah buddy, I saw. Let's get you out of here right now. You don't want to be here when she comes down, you hear me? Let's go!"

I rose, followed him out to the car and sat there quietly as he drove us back to the station. I had just witnessed something I never could have expected and it had flattened me. I was sick to my stomach, my head was pounding and my throat was thick with emotion. My world had just come crashing down on me without warning.

On The Job

I showed my badge to the uniform standing just inside the doorway and waited until he moved aside to let me in. This was a late call, coming in just before I was to head home for the night. I had stayed behind to finish up some paperwork and it was just my luck that I was the one that picked up the phone, making me the primary on this case. 

But what the hell, I thought to myself. Since I was now living alone in a crappy little room in a run down part of town, maybe it was for the best. Let those guys who had a faithful wife and family take the night off. I wasn't in that category so I guess I was the best guy for the job. I did call my partner Ed Prentiss to tell him about the call but to stay home with his own wife and kids. I said I could cover till tomorrow. 

I went inside the small three room apartment, noticing that it was twice as big as my place, and followed the trail of uniforms to the last room on the right. It was the bedroom of the poor dead sap who lay half on the floor and half on the bed. I went inside, the room kept empty until I was on site. I moved to the body and stood, my eyes taking in the blood, the body's position, the surroundings, the bed covers, everything that had anything to do with this man. This was what I did and I did it well, but even without any training, I could say right off that with the amount of blood on the floor, the guy had apparently bled out. 

"Hey, Cross, when can I have the body? It's been almost an hour that I've been here. What took you so long? And where's your shadow? He takin' a vacation?"

That was Harry Feeney the assistant coroner. He usually worked the same shift I did and it seems he got caught just as I had. He would have been in, done his thing, being careful not to disturb the scene, and then waited for me

"Sorry Harry. It's just me tonight. I was working over and just on my way out the damned door when the phone rang. Just my luck no one else was around to pick up. I'll just be a few minutes, just to get a feel for what went down. Time of death? I guess you're going to tell me cause is that he bled out?"

"Yeah, Pete. Near as I can tell, he's been dead for about three hours, give or take. And you're right: shot twice, once in the chest and once in the gut, but COD is exsanguination from the gut shot. That should be obvious but I'll reserve final cause till after I cut him. Here's his wallet. Name is Sean Trent and this is his place. Twenty eight and single. No cash found and he's missing his watch and a few rings. Visible marks on the wrist and fingers show they were there. Take your time. I've got nowhere else to be. Just yell when you're done."

I walked around the body, looking for anything that was out of place, not as it should be. Anything that was not part of the usual or the ordinary. I was about to give up when I noticed a small tag of some sort sticking out of his shirt pocket. It was almost hidden in the blood that covered his upper torso. Blood from the bullet in the chest. I took a pair of gloves from my pocket, a small pair of tweezers with a strong grip, and an evidence bag. I pulled the tag from his pocket, examined it before putting it in the bag and sealing it. That would go along with Harry and ultimately end up in Trace Evidence. 

After another five minutes, I was done. I walked out the door and told Harry the body was his. I handed him the bag and told him to add it to whatever he found when he got the body back to the basement where he did the autopsies. I went up to Clancy, the uniform who seemed to be in charge and told him to start the canvas of the apartments on this floor and the ones directly above and below. He said it had already started and the report would be on my desk in the morning. He had already called the crime scene boys and they were just arriving as I was leaving. I told them it was me who was in charge and left, knowing they would file all evidence collected and forward the list to me. 

I went back to the office and filled out a few forms; victim's name, time of death, cause of death, location, me as primary, Harry as receiver of the body, and more that made this an official case for Homicide. That was where I worked and what I did. My name is Peter Cross and I'm a gold shield. A detective first grade working Homicide for the city of Plattsburgh, NY. I put the ID up on the blackboard on the wall close to the entrance of our 'office'. That would clue everyone else that I was primary and this was my case. 

Homicide had the top floor of a three story building that used to be a warehouse. Wood floors, a high ceiling with exposed struts, aluminum wrapped ducts that carried heat in the winter and tepid air in the summer. The windows all opened so we didn't suffocate in the heat but it was far from comfortable. Made the guys and gals eager to be out and about, rather than sitting behind a desk here. Downstairs was for the uniforms and the second floor was special units and some of the brass. I avoided that floor.

I spent an hour on the computer searching his name and anything else I could find. My police access gave me information about his financials and his priors but there wasn't much to be gleaned. No wants or warrants, no outstanding charges and a short sheet of prior arrests. A small time petty thief as I suspected. I made a crime board, got the few pictures one of the uniforms took and put them up. This would be a low priority since he was obviously a street hustler. No job listed under his name, no credit cards and no known back accounts. Apartment rented by the week, no prior address listed; cell phone was a cheap prepaid. Closets yielded little of value and no sign of burglary other than the wallet and watch. I would see what the canvas yielded and if the crime scene boys picked up anything but I expected this one to go into the open files. I finished up what I could, turned off my light and my computer station and started for home.

Usually I walked up and down the twenty six steps leading to and from the ground floor, but tonight, I took the freight elevator that still worked most of the time. It dropped me to the ground floor where the uniforms had their home in only a minute and a half; half as long as it would take to walk down. I was so tired that I just wanted to get back to my apartment and take a shower. Hot or cold made no difference. I got into the police issued sedan I called my own and drove the short distance to the rented apartment I was using.

I went up the short flight of steps and into my apartment. I checked the mail on the way and found only a few flyers of no interest and one official document that I knew was from my lawyer. I was tempted to throw them all into the trash can but stopped myself. I took the official letter and placed it carefully on the counter and tossed the rest. I went in and took my shower, letting the warm water run over my aching shoulders and neck. I stayed in as long as possible, not getting out until the water started to run cool. I dried with a huge fluffy towel I brought from home and went into the single room that served as living room/dining room/ kitchen. I dropped down on the couch and just tried to stop thinking.

After a few minutes of relative silence, I sighed once in resignation and got up to grab the official looking letter. I stared at it, not caring much what was inside but finally got up the energy to open it. I ripped the end off, letting it drop to the floor and took out the pages tucked inside. I read the first page, telling me it was a counter claim from my wife. I leafed through the attached pages, noting the causes her lawyer listed and just sniggered. It was all bullshit, but so what. I expected nothing less from her.

I tossed the pages on the coffee table and stared into space, thinking of what she had included. What the hell was she talking about? She was accusing me of abandonment. What the fuck was that about? And emotional cruelty? Come on! What the hell was she thinking? She was the one that started this whole thing. She was the one cheating on me and our marriage with that asshole Jeffry Trousdale. He was the one that seduced her into betraying me. What did she expect me to do after that? Abandonment? Bullshit! I left her cheating ass! Emotional cruelty? I hated her guts after what she did, and I told her that. Was that emotional cruelty? Hell no! That was the fucking truth!!!

I sat there fuming for another five minutes, the heat from my anger doing a good job of drying the remaining water from my wet hair. I told myself I wanted nothing more than to be done with her but the more I thought of it, the angrier I got. I reached for the phone and punched in her number at home. Probably out with her lover I thought as it began to ring. Where were the kids when she did that shit? She was a bitch, cheating on me the way she did, but I was sure she wouldn't do anything in front of our kids. But hell, I never thought she would cheat on me either so maybe I was wrong. I was about to hang up when she answered. She seemed out of breath.

"Hello?" Soft voice but sort of breathless like she had been running or doing something that took energy. I bet I could guess what that was. I could guess a lot of things with my mind taking me places I didn't want to go. I had visions that made me sick. Visions of her and that son of a bitch!

"Hello Carol. I just got your counter claim from your shyster lawyer. I'm surprised you didn't have your lover prepare these. Sounds like something he would have done. I was going to talk to you about it but it sounds like I interrupted a fuck session with your lover. You must have been going at it since you seem to be out of breath. I hope to hell the kids aren't there while you're screwing another man."

I was about to hang up when she answered. "Stop, Peter! Just stop it right now! I was in the garage trying to find the circuit breaker that controls the washer and dryer. They aren't working and I have washing to do. The kids are with my mother and I wasn't with my lover. I have no lover! You know that!"

"No Carol, I don't know that. I know you've been shacking up with him at the Marriott. I saw the two of you together there and I watched the two of you heading up to your room together. What I saw was two lovers making out in the lobby while waiting for the elevator. Just because you saw me there and came running home doesn't change the facts."

"Pete, no! You never gave me a chance to explain. It wasn't what you thought. Yes, I was with him and yes I was going up to his room and I know it looked bad, but nothing happened! Nothing!" 

"Only because I was there, but what if I wasn't? What would you have done? Nothing? I don't believe that. You were ready! I could see that! I've been married to you for thirteen years Carol and I know what you look like when you're ready to make love. Only it wouldn't have been to make love would it? It would have been just plain fucking!" 

"No! No! You don't believe that! You can't believe I would have done anything. Yes, I was tempted and I thought about it, but you can't believe I would have done that to you. I love you Pete and I love our family and that would have stopped me. You have to believe that. I wouldn't have done anything with him. Nothing!"

"Sorry Carol. I don't have the same faith in you that you seem to have all of a sudden. This wasn't the first time you were with that slime ball. You've obviously been seeing him for some time the way the two of you were getting along. He was used to taking liberties with you; that was obvious. 

"Anyway, I just called to tell you I'm going to fight this counter claim and see to it that it gets shoved back down your shyster's throat."

"Pete, please! Please come home so we can work this out. I made some mistakes, but not like you think. I've never been unfaithful to you. Never! You have to let me talk to you and explain what you saw. Please, Pete. Come home! Think of the children!!" 

"Sorry, Carol. You were the one that didn't think of me or our children! You started this and we're going to finish it. I refuse to be your wimp husband and I'll be damned if I will share you with another man! But wait! Has it been other men, plural? And are the kids even mine? I have a lot of questions now Carol; questions I never thought I would have to ask!

"I trusted you completely but now I can't even trust you to tell me the truth. And to make it worse, I wasn't alone when I saw you. My partner and a bunch of uniforms also saw you and shithead in that fucking elevator, arms around each other. Guess how many people now know about the two of you? Goodbye, Carol." 

I slammed down the phone, my anger causing me to hyperventilate. I put my head down between my knees and tried to get myself under control. God! As a cop, I knew better than to lose my temper that way. But that was on the job. This was personal and this hurt! Bad! My breathing slowed down and the lightheadedness passed, leaving me exhausted and sick to my stomach. It's a good thing I hadn't eaten any dinner. Matter of fact, I couldn't remember the last time I did eat. But no matter, I wasn't hungry. I hadn't been able to keep much down since it happened anyway.

The following day, I pulled Ed Prentiss aside. Ed was my partner, but he was also my best friend. He and I went through the academy together and had been uniforms together and both of us made it our goal to become detectives. I made it first, and after he made detective, he became my partner. The two of us had a good conviction ratio and we had a couple of high profile busts to our credit and we were considered tops in our division. I wanted to talk to him privately.

"Listen Ed. You know what I'm going through right now with Carol. I need information and I need it yesterday. I want the uniforms to put some pressure on shithead and I want him to crawl on his knees to me. I want him to want something from me and I want him to know it's me who's pressuring him. Not in any way he could prove it of course. He knows what I need to know. Can you do it without it getting on me?"

"Say no more partner. It's done. Give me a couple of days and he won't know which way is up. He won't be able to take a shit without breaking some law or other. And the force is with you on this one. He's not liked much by the guys anyway. He's a fucking shyster and everyone knows it!"

He was referring to the guy who was her lover and her boss; Jeffrey L. Trousdale. He was one of the lawyers in her office and the one I caught her with. He was, at best, an ambulance chaser and a slimeball of a man. He was universally hated by the guys enforcement for defending the worst of the worst. None of us minded a good defense lawyer who followed the rules, but Trousdale wasn't one of them. Now, when he crossed me, he had shit in the backyard of his enemy. And his enemy had a lot of ways to hurt him. He was about to find that out.




The Detective



"Listen Pete. I know it's not my business but Helen has been talking to Carol and I know for a fact that she's a wreck and is sorry as hell for what she did. Helen thinks she just made a big mistake and regrets it." 

"You're right Ed: it's not your business. I have no problem with Helen and Carol talking but that doesn't mean shit to me. Carol's shown me she can lie with the best of them so I can't believe anything she says to me or to Helen. And you should be careful what you hear as well."

Ed had the grace to blush, accepting the criticism, remembering that my pain was still fresh. Wisely, he said nothing more.

I went back to my case and reviewed the reports from the crime scene guys. There was nothing there, but from the uniform canvas, it seems that several persons had seen a man by the name of Willie Jude running away from the apartment right after hearing a loud sound. Seems our Willie had fucked up big time. The tag I took from Sean's pocket at the crime scene had a partial address for a building in the warehouse section of town that could be a clue of some sort. Since it was the only thing we had, Ed and I got an arrest warrant and went looking for our boy. It took us most of the afternoon but we got a tip that he was holed up in a vacant building in the lower part of that same section where the address was. We called for S.W.A.T and went to take him.

After a brief and useless standoff, Willie surrendered, crying his eyes out. We took him back to the station and put him in interview. We tossed a coin and Ed won. He took the interview and had little trouble breaking Willie. Seems he and Sean had a falling out over a scam they were running. Sean had skimmed a few hundred from Willie and Willie found out. When he confronted Sean, Sean wouldn't fork his share over so Willie pulled his piece. They scuffled and the gun went off. Sean was bleeding but still alive and screaming something awful, so Willie got scared and shot him again to shut him up. After taking all the money Sean had in his wallet and helping himself to the fake Rolex and the fake rings, Willie took off and holed up where we found him. 

Since Ed took the statement, I took Willie down to booking and processed him in. They took fingerprints, logged his belongings in and took those attractive mug shots. After he was safely locked in holding until morning, I went back up to my desk to finish the paperwork. For a case I thought was going to go into the crapper as unsolved, we had broken it in less than twenty four hours. Not bad! Should look good on our sheet. These nickel and dime murders always had a special feeling when we solved one. 

We were able to put Willie in a lineup the next morning and the three eyewitnesses identified him as the man they saw running from Sean's apartment. We had him cold! As I was closing the paperwork file and clearing the crime board, Ed walked out of the freight elevator. Ed had a problem with his weight but he didn't do any more work than he had to. Where I walked, he rode. Where I jogged, he walked. When I got coffee, he had a doughnut. And so on. If the perp took off and ran for his life, Ed was the one that went back to the car and drove around the block to head him off. I was the one that chased him until I was out of breath. 

He walked over and sat down in the interview chair next to my desk, crossing his legs and putting both hands behind his head.

"Just wanted to let you know that Mr. Trousdale had himself a very bad day. Seems he had a broken taillight lens and his license plate sticker was illegible. He was ticketed for both. And wouldn't you know, he crossed the street against the light and one of the uniforms saw him. She issued him a jaywalking summons. That's an automatic $50."

I smiled at him and gave him a high five. He grinned back and said, "I give him two days at this rate. He'll be in here looking for you by Friday. What are you gonna say to him?"

"I have no idea yet. What I want is information. I want him to tell me all there is to know about the two of them. I'll get the truth out of him one way or the other. You might have to look the other way when I do."

"You know how bad my eyesight is. I need to see a doctor sometime. Can't see a thing at times." He got up and walked away mumbling to himself about time to make an appointment. I grinned as he disappeared, one hand up waving goodbye over his shoulder. 

So all I had to do was talk to Carol and get her side of the story. I had an idea that she was going to lie her head off to me. Call it cop's instinct but I felt she hadn't been honest with me. She was scared and she was trying to hide behind a lie. I had seen it all too often. Now it was time to pretend I was a lawyer and get her on record lying to me.

I left work and remembered that Ed wanted to stop and have a couple of beers so I went over to the bar where we spent our free time and spent the next two hours with my cop friends. I bought the uniforms there a round and my stock with them went up a notch. There was some talk about a shyster lawyer that got himself in some kind of trouble and the street cops had best keep an eye out. I feared that Jeffrey was in for a bad day tomorrow.

I called Carol that evening and made a date to come home on Thursday evening for a talk. She was beside herself, begging me to not wait but to come right away. She brought up the kids again and said they were missing me. I asked her if she told them why I wasn't home and she went hysterical. She begged me not to tell them what she had done. I asked her why I couldn't tell them that I just over reacted to an innocent scene. 

She begged and pleaded and it became just too much for me to listen to. I was too tired to continue with this fencing so I just told her to expect me and hung up. She had no idea where I was and I was using the blocking feature on the house phone to make sure she didn't have my number. I wouldn't answer my cell so she gave up on that one.

The following day at the office, Ed sat down and told me the bad news about our murder case. "Dirtbag's pro bono attorney is challenging the confession. Says he talked under duress. Says we intimidated the guy with all that firepower. He claims we threatened to shoot him if he didn't give it up for us. Probably gonna get away with it if the confession's out. We need more."

"Well, hell! What do we have besides the eye witness description? We have anything from the apartment? Prints? DNA?"

"Nah, we got nothing from the apartment, but we got his words telling us where he ditched the gun and we have the slug from the vic. We need to find that gun."

"We need to do it with a routine canvas. We can't use his words as a place to start. Just order the uniforms to begin a routine search of the surrounding area to look for any discards that might connect with the case. Don't mention the gun! You and I will join them."

Willie told us during the confession that he pitched it in a dumpster on the way down to where he parked his car. I knew the area and Ed and I got the uniforms to assist us and began a search. He and I took the dumpsters nearest the scene and took turns diving. One of my favorite sports: dumpster diving! 

It was late morning when one of the uni's called to tell us they found a piece. It matched the gun that was used and we had them send it directly to forensics. Made sure the chain of evidence was intact as well. Then, with a warrant firmly in hand, we searched the perp's apartment and found a box of ammo matching the piece, and a notebook detailing the scams they worked together. We took it all back, logged it in and made detailed notes in our books. All we had to do was wait for fingerprints and the ballistics report. Both came in during the afternoon and the prints were from our perp and the slugs matched the one from the vic. We had our case!

Ed and I met with the LT. and he called the DA. We presented the evidence we had, the gun, the prints and the ballistics report, the notebook and all the other stuff, including the eyewitness reports and the lineup results. We had him dead to rights and the DA agreed. Willie was going down for murder one at the least.

In the meantime, my 'support staff' had been making Mr. Trousdale's life miserable again. Seems his registration got lost in the system and the car he was driving had missing plates. Could have been stolen, he was told. When he checked for himself, he was furious that the plates were actually gone. He claimed they were there just the day before but the uniform just shrugged his shoulders and issued a summons for driving without proper registration, suspicion of possession of a stolen car, and resisting arrest. They also confiscated his car and had it towed to the impound yard. Mr. Trousdale was furious but everything in the citation was verified by pictures. No plates, no proof of ownership, and he was on camera with his fist raised, apparently threatening the officer. 

That was Thursday and I felt the pressure was getting to him: he was about to explode! I let Ed know that a word to me might get the harassment to stop but that it would be my word against his if he tried to accuse me of having the cops harass him. And if he made that complaint, God only knew how much worse it could get. Ed grinned and said that had already been passed along.

I was off duty now and ready to meet with Carol. I stopped with Ed to have a beer and tell him what I was going to do. He wished me luck and sent me on my way to hear the cock and bull story I expected to get from Carol. I had little doubt she was going to try to snow me with some story about this being a one time thing and that it was just a mistake in judgment on her part. Or that her boss had put the moves on her and she succumbed to his charms. Any kind of bullshit to make me believe she was not guilty of cheating on me.

Just a little about Carol. I met her thirteen years ago at a Christmas party thrown by the District Attorney's office for all the detectives and those of us who worked for the DA's office rather than on the streets. We were the ones that worked closely with the prosecutor's office and most of us were on first name terms with all the attorneys that worked for the city. It was a nice party and I was enjoying myself when I saw her. The redhead with the long legs and the fairly noticeable rack. She grabbed my attention and I couldn't look away. I was single at the time, no girlfriend and no commitments. I hadn't dated much but this girl might change my mind.

She was with another girl, a blond, and they were standing in front of four or five guys who were obviously hitting on them. I knew most of them and that they were all either married or tight with a girlfriend. I watched, making book on who would get lucky when the redhead said something and the guys just sort of melted away. The two laughed at whatever it was. I was still watching her when she looked my way and our eyes met.

That was the start of a short but intense courtship. Carol was a secretary in the DA's office and she worked for the pool. That meant she worked for whoever needed her to pick up the slack on a trial or a hot case. She had paralegal training and she wanted to work full time for a private lawyer or a prestigious law firm. She was well thought of and was well liked. I liked her just fine and it seems she returned the affection. 

We dated, found we had everything in common and we began to get very serious. We experimented with sex and found that we were very compatible. She was open about what she liked as was I. We found it easy to meet each other's needs and we found lovemaking to be beyond anything we had ever experienced with others. We were in love and our fates were sealed. I proposed during a Christmas break and she accepted. We were married in a typical June wedding with most of our friends in attendance. Both our families lived in other parts of the country so we found ourselves alone once the wedding was over. We honeymooned in Hawaii like typical couples and spent the first week in bed. We did get out the second week but we still found each other to be more of interest than the Islands.

Once back in the states, I went back to my job as a cop and she found a new job with a firm specializing in Defense. She loved the job and began to work more in her field as a paralegal. We decided to begin our family shortly after I made detective and Julie came along first. Carol stayed home for almost a year with Julie but went back shortly after. Things remained the same until Julie turned two and Jimmy was conceived. Carol repeated the pattern with Jimmy and returned to work a year later. That was seven years ago. During that time, I had never had reason to doubt my wife or our marriage. Carol was a loving wife and a wonderful mother and I loved her as much now as I did when we were married. I had always trusted her to keep our home and our children safe while I was on the job. I did the same when she had to work long hours on a big case. We trusted each other completely.

I pulled into what was once my driveway and went in the side door. I knocked first, then pushed open the door that led into the kitchen. I expected Carol would fix a dinner and I wasn't disappointed. The smells were mouthwatering and I was starved for a real meal rather than the blue plate specials I had been living on for the past two weeks. Carol was there as well, looking very nice. Her red hair was down, just touching her shoulders and shining with that glow that she somehow created. Her face was pale but she had tried to use some blush to give it color. Her lipstick matched her hair and her green eyes, while always one of her best features, were red and puffy. Her appearance gave me a small twinge of satisfaction. Seems I wasn't the only one in pain. 

"Pete, you're here. Please, come in. I fixed all your favorites. I assume you've been eating at the diners since you left? I hope you'll at least sit down and eat a decent meal while we talk."

"I could eat, and it sure smells good." I moved to my regular seat and filled my plate. As I shoveled in the good food, I asked, "where are Julie and Jimmy?" 

Julie and Jimmy were our two kids. Julie was the oldest at nine and Jimmy was seven. Both were redheads like their mom and Jimmy was broad in the chest and shoulders just like me. Julie took after her mother but she did have my nose. Other than that, she was a beautiful girl and Jimmy was a good looking boy. We had made a good pair of kids, I'll admit to that. And they were good kids! I had to give Carol the credit for that since I wasn't home a lot early on in their raising. I was still a beat cop when we married but I had already qualified for my shield and was working for the DA. It took hours of dedication and hard work but all of a sudden, I had regular hours for the most part and my take home was a lot better. And for the record, I knew they were mine. That comment about doubting was to hurt her like she hurt me.

"The kids are with my mother. She doesn't mind keeping them for a few hours. I told her I would pick them up before bedtime."

"I would have liked to see them. I guess you knew that though didn't you?"

"Yes, Pete. I knew but I wanted to talk to you first. We can go get them together you know. All you have to do is stop with this nonsense and come home once and for all. Just come home Pete. Please!"

"Tell me why you were with Jeff that day, Carol. Tell me why you were alone with him and why you were going up to a room with him, Carol? Tell me that, Carol, and if you have a good reason, one I can actually believe, I'll come home. I'll come home, Carol, if you can give me one reason why you were going up to another man's hotel room." 

"It was a stupid mistake Pete! I was not thinking straight and I was being foolish. He had been after me for months and he kept telling me that I would love being with him and that you wouldn't know so it wouldn't hurt anything or anyone. I just gave in, but I never intended to go any further then that. I would have turned around and come home before I could cheat on you. I believe that Pete. I really do and I want you to believe me too. You have to know I would never cheat on you. I love you and I love our family! I would never risk that. Never. I swear Peter. I swear to you, that I have never cheated on you."

I listened, I let her talk and I wanted in the worst way to believe her. But I was a cop: a detective. I listened to people every day tell me lies that sounded like the truth. I listened to beautiful young women who had everything to live for tell me lies about their boyfriends. I heard men who had beautiful families lie about the women they had been with. I picked up hookers and pimps every damned day who lied about anything I asked them. And most were believable. Most were so sincere that you just wanted to believe every word they said. But they were liars! They lied to protect what they had or to deny what they did to avoid punishment. They all had reasons to lie and they did. The stronger the reason, the better the lie.

Carol had every reason to lie. She had me, her marriage, her children and this home we had worked so hard for. She would lie to protect it all. And she seemed sincere. She sounded as if she were telling the truth. And I wanted so much to believe her and keep my marriage, my home and my family intact. I wanted it in the worst way. But, I was a cop: I needed corroboration. I needed it and I would get it before making my decision.

After hours of talking and asking questions and listening to answers that were convincing but contradictory in some cases, I finally told her that I wanted to believe her but that I needed time. Time to put it all together in my head and come to a decision. She pleaded, mentioning the kids again, pulling out all the stops, but I still said I needed time. I finally stood, thanked her for the dinner and walked quickly out of the house and to the car. My heart was breaking and if I had stayed any longer, I would have given in and taken her in my arms. I wanted so much to just hold her and love her and forget that I ever had doubts. I wanted to but I couldn't. 

I drove back to my one room in the armpit of the city and cried. I was a tough cop, one who had seen it all and shrugged my shoulders as if to say, "Tough!" But tonight I just sat in the single chair in the room and cried. I loved Carol with all I had in me. I had loved her since the first night I saw her and I died when I saw her with that man in that hotel. I never understood what they meant when they said someone died from a broken heart. I did now! I finally understood what those women felt when they lost a son or a husband or a lover. I understood the man who fell apart when his wife was found dead in an apparent robbery. I understood the grief of a father for his daughter, a husband for his wife. I understood.

It was daylight when I opened crusted eyes to face a new day alone. I looked around my single room and shuddered at the sight. I had to make a decision as soon as possible. I had to find out the truth so I could move on. Living like this was punishment that I didn't deserve. I needed information and if shithead didn't come to me today, I was going to go to him. And if that happened, he was going to be one unhappy asshole!

When I got in, I found two messages from Carol wanting me to call her and one message from shithead, asking me to call him. I tossed all three in the trash can and went over to see what Ed had going. He had come in early to put the final touches on our case against Willie Jude since the DA decided to go forward. We would be called to testify and we needed to be sure all the I's were dotted and the T's crossed. He nodded to me but continued with his work. I decided to grab a cup of coffee while he finished. I brought two back, slid one in front of him and sat down in the side chair next to his desk.




The Detective



"There! Done! We have an airtight case and our paperwork is pristine as usual. No shithead lawyer is gonna find anything wrong with this case. Another closed homicide to our credit due to our incredibly good work and superior understanding of the criminal mind."

I laughed out loud; pleased again that Ed was my partner. He was good for what ailed me and I needed him now more than ever. He knew all about it and kept it to himself unless I asked for his input. He would never mention anything I said to anyone, including his wife Helen. He and Helen had been together for longer than Carol and I and had three kids to prove it. Ed jr., Tommy and Alice. Ed jr. was twelve and Tommy and Alice were ten year old twins. He had a great family, almost as good as the one I thought I had. That was before Carol cheated on me.

"Good work on that confession even if they challenged it. It was clean and done by the book. Screw the DA if he can't keep it in. We have him nailed either way."

"Right. Any word from shithead? Word was he was pretty frazzled yesterday. Word was he was looking to talk to anyone who could help him. No names were mentioned."

"Got a note he called and wanted me to get back to him. Not gonna happen that way. He should know better. Thinks he can put one over on me? I'm not as stupid as my wife."

Ed just shrugged and we went on with our work. We had several open cases and we were waiting for something to break on several of them when the desk sergeant called up from downstairs.

"Hey Cross. There's a dirtbag lawyer here to see you. Wants to come up. What should I do with him?"

I looked at Ed, considered my options, and then made a snap decision. "Put him in the holding room. I'll be down directly."

He laughed once and said, "You got it!" I hung up and told Ed that I had a visitor. 

He nodded, looked expectantly at me but I just shook my head. He had no need to be involved any further. I would deal with this myself from here on. I stood, grabbed my shield and weapon and went out and down the steps to the first floor where the sixteenth district uniforms had their home. I walked over to the desk sergeant and he pointed to his left. That meant dirtbag was stashed in the smallest of the three holding rooms. They were rooms where we kept the less than helpful witnesses while they sweated. 

I walked over and opened the door and stood there looking at Jeff Trousdale. He was a tall man, younger than I and well built. He had a slight paunch coming from rich living and his suit and tie were probably worth more than I made in a month. He was good looking in a dark way with coal black hair worn long and to his shoulders, and dark brown eyes. The women probably went for his type. His mouth was now pursed in a tight unhappy line and his eyes were flashing with his anger. I was about to see what I could do about that. 

I moved my head, signaling him to follow me as I moved back the way I had come. I stopped at the desk and asked the sergeant if I could have one of the interview rooms in the back of the building. He looked at his calendar and held up two fingers, indicating I could use Interview Two. I moved away, not bothering to see if shithead followed. It was a long walk, taking a couple of minutes to make our way back there. I had to travel through rows of desks where cops of all ranks were sitting, standing or just lounging before or after shift change. Their eyes followed Jeff Trousdale as he moved through them. There was no love in their eyes and he had to see that. 

I reached the room, held open the door while he walked past me and into the room. I could smell his fear as he passed me. I shut the door behind me and twisted the lock. There was a two way glass and a microphone and camera in the room but as a cop, I knew where to disable the electronics. I did so with a glance at the two way mirror and made a signal saying " Private!" It would be honored. 

"OK shithead. Speak!" I wanted it clear this was no friendly chat. I sat down and crossed my legs, my hands resting loosely on my knees. I was calm and in control. 

"What the fuck is going on? I can't make a move without some damned cop giving me grief! Someone is trying to fuck me up and they're succeeding. I have half a mind to sue the city! But then I heard you were the guy to see. I don't want to sue if I don't have to. Nobody would win that battle. You must want something?"

"Don't you even recognize me shithead? My name is Pete Cross and you've been fucking my wife Carol!"

All of a sudden, his face went dead white and his eyes got huge. They were looking at me as if I suddenly sprouted horns and he was in fear for his life. Well, actually, he should feel that way. He began to stutter, his hand waving in front of him like someone was trying to grab him. I just sat there, waiting. I could see the realization sinking in and the understanding that he was in deep, deep shit.

"Oh shit! Now wait a minute Cross. I don't know what you think but I can explain. It's not what you think. It's just a misunderstanding."

Now the training kicked in. I had interviewed murders and cheaters and thieves in this room and I had broken them all. This was my turf, not his.

"Now see, Jeff? Already you're pissing me off! I took time off my busy job because I thought you wanted to talk and all you're doing is saying things to make me angry. I think maybe you should just go back to your own life and let things be. I'm sure if you just live a clean life, the police should have no reason to give you grief."

"Listen! It's not what you think. Let me explain. Please!"

"Explain what? You've been fucking my wife and we both know it. So what is it I don't understand? She came on to you? It's not your fault? You were just at the wrong place at the wrong time? Shit! I've heard them all, Jeffy, so save it! You're a slimeball lawyer and you wouldn't know the truth if it hit you in the balls!"

He slumped down in his chair and looked suddenly less like a lawyer and more like a man sentenced to life in prison. His eyes were glassy and he looked about to cry. I had no sympathy and started to stand when he said, "OK. What do you want to know? I'll tell you anything you want to know. Just ask."

"Tell me everything. When it started; why it happened, how often the two of you got together. Don't lie because at the first lie, you're out of here and I'll make it my goal to see that your life will be no better than dog shit. Understand that first. I'll make your life hell on earth! Make sure I get the truth and nothing but the truth so help your worthless life!"

He nodded, sat up straight and began. "We've been together about a month. I seduced her a month ago when we finished a successful case that we had been working on. I told her we should go have a couple of drinks to celebrate. I kept giving her doubles until she was loosened up. I took her up to a room I booked and we fucked for over an hour."

He looked at me with fright but I kept my face blank. This I could do even though my stomach was roiling and I was fighting to keep it down. I felt the pain of each word cut through me like a knife. This was going to be worse than I feared.

"After that, she tried to resist but I finally convinced her to do it again a week later. I admit I used what I knew and threatened to tell you. She was scared and finally agreed. We left the office early one afternoon and went to the Marriott and we spent three hours together doing everything I could think of. She is a fantastic piece of ass and you are a lucky man. And you should know, she never once talked you down and if I even mentioned you, she would go off like a rocket. She slapped me more than once when I said something about you or her kids. She loves you man.

"Listen. We did it maybe three or four times but it was just sex. She wasn't into it after the first time and I was getting tired of just getting myself off. But hell, she's a gorgeous woman. There's nothing more to it than that and it's over and done. She quit you know, that day was to be the last time. Hell, I threatened to tell you but she insisted it was over. I did try to make her do it with me one more time but she refused. We were going back to the room to check out. I haven't seen her since that day. She told me it was over and that she never wanted to see me again. The very next day she called in and resigned. She's never even come in to get her stuff."

I was fighting to keep myself from lashing out and killing this man. I had my gun, I could probably find a way to make it a justified shoot but I was a cop in more ways than one. I believed in the law and I had no choice in the matter. I had to let him go. He had broken no laws and he was free to go. I stood, walked over to the door, unlocked it and pointed at him.

"Get the fuck out of here and stay out of my sight! I won't make any promises but I won't make any threats either. Just stay the hell out of my sight!"

"What about the harassment? Is that going to stop now?"

"I don't know anything about that but I might try talking to some people who might know something about it. I wouldn't push it if I were you. Now isn't a good time to push me."

He must have heard me because he jumped up and almost ran out of the room. I didn't even watch him go. I sat there for what seemed like hours but was only a few minutes. I had what I wanted and needed and it was not good news. I knew now that Carol had lied to me and that told me something. I slowly got up, walked out of the room and made the long walk through the uniforms and back to the elevator. I was so sick at heart that I took the elevator up the three flights of steps to my desk.

"You look like you just lost your best friend. Bad news?" Ed was sitting at his desk and watching me. I assumed the sergeant had called him to let him know what was going down. 

"Very bad; worse than I had hoped. But, now I know. And they say knowledge is a wonderful thing. Well, guess what? That's a fucking lie! Knowledge can be a real kick in the face!"

"Hey buddy. Let's you and me take some lost time. I'll clear it with the LT." He disappeared and came back minutes later and grabbed me by the collar. He pulled, knowing I would come up ready to kick his ass but by the time I was up, he was already moving away and heading toward the elevator. I followed, my temper already cooling, the energy it took to remain angry being sucked dry by the news I had just learned.

Ed and I spent the next two hours talking about my options and drinking a few beers. I needed the alcohol to help me think straight. The pain was just now beginning in earnest and I was looking at the rest of my life without my wife of thirteen years. The thing that made it so hard was the kids. You can live without a wife or a husband, even if it is painful at first, but it's not the same with kids. They are born and they work their way into your heart without you even noticing. My kids were my life. Everything I did was for them and their future. I thought I was doing it with the help of my wife and my life partner, but apparently I was wrong. 

We came up with a list of things I had to do. The first was to confront my wife and let her know that I knew what she did. And I should contact a lawyer of my own first to tell me how to do things. I wanted to make sure she couldn't hurt me again in court like she hurt me in our home. That was certain. Ed suggested I contact the lawyer first but I couldn't wait. I had to make my break from Carol first and then let the chips fall where they may. We parted and I decided then and there to confront her. 

When I walked in that evening, Carol was surprised but looked happy to see me. I spent some time with the kids, catching up on what I had missed and promising to spend the weekend with them. The wanted to know when I was coming home but I was vague, telling them I was involved in a big project and had to keep myself available to make sure it went off OK. They bought into that when I told them it was a secret project and they had to swear to keep it to themselves. They went to their rooms to work on their computers and finish off their homework. That left Carol and I alone.

She settled down on the couch with me with our coffee. I told her again that I was having trouble with her story and asked if she would to through it again with me just to help me understand what she was trying to say. She smiled, assured me she had absolutely nothing to hide and launched into a convoluted story about a long period of attempted seduction by Trousdale but her staunch refusal to give in. The day at the hotel was a mistake but fortunately I arrived in the nick of time to save her and our marriage. 

She finished her narrative with a look of triumph. She thought that she had woven a tale that I had no choice but to accept. And if I hadn't talked to Jeff earlier, I probably would have believed her. She sounded so sincere, so truthful; her story so well thought out that it was almost real. But since she had been lying to me for the past month or more, she had practice. 

What hurt the worst was that she chose to lie to me; to betray me with Jeff and then to lie to me, both during the affair and now after I knew the truth. That hurt! The lies hurt the most! The sex was something we could have discussed, and I could have tried to get past, but when she lied, compounding her betrayal, that was too much. It suggested to me how little she respected me. I was left with no choice: now was the time to bring this to a conclusion.

I looked directly into her eyes and steeled myself. I had to remain calm but I had to tell her what I knew. I took a deep breath, and began.

"I talked to your lover today." I was determined to get this thing done before I lost my nerve. She was still my wife and I had been ready to let her convince me of her faithfulness but I was also a man whose pride was destroyed and whose self respect was in question. It was a fact now that she had betrayed my trust in her and she had taken my manhood away from me. For those of you who don't understand that, take a course in anthropology; the study of humans. Look up male: emotions and feelings. Primitive? You bet! But real just the same! 

"What are you talking about, Pete? I told you I don't have a lover. I don't know what you're trying to say? Don't you believe me? Don't you believe that I didn't go through with it and I know that I wouldn't have?"

"Your lover told me that he first fucked you a month ago after you and he celebrated a big case. He got you drunk and he took you up to his hotel room and the two of you fucked for over an hour. A week later, you did it again, that time for three hours, and you've done it a couple of more times since then. That's what I know and I believe his story because he had an incentive to tell me the truth!" 

Carol was looking at me as if she was afraid I would pull my gun and shoot her. The fear was real on her face and I wondered where that came from. Hell, after thirteen years I thought she would know me better. But then, after what she did, I doubted that she did really understand me or even know me as well as I thought. I looked back, waiting for her to make some stupid statement of denial. 

"He told you? He told you that? Why would he tell you that? Why would you believe him?" She was beginning to stutter and her face was now pale and pinched. Her world was coming down around her and she had no way to stop it.

"Because I have a lot of friends on the force that saw the two of you together. They know shithead and they don't like shithead. They made it a point to make his fucking life miserable and they let him know I was the one that could make it stop. He finally got up the nerve to come see me. Yeah, he told me. He told me the truth."

"Pete, you have to let me explain. It was a mistake. I made a terrible mistake and I'm so sorry. I got carried away the first time by having too much to drink. I think he gave me something that caused me to lose control. I believe that! And I was afraid he would make trouble after I refused him a couple of times after that. He threatened to tell you and I was afraid, so I let him do it a second time. I didn't cooperate and it was so bad I thought he would let me alone but he still wanted to do it. I didn't enjoy it and I made it difficult for him each time. You have to believe me."

"No, I don't. I don't believe you and I think you would have kept doing it if I hadn't caught you. I saw your face that day. It was clear you were enjoying yourself. You liked what you were doing and you wanted to continue. You had your arms around him and your face turned up for a kiss. You were smiling at him and the two of you had been up to the room earlier and had already fucked at least once that day. So, no, I don't believe you."

"Please! Oh, God, what have I done? Please Pete, don't push me away. I love you with all my heart. I screwed up and I'm sorry! I was wrong and I promise it will never happen again. Never! Please Pete, tell me you still love me. Please tell me!"

"Love has nothing to do with it Carol. Of course I still love you. How can I just stop something like that? You're the mother of my children and I've loved you since the day I met you. But I no longer trust you, and a marriage requires trust. To do my job, I have to be away from you and my children and when that happens, I trust that you will be there to protect what we have. When you are away, I know you trust me to take care of our home and our children, and I have. I've never betrayed that trust. But you have! I trusted you Carol and you betrayed that trust. So, how can I continue to live with you?" 

She was now crying steadily. I hated to watch her cry and I wanted to go to her and comfort her. That need was so intense. I was a man and I couldn't stand to see a woman cry, especially one that I loved. But I had to back off, back away and let her cry. 

She had betrayed me and now I was alone. She didn't even understand how painful that was to realize that someone I trusted so completely and intimately had betrayed me. That trust was lost and I felt so damned alone. She did that to me! And I hated her for that!

"I need some time to make arrangements. I want you to get yourself a good lawyer to protect yourself. I'm angry at you and I will try to hurt you so be sure to protect yourself. I'll file for divorce. I won't state any grounds. We can just split everything 50/50. You've always paid your way and I respect that. We can decide on child support but I will never stint on my kids."

Carol had stopped crying when I mentioned divorce. She was shaking her head back and forth, saying "No!" over and over. I ignored her as I continued. I wanted this done and done immediately. I couldn't stand to look at her and I had to get away. I stood; ready to walk out when she rose, pushing the chair back so violently it crashed against the wall.

"No! I'll fight you every step of the way. I'll get a good lawyer and he'll stop you. I'll not give up on our marriage. Never! I fucked up! I know it, but it meant nothing to me. Nothing! Damn you Pete. You know that! You know in your heart that I love you and you love me and that's forever! You know it but you're so mad at me you can't see that. Well, you will when you come to your senses."

She moved toward me with her hands out, beseeching me. I moved away, my own hands in my pockets. I stepped around the table, keeping it between us. I was too weak to take much more of this. I just wanted to get out; to escape!

"I know I deserve your anger and I know you're hurting. I want to die knowing I did that to you. I just want to die and never have to think of what I did again. I want to do that but I can't. You and the kids are my life and I won't let you break us apart. We belong together and that's the truth. No, Pete! I won't allow you to break us apart. I almost did it with my actions but we're still here! We're still a family and I've learned. I'll never do anything like that again. You just have to forgive me Pete. That's all it will take. Just forgive me and I'll make you know that it was the right thing to do. Just forgive me and give me another chance. Everyone deserves a second chance. As a cop, you know that!"




The Detective



I had to get out of there. This was tearing me apart! I was already hurting so damned bad from her betrayal and now she was throwing herself at me, begging me for a second chance. I wanted nothing more than to give in, to let her back into my life. But I couldn't! I couldn't just forgive her! I hurt too bad to do anything but strike back at her: to hurt her like she hurt me. That's what she did to me.

"I have to go. I'll talk to you later, let you know who to call and who will represent me. I have to go!" 

With that I turned and almost ran from the house. I got into my car and drove as fast as I could away from her and from the life I had come to depend on. 

It had been almost two weeks since my confrontation with Carol and things were about to change. I was still in that same single room but I had made arrangements to move back into the house. Carol would stay in the second floor master bedroom and I would take the spare room. It was on the first floor and had its own bath and entrance. It was what they used to call a 'Mother in Law' apartment.

That arrangement had come about purely from a monetary bind. As a cop, I didn't make a lot of money and Carol's job as a paralegal wasn't a lot better. She made almost as much as I did, but we had a lot of obligations. The house, the kids, the two cars and the utilities with food and clothing. I had my attorney contact her attorney and pass on the request: she agreed immediately. She wanted me home and this was in her best interest. I knew what she was thinking but I didn't much care. I wanted to be closer to my kids and this would accomplish that. My lawyer didn't like it but he finally agreed if I continued to maintain separate bedrooms. He came to believe that the money angle would play well with the judge.

We were going to court. She had kept her promise. She fought me every step of the way. She raised objections about child support, and although I knew she found a new job almost immediately, she claimed hardship since she had to quit her job to stay home with the kids. She raised other issues and each one cost me money and time. She was smarter than I suspected but then she was a paralegal. She had access to knowledge that I didn't. But I was stubborn and I fought on. I relied on the department's legal team and they supported me pro bono. 

I was with my kids every evening and during the weekends. I worked as few hours as I could and Ed supported me so that I could be home before they were ready for bed. I would eat dinner with them on weekends but I spent each evening during the week eating at one or the other of diners I knew about. I was losing weight and eating crap, but I was determined to make this on my own. Funny: usually it's the wife who has the problem getting by on their own. 

When I was alone in my room during the evenings, Carol always made it a point to knock on the door and ask if I needed anything. Each night when I came home, the bed was made and fresh towels were in the bathroom. Everything I would need was there and neatly laid out for me to find. I understood her strategy and I appreciated it. But I didn't let it affect me.

Once I was in for the night, I rarely opened the door but she continued to make sure I knew she was just on the other side, waiting. It was killing me, knowing she was there. It was murder, pardon the pun but I resisted the impulse to open the door and pull her inside. When that urge became too hard to resist, I imagined her on her back with shithead's ass pumping up and down between her leg, and her with her legs wrapped around him. That thought worked for awhile but it soon faded since her description of their sessions sort of said that wasn't what happened. From then on, however, I used my right hand to satisfy the urges! 

Our lawyers kept fighting and a month later we were finally summoned to court to find out why we couldn't come to terms. I arrived to find her and our lawyers waiting for me. She had requested a meeting with me before we were forced to let the judge decide. My lawyer was in favor, urging me to settle this civilly rather than have a judgment forced down my throat. He said I would not be pleased if the judge got involved. I agreed out of desperation.

We were shown to a small room without windows and containing a single desk with four chairs. I went in, followed by Carol who stood there looking around. She finally sighed, and took one of the chairs. I followed suit, taking the one across from her. I looked at her and made a motion for her to start.

"When are you going to forgive me and help me get our life back on track? You know this isn't what either of us want. I admit that I fucked up and I promise it will never happen again. I'm sorry for what I did. I'll do anything you want to make up for it. Just tell me what it is you need me to do and I'll do it. Do you want to have your own affair? Fine! I won't ask any questions and I'll wait till you tell me it's over. In the meantime, I'll remain faithful."

She was serious, that much I could tell. I did know her as well as anyone could and I knew when she was telling me the truth. And before you say anything, she never really lied to me before because I never asked any questions. I trusted her blindly. It never occurred to me to question her. So she had no reason to lie. 

"I can't forgive you. At least not yet. I still see you and him together and in my nightmares, I imagine all sorts of things. Sometimes I wake and can't get back to sleep because of what I see when I close my eyes. How do you expect me to live with that?"

"Oh God, Pete! It was nothing like that. It was never like it was with you and I making love. It was just quick, dirty sex with no foreplay and no affection. What you saw in the lobby was me trying to convince him to get it over with. That wasn't me enjoying anything! I just wanted it to end and that day was the last for both of us. He had to tell you that I was ending it that day!"

I knew that part was true but so what? She still cheated on me and in doing that, betrayed everything I thought I knew about her. And for what? What did she gain by doing it? I had never asked her that. Why?

"Carol, tell me why you did it? Why would you throw away all we had for a stupid affair with another man? Why?"

"It was stupid and selfish of me. I was spending a lot of time with Jeff and he was a smart, smooth operator who always made it a point to flatter me, to tell me how sexy I was and how much he admired me. He talked about my kids and you and how lucky you were to have me. And he made no secret of the fact that he wanted me too. He kept after me and I began to look forward to his praise and his attempts to seduce me. I had no problem resisting him but I finally got it in my head that I wanted to see what it was like. He was not a threat to you and he never tried to be. I just thought it would be safe to do it once just to see what it would be like. It never meant any more to me than that."

"What about me and the kids? Did you ever consider what it would do to me if I found out?"

"You were never to know! Never! It was my secret and after I found out how guilty I felt, I knew I could never tell you. God, how it ate at me, but even so I did it again. I'll never know why! I should have told you and ended it immediately. I still ask myself why I didn't do that."

I listened but nothing made any sense to me. They were just words that carried with them the pain of her betrayal. I understood then that nothing she said could make it any better for me. I had to live with this and learn to either live with it or move on. I rose and said in as calm a voice as I could, "What can we do to make this happen quicker?"

She looked at me, her eyes brimming with tears as she considered my words. "Nothing! I haven't changed my mind. I don't want this divorce and I will continue to make it as hard for you as possible. You will have to throw me away because I won't go quietly!"

With that, she walked out of the room. We were going to court.

The judge wasn't happy and he made his ruling that the lawyers would get together and work something out or he would take it into his own hands and decide for himself. He told both of us that we were foolish people to force him to do something like that. He mentioned our two kids and wanted to know if we knew what we were doing to them. I listened, but I had heard judges rant and rave for years. I tuned him out. When he slammed the gavel down, I stood and walked out as quickly as possible. I went back to work.

Ed and I had a new case: one that involved a drug deal gone bad. There were two dead blacks and one dead Hispanic lying in the morgue. It was the beginnings of a real down and out drug war between two rival gangs. Right now the Hispanics were ahead two to one and the blacks had vowed to even the score. Ed and I were trying to mediate an end but it wasn't going very well. We were to meet one of the leaders that night and see what we could arrange. We were pretty sure of the shooters and we wanted them bad but we had to end the violence first. 

Ed and I made our plans, and we both went in armed to the teeth. It was in a run down section of town but we knew it like the back of our hand. We parked the car in a strategic location, made sure we had plenty of ammo and a clear line of fire and we told dispatch where we were and to have a couple of units available if we called. Dispatch said cars were cruising the neighborhood and would respond when called. We had done all we could and now we just waited for Booker to show up. He was the kingpin we needed to call off the retaliation. If he would. 

From the get-go, the meeting was a bust. First, three Hispanic men showed up and looked around as if to ask what the hell was going on. We were in neutral territory so they were in no danger from the other gangs but we didn't expect them and it looked bad for Ed and I. The man we were to meet didn't show at all. Now, we found ourselves in the middle of a bad situation. Ed and I had our weapons out as we faced down the three armed and angry men that thought we were trying to set them up. We had no idea what they were talking about but we were beginning to realize that we were the ones set up. We tried to talk our way out of it but someone, somewhere, started shooting. That's when all hell broke loose!

I remember Ed yelling, me calling Dispatch for backup, telling them "shots fired!" and both of us returning fire. We were trying to move back behind the car for some cover when I felt a smack in the middle of my chest. Then everything went quiet. 

I saw Ed look at me in shock, I saw him get off a few shots and then he was talking to me, but I could hear nothing! I knew I had been hit and I thought Carol would be pleased that our divorce wouldn't be a problem since I would be dead. I realized at that instant I was going to miss her. I loved her with all my heart and the wave of sadness that washed over me caused my eyes to water and my heart to pound. I wished I had tried to work things out, to find some forgiveness, but it was too late now. I was afraid that by my refusal to forgive her, I was going to go to hell. I was shaken by a wave of pain those last thoughts brought. That was the last thing I remembered. 

I woke suddenly and in panic. I looked wildly around me to see if the shooting was still continuing and if we were in trouble. I knew I couldn't hear the sound of gunfire but I knew it had to still be going on. I was trying to get up and having no success when someone put a hand on my shoulders and pushed me back down. I found I had no strength to fight them and let my shoulders slump back. I was surprised when what I lay down on was soft, rather than hard concrete. I closed my eyes, squeezed them tight like they taught us in academy and then opened them again. 

I found myself looking directly into Carol's eyes. She was above me, looking down and her eyes were glassy and wet. I blinked again, several times, and tried to make some sense out of things. Why would she be here in the middle of a firefight? She could get killed! I tried to tell her that and couldn't get my mouth to work right. All I heard was a few mumbles that made no sense. And then it hit me: I could hear! And I noticed that there was no gunfire and no sounds of yelling or sirens in the distance. Nothing that should be there. I shut my eyes and tried to think.

"Pete, open your eyes! It's me and you're OK. You're in a hospital. You were shot and you've been asleep for a long time. You're safe Peter. Open your eyes!"

I heard the words and they seemed to answer some of the questions that were whirling around in my mind: why had the gunfire stopped and why were there no sounds of sirens and street cops and everything else. I had apparently been hit and I had been taken to a hospital. And I was alive! That was the most surprising thing of all. I was alive!

I opened my eyes and saw Carol staring down at me. When my eyes stayed open, she pulled back with a smile on her face. She seemed happy as she turned to call the nurse. I just watched her as she went out into the hall, holding onto the doorjamb as she motioned for someone to come. I had time to look at her as she stood there and I saw with surprise that she was dressed in a drab sweater over a worn looking housedress. That seemed so out of place for her that I noticed it even in the state of confusion I was in at the time. 

After that, it was more confusion for a while. There were doctors and nurses all doing things to me and to the machines around me. I was feeling nothing from my apparent wounds but I was also not feeling much like celebrating. My head felt fuzzy, my stomach was definitely unhappy, none of my muscles wanted to obey my commands and I had an overall feeling of lethargy. I just wanted to go to sleep and sleep for the next week or longer. Anything to get my body to feel like mine again. I shut my eyes and felt it all drift away. 

The next two days were strange for me. I woke later that day to find the nurse unhooking me from my support machines. I had to sit up, lay back, sit up, and in general move my body like a puppet. The best part was that I felt little pain in my chest where the bullet had gone in. The doctor who came in that afternoon told me they were able to get the bullet out and seal me up which was fortunate since the bullet was very close to my heart. If it had to stay inside, it would have moved eventually and killed me. I had been unconscious for almost forty eight hours. He told me my condition had been upgraded to satisfactory and that I could be discharged in a few days if nothing else changed.

Ed came in along with several of my friends from the department. Lots of uniforms, buddies from when Ed and I had done our time among them visited over the next two days and I felt better after their visits. Good friends make recovering much easier and faster. 

I also saw my two kids, Julie and Jimmy, when Carol and Ed sneaked them in. They were too young to visit by hospital rules but we were part of the police department and the hospital gave us some privileges. I guess they saw too many of us hurt or injured and they tended to favor us. Not better care, just more caring. I spent almost ten minutes with Julie and Jimmy and that was the highlight of my day. I needed them, in more ways than one.

Carol was strangely different now and I was struggling to make sense of it. Neither of us had mentioned her affair since I had wakened. She was trying very hard to be the perfect wife: solicitous of me, always asking if I needed anything, telling me how much she loved me and how anxious she was for me to get well and come home, but she had trouble meeting my eyes and looked away often. She was clearly nervous and sometimes when the pain or the discomfort got to me, I would curse or make a growl which caused her to hunch her shoulders and turn her head away. Somehow that made me angry, angrier than arguments or words of apology would. 

Only once did I say anything related to the affair when I said something about finding a place to live when I was discharged. Carol's face turned white, her breathing became rapid and strained but she didn't say anything. She looked back at me for a second, her lips quivering like she wanted to say something but then she looked away again. Instead of a rebuttal, she said that she was going to try to get the kids in to see me if she could and I quickly asked her how she could arrange that. The moment was forgotten and we continued to coexist, albeit uncomfortable. 

Ed and Carol seemed to be getting along fine. That surprised me since Ed knew what Carol had done and Ed was fiercely loyal to me, as I was to him. I watched them together and they seemed to get along just as they always had. Carol and Ed's wife were close friends and Ed liked Carol. Always had. Still, it seemed strange. I decided to ask him about it when we were alone. That didn't happen till a day later, just before I was to be released. He was sitting with me, talking about the case we were working when we were shot.

"Seems Booker set us up that day, partner. He claims he got word we were gonna take him down and charge him with the murder of them guys. Wouldn't tell me where that came from but he knows now it was crap. He never apologized as you'd suspect but I could see in his eyes he was gonna get even. Know what partner? I called the team off. I don't give a shit and I ain't gonna try to stop him this time. Let 'em shoot each other up and see if I give a shit. It's cost you too much, us trying to stop those assholes from killing each other. More power to them!"

I agreed with him although it hit me in the gut to allow murder to happen. But sometimes, you have to turn your back and let things go down. Too many people would get hurt trying to stop something that seemed inevitable. So, let em go at each other and then let God sort them out. I nodded as he spoke and then agreed.

"Don't see any other way Ed. I have to agree. Let them do what they have to do and we'll sort it all out later.

"Say Ed. What's with you and Carol? I would have expected a little more loyalty from you, knowing what she did. Don't expect you to hate her or anything, but you two seem to be just fine."

Ed looked at me for a few moments, his mind obviously trying to filter out what to say to me. I had seen that look before, when we were working a case and questioning a suspect. Ed was very careful in his words and he always had control. I watched him come to a conclusion as to what to say. One thing I knew: I could believe whatever he told me.

"Pete, I have to say something to you now. You're my partner and I love you. You know that and you know what I mean when I say that. So, OK, here it is. I was the one that told Carol that you had been shot and that you were in serious condition. Pete, she went to pieces! She lost it man! She went down like she had been shot. She was so far gone, I had to pick her up and carry her to the couch. She was a wreck. I called 911 and sat with her until they could get there. 

"I called Helen and she came over to get the kids when they came home from school and we waited until the bus got there. The emergency guys got there and gave Carol a shot to calm her down cause she was a complete wreck. Pete, she went to pieces, man. I hope to hell I never have to see that again with anyone. It made me seriously think about what we do, I'll tell you.

"Anyway, it was clear to me that you are her life, man. The thought of losing you was almost enough to kill her. Any woman who loves her man that much can't be all bad. You have to know that Carol is beside herself, knowing that she fucked up and almost lost you twice; once to a divorce and once to a fucking bullet. I don't know which was worse for her.




The Detective



"She's been talking with Helen a lot and Helen's forgiven her. I see the way she's been here for you, so I have to say she has my vote. What you do is up to you but believe me, whatever the reason she fucked up, it isn't because she doesn't love you.

"Oh yeah, one more thing. Seems Mr. Lawyer is complaining to the city that the cops are giving him a hard time and there is no reason for it, but his complaints have gone on deaf ears. He was asked to submit his resignation by the partners in his law firm, and it has been suggested he consider relocating to some other state. Last I heard, he was giving it considerable thought. It was passed on to him that maybe the seizure of a dime bag of 'H' found in his car during a stop for a traffic violation could go away if he does as suggested.

"Pete, you've got a lot of friends in this town and a woman who loves you more than life itself. Give it some thought." 

I watched him leave and thought about what I was going to do. I was due to be released tomorrow and I had to make a decision as to where I wanted to go. I had been living in the apartment at home and that was still my best bet but I wanted to be sure. I decided to discuss it with Carol when she came back. 

Carol walked in soon after and sat down beside the bed. She was quiet and I looked at her closely. The strain on her face was clear to see and she looked like she hadn't been sleeping well. Maybe it was concern for me and maybe it was worry over the upcoming divorce. I wasn't sure of anything anymore. That was one of the side effects of infidelity: the loss of trust and confidence. 

"Carol, you know I'm being discharged tomorrow?" 

She looked up, meeting my eyes for a change. "I know. What do you want to do?"

"What do you want me to do?"

She took my hand, looked down at it as she said, "I want you to come home where you belong. Our home, yours and mine, where I can take care of you and the kids can see that you're back with us and everything is going to be OK."

That's what I wanted as well. I remembered the last thought I had when I got shot. The last thing I remembered was that I was sorry we hadn't had the chance to work things out and that I hadn't tried to forgive her. I also remembered the pain I felt at the possibility that I could lose them all. Maybe the shooting was a wake up call. A warning to me that I could easily lose it all in an instant. And I didn't want to die alone. My dad once said something to me when I was angry at a friend who did me wrong. He said "do you want to be angry or happy? You can't be both." He was more right than he knew.

Carol deserved the chance to explain her actions and she deserved a second chance. I had no right to be judge and jury since we were together in this marriage. We had kids and a home together. I wasn't alone and I had no right to make a decision that affected everyone and suited only me. She broke the agreement we made when we married but we both promised for better or worse. I couldn't invoke one part of that agreement and ignore the rest. 

"OK, let's go home. Let's try to see if we can't get past this and survive. I'm willing to try."

Her look of love and devotion was enough for me to think that we had a chance. A real chance to stay together as a family.

Epilogue

I did return home and I recovered completely from my gunshot wound. I was back on desk duty in four weeks and back to full duty in six months. Ed and I solved our share of cases and I made Lieutenant. Ed made detective first class but he sort of stopped there. It was his choice. I eventually got a promotion to Captain and a division of my own and life went on. I missed being on the job but this was safer by far. Carol celebrated when I got my promotion and my desk and I understood why. I was reminded on cold days when my chest hurt.

Carol and I fought back and learned to be a couple again. Her new job was more demanding but it was also more transparent. She made sure I knew where she was at all times and never stayed late without a call to me and an explanation. She introduced me to all her coworkers and made sure I knew who was who. She told me to call her anytime for any reason and she would always answer. She did everything she could to make me trust her again and I finally felt able to do that. 

We made love for the first time three months after I returned home. It took longer than I expected because I continued to fight the visions that would flare up at odd times. Before we made love, I had Carol tell me everything that she and Jeff did. She hated it but she did it and I had to admit, it was far less damaging than my imagination had provided. 

I had nightmares for awhile, some of the shooting and some of Carol and her lover. I can't tell you which were worse. Carol seemed to be able to tell which ones were about her and she would try her hardest to be loving during those times. It did help some. I think her suggestion that we try some new positions and new experiences helped as well. As she said, I would be her first in all we tried. My ego liked that.

We got back to almost where we were before her affair. The kids grew, went on to high school and then to college and we stayed together. The kids got married, had grandkids and we stayed together. We were husband and wife. We loved each other and we cared for each other. But here's the thing. We never made it all the way back. 

There was always that small doubt that lived in the back of my mind every time she was late, or out past the time she said she would be home. I watched her when we were out at parties or at a friend's barbecue. I wondered who called when the phone rang and she answered it. At odd times, I would look up and watch her face when she wasn't aware. I hesitated when she said she wanted to go out with friends and always stayed awake when she was out late. It was hardest at first and only gradually got better with time.

Did she ever cheat again? No! I knew that and I knew that she never would. She told me once that the worst part of cheating wasn't getting caught, or paying a price, or losing my trust. She said those things would slowly come back and I could even learn to believe in her again. She said the worst part of what she did was seeing the pain in my eyes when I learned of her betrayal. She said she never forgot that. She said it still woke her at times when she least expected it. 

And she said she saw the occasional flash of doubt in my eyes even now, years later. She said the pain she felt when that happened was worse than any pain she had ever experienced. She said it was worse than childbirth. So, we both paid a price for her mistakes. Both of us!

Are we happy together? Yes, we are happy and we're where we want to be; with each other. But could it have been better? Yes. If she hadn't cheated it would have been better. I still sometimes feel angry at the loss, but I did say 'for better or worse.' 

Consequences are a bitch! 



The Detective and the Hippie



I'd made detective only a couple of months ago, and I resented being on loan to Narcotics when I was assigned to Homicide. What was I, some kind of temp? But there weren't any murders (hey, I could work cold cases!) and there were a whole hell of a lot of drug users, so I was on loan until somebody killed somebody else, which I hoped happened soon. Provided they were members of a political party I disapproved of, of course. I wasn't unreasonable. 

So that's how I met you. They'd sent me to scout around a university neighborhood known for high octane marijuana. Of course, I wasn't dressed for it. Promotion to detective had meant no more fucking uniform, and I'd invested in a couple of really nice, slightly form fitting suits to celebrate. I looked great, but I wasn't dressed for strolling through people's yards and peering into their vegetable gardens, which was what none of the local nimrods had thought to do. They were probably members of that selfsame political party I had the problem with. I was teetering through the foliage in my heels and tight skirt when I found a patch of truly righteous bud, surrounded by 6 foot tall shrubbery and a lot of fencing. My shoes would never be the same. My hair, which I'd pinned up, was falling down after an encounter with a recalcitrant bush. And I found you. I tried to fish out my badge without falling over. 

It was really warm, and it got warmer as I looked you over. You weren't wearing anything but a pair of Levis so soft and worn that they looked like pale blue velvet. Your hair fell past your shoulders. There was a hoop in your left ear. . You seemed to take my badge entirely in your stride. I swallowed hard and congratulated you on your horticultural expertise. You quirked your eyebrow and accepted the compliment, smiling. Cocky. Just great. What was I supposed to do now? I knew what I wanted to do, of course. There were people who considered it a perk of the job. I even supported legalization for god's sake. Then you took the joint out from behind your ear and lit it, passing it politely to me as soon as you got it going. Oh, what the hell.

I took it and puffed experimentally. Mmm. Very nice. The kind of stuff that got you stoned in 30 seconds flat. I passed it back. I ran my eyes over your shoulders. God. I put my badge back into my pocket. It was too hot, it really was. I needed to get out of the jacket. Wool was far too warm for a day like this. But I wasn't wearing anything under the damned jacket (see form-fitting, above). Everything was becoming too complicated. Somehow the joint was finished. 

I felt more hair slither down the back of my neck. Shit. As I moved both hands up to try and pin it back, your hands were in my hair taking out the pins, letting it fall past my shoulders. It felt unbelievably good. I found my hands running up your chest to your shoulders of their own volition. I kissed you. Or you kissed me. Something happened, something weird and subterranean and overwhelming, that fused us into a single organism. I'm the one who took my jacket off, I remember, because I wanted to feel my breasts against your chest. 

And then we were lying in the grass and I was running my hands along those velvet soft jeans, along your thighs and ass, and the hardness that led me to struggle with the buttons with fingers that were less than steady. Jesus. You were huge. I may have said something as you slipped the pants the rest of the way off and began to work on my skirt. There was too much of you to fit in my mouth, but I tried. God, you were beautiful. You rolled to your back and let me try, winding your hands in my hair. 

But you stopped me before you came, taking me by the shoulders and pushing me back into the grass, rolling over me and thrusting between my legs so acutely, that it didn't even take my hands to guide you in. I may have made some hysterical remark about heat-seeking missiles at that point. You pointed out that our personal arms raise was infinitely preferable to the publicly acknowledged one. I could not but agree. You were so hard and I was so wet that size was no impediment.

And it was as if you found every secret place that could give me pleasure. Maybe because there was so much of you and I was so full as a consequence that there wasn't even a bit of me that you could miss. You kissed my moans and noises into yourself somehow, muffling what could have been too loud, and thrust harder and harder until there were tears in my eyes and my orgasm came like some kind of a thermonuclear explosion, pulling you over the edge too, shaking the garden like an earthquake, making us cling to one another and to the surface of the earth, in the grass, as for a moment we felt it hurtle through space.



The Detective: Lucky or Unlucky?



I can hear the soft crunch underfoot as I move forward, tense to the quiet world around. Dim light snakes through the trees from far to the side. The woods are starting to wake up as the sky turns in. 

Through the trees I make out the lonely fluorescent glow out in the distance, the only thing artificial for miles. 

The perfect place for a hitman to hide out, I'd told Lt. Sawyer. But then she asked for proof. And I didn't have any. Just phone calls and interconnected messages relayed from Big Man Reyes that, if you stared at the pattern long enough, helped lead you to this lonely house. 

We knew Reyes had a high-skilled hitter but we couldn't prove a damn thing. We didn't even know what the hitter looked like; just that he'd gotten to four rival crime lords in the last year. Bullet to the head, no fuss, no muss, little to no trace. Just this house and no one would back me up. And then the keys were in my hand. 

The tree line breaks in front of me. Just 100 yards of grass between me and the house, no sights or souls around, just that lonely fluorescent light. No other movement in the house. I breath, crouch, tense, spring forward. The house rushes to meet me and I come up in a huff to the front porch, crouched low. 

I don't have much of a plan, other than a vague idea of exigent circumstances and more luck than I'm entitled to. But I do have a gun. The black heft conforms against my hand as I slide it out from the holster under my suit jacket. My right hand wraps around the handle and the left cups the bottom. I take a breath, step forward and ease my way up the porch steps. Stop. Listen. Nothing but quiet.

A few more steps and I'm at the door. I reach out, hand easing itself against the handle. Twist and push. The door swings inward, I follow right behind. Gun up, pivoting through the air. No one home save for the lonely light around the corner. But there are sounds. Steady, rhythmic, but I can't make out anything more. Is that coming from upstairs?

One step up. And two. I climb the steps as carefully as I can, hoping that the house doesn't betray my presence. The sounds are getting louder now. Breathing? Top of the steps and the sounds finally coalesce into grunts and moans. Crap, looks like he's not alone. But what do I do? I could turn back. Bolt out to the woods and out the half mile to where I parked as far off the winding country road as I could coax the car. But I've already come this far. A woman who hooks up with a hired killer is surely no angel, right?

Down the hallway, one foot in front of the other. The door ahead is slightly ajar. I slow my breath, willing myself silent. I peak through the open door, ready to put my gun in his face. 

But there is no "he" at all. Just a bare, heart-shaped ass thrust towards my face as long, golden hair at the other end buries itself in another woman's crotch. The redhead at the other end of the pussy licking writhes and moans on the bed at her partner's touch, body quivering from the attention. 

I blink. Try to clear my head of the sight right in front of me, focusing on the hitman nowhere to be seen. But the bare ass keeps swaying to her partner's moans and I can see her tongue lapping at the dripping wet pussy. 

I barely even hear the muffled noise behind me. I turn slightly, still too focused on the sight in front to be scared. There's a sound of lips blowing and a powder in my face. My fingers go numb and suddenly the gun in my hand doubles in weight. My hand can no longer hold it up, I try to grip but it slips from my grasp and falls, achingly slowly, to the hardwood floor below. Bang. I stumble backwards into the bedroom, trying to remain upright. 

The moaning behind me stops. I fight through the fog to try and get a glimpse of the figure in front of me. It starts to come into focus, tight pants clinging to a narrow waste, trailing up a white tank-top to a full chest framed by light blond hair. A devilish grin completes the image. "Sorry to interrupt," she purrs. 

"Interrupt?" I manage to say. 

A slender hand comes up to my chest and gives a shove. I stumble from the push. There's nothing to catch me until I thud up against a far wall and slide down haphazardly.

"I wasn't talking to you," comes the purr. 

"I don't mind Selene," rings a voice from the bed. I swing my head wildly in the voice's direction to rest on the redhead, her small but perky breasts moving up and down as she regains control of her breathing.

"Speak for yourself," the leggy blond wrapping herself around the redhead says. I think she's glaring at me. 

Footsteps draw me back to the woman who'd pushed me. She bends down. Her hand reaches forward and tilts my chin up to meet her gaze. "I think you might need to make your rudeness up to my friend Jane over there. What do you think Detective Meln?"

How the hell does she know my name? My voice cracks as I try to reply. "Who?" I stammer. "Where... where's the hitman?"

My question is met with giggling laughter. The woman in front of me, Selene, raises her hand to her full mouth as she tries to stifle it. "Always with the masculine pronouns," she finally says. "Wake up and smell the 21st century!" Her hand flashes out and smacks me on the side of my head, lightly. "How do you know this hitman, if he even exists, isn't a hitwoman, hmm? Or hitwomen!"

What?

"Now detective, I'm not saying such a thing exists but if it did, don't you think one great way to get to someone in, say, the sanctity of their home, with no trace of force, might be if they wanted you to be there?"

I think I'm going to be hitting myself later for this. But right now I can still barely move. 

"What did you do to me?" I manage. 

A wider grin greets my question. "Don't worry, the effects aren't permanent. As a matter of fact, in about an hour there won't be any trace of it in your system at all. But I think that's more than enough time. What do you think ladies?"

The naked women on the bed smile wide. "Really Selene?" asks the redhead. 

"I don't see why not. Detective Meln here, I'm inclined to say he owes us." 

"Definitely," says Jane the leggy blond as she glides off the bed and stalks forward. Her round breasts bob lightly as she bends forward to bring her face level with mine. "He is cute, isn't he?"

"Very," says the redhead as she comes forward to my other side. I feel her arms wrap around mine. "Ooh and you need to feel his muscles. Hard as a rock."

"Really?" Jane says as she reaches forward to rest her hand on my chest. "Oh you're right. This is going to be even more fun than I thought." Her hand trails to the other side and wraps itself around my free arm. Together the two naked women hall me to my feet. I try to resist but all my body seems capable of doing is standing and wobbling unless otherwise directed. They half-drag my hobbling frame over to the bed and push me up against the metal frame at the head. 

Pillows are propped up against my back and the two women spread my arms wide. A clinking sound draws my attention back to Selene, who's now stalking up onto the bed with a pair of handcuffs. Click, sounds the cuff on my right side. Click, and now my left. 

The women array themselves around me. Jane and the redhead on either side, their forearms resting on my chest. Selene takes the middle, hand on my thigh. 

"What are you doing?" I finally stammer. 

"Whatever we want," Jane says as she bends her face towards mine and takes my mouth in hers. Her lips work at my mouth. I can't resist, not when her tongue teases at my lips or darts inside. Her hands wrap around my face as she drinks from me. The kiss is long and wet and deep. 

I feel hands rubbing against my chest. Then a ripping, popping sound as the redhead and Selene pull my shirt open. The buttons scatter across the room. Jane breaks off the kiss for me to watch as the two other women move in to suck on my nipples. I moan involuntarily as the tingling spreads across my body. I feel a hand dart under pants and grab my cock. My head arches back of its own accord as the hand starts to massage my balls. In a moment there's a feeling of pressure on my crotch as I jump to attention. 

"I think he's ready," purrs the voice attached to the hand. 

There's a clinking sound as they undo my belt and pull my pants down to my knees. My cock springs into the air. It doesn't get to enjoy its freedom long though. Jane bends down to wrap her hand around the shaft, fingers working up and down as her tongue flits out to kiss the tip. I gasp as the pleasure spreads across my body. My face fills with red hair as the other woman moves in for her turn. She flings her arms around my head and squeezes lightly as she swirls her tongue inside my mouth. 

At the same time I feel two pairs of mouths on my cock, one on the tip while the other caresses my balls. It's so wrong but it feels so very good. The redhead breaks the kiss to hold my head in her arms. She grins widely, breathing in my gasps and moans. "Do you like this baby?" she chimes.

"Please... stop," I rasp. 

Her lips purse and her head tilts lightly. She smiles again. "Nah," she says, face reaching out to take mine in hers once again. I feel her breasts brushing against my chest only lightly, the sensation drowned out by the roaring warmth spreading from two pairs of attentive mouths taking turns sucking on my cock and working my balls. My body is writhing and tingling and, and tensing... the warmth and pleasure and shear electricity plows through my body as I explode inside an eager mouth. "Gahh," I roar as I manage to break the kiss, my whole body spasming with the orgasm. 

It lasts an eternity and then it stops. My breathing comes in ragged pants.

And then Selene is in front of me, fingers touching lightly at my chest. "You taste pretty good for a cop," she says. "Want to see?" She bends forward and takes my mouth in hers. But suddenly, she can no longer just force my mouth open. I push back with my neck, trying to get her off me. Suddenly the numbness starts to ebb and I pull, hard, against the cuffs. But to no avail, the solid metal frame doesn't give.

"Looks like his strength came back fast. Ariah?"

"Hmm," the redhead says. "Probably a mix of a fast metabolism and the fucking burning it through his system. What now?"

I strain at the frame once again, hard as I can but the cuffs are digging deep into my wrists and the frame refuses to budge. "Let me the fuck go!" I spit.

Selene grins again. "But we're not done with our toy yet! Tell you what; I think you may have earned a break. Ladies?"

Jane and Ariah slink off the bed. Selene follows right behind. The two naked women move in on the clothed one. Jane and Selene's mouths meet and Ariah lifts up Selene's tank top to begin kissing her flat stomach. 

I want to look away as they slowly peel off Selene's tank top and pull her pants down and off a pair of toned legs. Finally her bra and panties are pulled off and there are three beautiful, naked women fondling and kissing and moaning against one another for long, lurid moments. 

I've been staring for minutes. Time barely exists. 

Their hands cup asses and breasts and tease at clits. They moan. And I harden. I strain. And I find myself yearning despite my best efforts. But there they are. And there they smell and moan. 

After more long moments Ariah turns her head away while the other women suck at her nipples and finger her pussy. Her wild, lusting eyes find mine. "I think he's ready," she gasps. After a few more seconds the other women stop playing with her body and turn their attention back to me. 

"Oh yes," coos Jane. Together the three glide towards me, breasts bouncing in the unencumbered air. They stalk up onto the sheets, hands reaching out to my legs, and my chest, and my straining cock. I try to pull my legs to my chest but they pin them down. I don't fight very hard.

"Who gets him?" Ariah asks. 

"Selene?" Jane says. 

But Selene shakes her head. "I already had his cock in my mouth. I think it's only fair Ariah takes him."

Ariah climbs on top of me, grinning. "If you say so," she purrs. Her hand glides behind her and caresses my balls. I start slightly. She grins wider. "This is going to be fun," she says as she grabs my shaft and maneuvers my tip to the lips of her pussy. She teases me against herself for a moment before sliding down, engulfing my cock in her pussy. We both gasp audibly as she starts to work herself up and down my cock, up and down as her breasts bounce against my chest. The other women come up to my side, massaging my chest and abs as they take turns sucking on my nipples and trying to kiss me. 

I moan lightly even as I try to pivot side to side to avoid their lips. But I don't have much will. Finally they hold my head still together, lips working at my mouth and finally I stop resting. They taste sweet, the sensation of their lips and breasts and breathe blending together as Ariah bounces harder and faster up and down my cock. Up and down up and down. 

I'm building again but trying to fight it. "No," I rasp. "No."

"Yes love," Selene says. "Cum for us. That's it, don't fight, cum for us." Ariah is riding me and the other woman are kissing and fondling me. "Cum for me lover," Selene says again. And I do. Harder this time, my cock explodes in a shower of fireworks across my body. I roar. Ariah squeals, continuing to ride me through the crashing waves of bliss and heat and pleasure. 

I barely even notice as they climb off my exhausted frame and go down on one another, their moans and screams teasing at the outer edges of my exhaustion. Somewhere in there I notice another mouthful of dust breathed into my face. My eyes flutter shut and darkness overtakes me.

When I wake up I'm alone. The fog on my mind slowly, agonizingly fades. My body tingles as I start to take in my state. My pants are back on and I'm leaning back in my car, exactly where I'd parked it. The gun is gone from my holster but everything else is back in its place. Fuck.