8 comments/ 22982 views/ 12 favorites The Murdered Football Player Ch. 01 By: WifeWatchman The order of my stories to read is: Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, Case of the Executed Evangelist series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10. The Murdered Football Player, Ch. 01 Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas. This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, nor cults, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above. Part 1 - The Party The gentle slurps and smacks of their deep, tongue-twining kiss could be heard in the small room, an office fixed up to be a makeshift bedroom. The drop-dead beautiful woman was in her late thirties. Her hair was naturally auburn, but she applied coloring to make it a lighter shade of red. She was barely 5'2" in height, and wore very high heels, the only clothing that would be left on her smoking hot body when her young lover was through undressing her as they kissed hotly. Her body was in fantastic shape, toned and muscular like an athlete or a dancer. Her legs were sensational, slim thighs, shapely calves tapering to slender ankles and elegant, sexy feet. Her hands were also exquisite, and the diamond of her engagement ring sparkled as the gold of her wedding band shone lustrously. Her breasts were large, accented by 'artificial means'. The young man with her was a University football player. His name was Jefferson Davis Jackson, "Jeff" for short. He was 6'4" tall with light brown hair. His body looked as if it were chiseled out of rock, toned by brutal workouts, football practices, and performance-enhancing drugs. His balls were large and his penis was huge; he wondered how the smallish woman was able to take his full length every time he sank it into her. "Mmmm, baby, why don't you drink this champagne down while I sit on the bed and suck your big cock, okay?" the woman said, handing the handsome stud a full glass of bubbly while sitting her melt-in-your-mouth, heart-shaped ass onto the edge of the bed and sliding her full, pouty lips over his throbbing weapon of lust. The boy enjoyed the sight of his large white cock fucking the woman's gorgeous face, her full lips stretching to accommodate his girth, her large eyes looking up at him submissively as she deep-throated him with ease. She was one of the most beautiful of the trophy wives that the rich alumni brought to these parties for the players to fuck, and the boy intended to take plenty of pleasure from her. "Ohhhhhhh... Janet, you give the best god-damn head I have ever had, baby." he said between long swigs of champagne. "Aww, thank you, Jeff. I love sucking your cock. It's so big and thick." Janet replied, smiling sweetly up at her young stud before licking up and down his veiny cockshaft and sucking on his big, low-hanging balls. She absolutely loved fucking these young college boys, and this was her second lover this evening. He was one of her absolute favorites, and she couldn't wait to get him inside her and feel him deeply fucking her. "Is that good champagne?" she asked. She stood up, took the container and poured him another full glass. "Drink up, baby, and then you can fuck me." Jeff watched as the gorgeous woman laid back on the bed, barely more than one of those steel dorm beds with a mattress on it, brought in specially for this evening and these events. He quaffed his drink, then joined the woman on the bed, pushing her legs up and back and hooking them over his rock-hard, muscular arms. Janet reached down and grabbed something else of his that was rock hard, and guided his big, ready penis to the gaping slit of her swollen vagina. "Oh God!" she gasped as the boy drove his ass forward and sank his long, thick meat balls deep into her sopping wet cunt. "Jeez, baby, your cunt is so fucking wet!" the boy gasped. "That must have been one big load he shot up into you!" "Oh yeah, baby, it was." Janet said. "I know how much you like sloppy seconds, and fucking a nasty, well-filled pussy!" "Yeah baby, you know I like that." the boy said as he began pistoning in and out of the married woman's cum-filled pussy with hard, driving strokes. He didn't mind at all that he was getting some sloppy seconds; that, and the lube she'd applied, made her pussy wet and slick for his thick length, and he was able to fuck her easily. The rutting couple lustily mated for several long minutes, with the woman's high-heeled feet resting on his broad upper arms. The boy often liked to suck her toes and heels, but in this case he just wanted to fuck her and work out the large nut that had been building inside him for a couple of days. He had not had sex nor come in four days, since fucking that beautiful co-ed, practically date-raping her, though she had been leading him on. What was that girl's name, Candy? he thought to himself. It made him even hotter to know that she was the girlfriend of some geeky guy, in fact the guy who was the waiter serving drinks here at this party. He loved fucking other guys' women, enjoying their helplessness as he exerted his male dominance and power. "Oh God, Jeff!" Janet gasped as she writhed hotly beneath the boy. "You really have one hell of a fantasy going tonight, dontcha? You are really fucking the Jesus shit out of me!" "It's because you're so fucking beautiful and hot, baby." he said smoothly. "And you're hot wet pussy is about to make me come." 
 "Oh yeah, baby, do it. Come inside me, baby." Janet invited, realizing that the stud was about to climb her all the way and get his nut inside her. "Oh yeah, here it comes, baby!" Jeff gasped. Dizziness overwhelmed him as pulse after pulse of his rod shot wad after wad of thick, ropy jism into Janet's hot, clenching cunt, mixing with her previous young lover's sperm in a potent baby-making mix. The boy gasped, trying to catch his breath as his mind fogged. His hands clutched at the woman, his fingernails digging into her soft, supple skin. "Oh honey, that was good, the best ever." the woman gasped as the boy collapsed his full weight down onto her. She endured it, catching her breath for a few seconds, before saying "Okay honey, lift up a little bit." Jeff didn't move. Janet was a strong woman, but as she pushed up hard she was only able to get the heavy, muscular young man to roll off to the side. With no room on the little bed, he fell onto his back onto the floor. Looking down at his open, glazed eyes, the woman was shocked to see that he wasn't moving nor breathing. "Hey, are you all right?" she said, reaching down and shaking him. No response. As she realized what was happening, she began to panic. Feeling for a pulse and finding none, she screamed for help... ------------------------- The Country Club was not like the Heritage Cloisters Club; this was a simple building with a meeting area, like a Kiwanis Clubhouse, and some smaller rooms down one side, which tonight were being used as bedrooms by the Alumni's wives to sexually service the football players. Outside was a pool and area for grilling food with picnic tables and canopies. The semi-public golf course, which could not be seen in the darkness, stretched behind the clubhouse. Due to agricultural chemicals draining into the big creek, or small river, that wound through the course and was used to irrigate it, the course was one of the finest in the State. The party was being attended by 20 influential University alumni, six wives, and 14 football players. Of course no coaches or other University officials were at this most "unofficial" of events. Tom Riordan, whose wife Janet was vigorously copulating with Jeff Jackson, approached the younger University alumnus. "Hi Phillip." he said. "This is your first 'private' alumni-player party, isn't it?" "Yes, sir, it is." Phillip said. He'd made a fortune in a computer programming company when he'd sold out to a much bigger competitor, and he'd made his first large contribution to the school just a couple of months before. "Great, and please, call me Tom. We're all equals here; we're not the really bigshot donors like Henry Wargrave or J.P. Goldman." Tom said. "Did you bring the hundreds like I asked you to?" "Yes, two thousand dollars." Phillip said. "Good, me too." Tom said. "Three kids are finishing up fucking our wives, we're just waiting for them now. Once they're done, we're going to finish the evening off." "What will we do?" Phillip asked naively. Tom spoke as if making a military action report, but softening his voice: "Everyone will say their goodbyes, then we're going to send the all the players inside the clubhouse and close the door. Then we alumni are going to throw the green dollar bills into the swimming pool, and then leave. Only the players will be here, and after we all leave they can come out and get the money out of the pool. They'll probably make their freshmen jump in the pool and retrieve the bills, then they evenly split the money." "Wow, you don't have a problem with your wife having sex with the players?" Phillip asked, unable to get over the shock of what this party was about, not even yet comprehending about the verboten money payments. "Are you kidding?" Tom said. "My wife Janet absolutely loves these events, she can't wait for the next one to come around. And the other wives that are here, they are here to get fucked by these athletes, it's their joy in life, and the boys love fucking them. What college-age guy wouldn't love to fuck the shit out of a hot trophy wife like Janet or those other women?" "And the husbands are good with it also." Tom continued. "Janet and I are swingers, and some of the other couples have open marriages. Phillip, you'd be surprised how many couples in our County are swinging and swapping." "Wow." said Phillip. "I guess I've got a lot to learn about things." Tom guffawed. "Oh yes, and just wait until you're invited to one of University President Wellman's 'private' parties. His wife is the hottest-- oh, what's the matter dear?" Janet Riordan was at the entrance to the clubhouse, furiously waving to get her husband's attention. "Tom, come here, quickly!" she said, trying to keep her voice low. "What is it dear? And why aren't you dressed?" Tom asked innocently. "WOULD YOU COME HERE, GOD DAMN YOU??!?!" Janet screamed, near hysteria, her face red and furious with anger as well as panic. Almost everyone looked over at her. "Dammit, Janet, what the hell do you want?" Tom said, angry at being spoken to by his wife that way, and especially in public. He was walking toward the door when Janet stepped outside, naked and only covered in the front by the towel she was holding to her breasts, grabbed his arm and began violently pulling him into the clubhouse. "Jesus Christ, bitch, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Tom Riordan said angrily. "God dammit Tom, you are such a fucking ass! Jeff is dead!" Janet yelled, trying to pull Tom to the back rooms. "He collapsed and he's not breathing! Would you fucking COME ON, Dickhead?!?!?" Tom Riordan gasped as he heard the words. He turned to Phillip, who had followed him into the clubhouse main room, and said "Get Dr. Keene to come in here. Keep everyone else out, especially the players." Tom continued following Janet into her room. Jeff Jackson was lying on the floor on his back, his eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. Phillip and Dr. Keene quickly arrived. The doctor knelt by the body and checked for a pulse, then maneuvered the athlete's head up and back and checked for breathing. He then checked the kid's eyes before turning back to the door, where several alumni had gathered, including the other wives that had heard the commotion. "He's dead." Part 2 - The Crime Scene At four o'clock in the morning I got the phone call. It was Tanya Perlman. "We've got a dead body on County Road 2. Naked young man, maybe a college kid." she reported. "Crime Lab is on the way." "I'll be right there." I said. I hustled to get dressed, putting on a regular shirt, "heavy" work slacks, and my "heavy shoes", which weren't quite boots but were good for walking around in the outdoors and around outdoor crime scenes. It was early Saturday morning near the end of August. The University would be coming back into session in a week. The dorms were opening Monday morning and students would be coming in. The first football game of the season was an away game this year, but was one week from today, next Saturday. The Town was bracing for the onrush of tens of thousands of students, and it always amazed me how the Town seemed to open up and flourish like a budding flower in the Spring. I was a relative newcomer, still not used to the shock of the transition. County Road 2 ran east-west just inside the County's southern border. Coltrane County was to the south on the way towards Midtown and the central part of the State. The road was little more than a farm road, barely adequately paved and very rarely used by anyone or anything except local farmers and their vehicles and equipment. I think I might have driven on it one time before. Coltrane County to our south was very rural and agricultural and had only three items of interest. The first was Lake Ocheekobee Golf and Country Club, which sported an excellent golf course. The second was a piece of property on the River that ran from our County, a property which was owned and occupied by a group known as "The Vision." They called themselves a "self-help" organization, and had seminars all over the country, complete with fire walks. But the headquarters of "The Vision" in Coltrane County was like a fortress, surrounded with fences and armed security, and some said that it was actually some kind of cult. The third was that the State Hospital for Mental Diseases, a very nice name for the State Insane Asylum, was in Coltrane County, more on the northeastern side and nearer Nextdoor County than ours. "The Asylum", as we called it, was where seriously ill mental patients were taken, and one side of it was the prison for persons in the State found "guilty but insane." It was a forbidding place, a hospital that no one of sound mind ever wanted to see. None of that mattered to me at the moment as I headed down the main South Road, out of Town and through the small hamlet of Junction Station. As I neared the county line I turned left on to County Road 2. About three miles later I came upon the flashing lights of the police cars and EMS ambulance. Detectives Martin Nash and Diana Torres were at the scene, as well as Tanya Perlman, her Crime Lab team, two EMTs and three uniformed officers. One was Pete Feeley, one was the rookie Patrolman Johnson, and the third was Patrolman Hicks. "My goodness, it's a Detective convention. Martin, Diana." I said in greeting as I walked up, the meaning of my words being that it was unusual to have three Detectives on the scene (besides myself), and so quickly. "Whaddya got, Perlman?" "And good morning to you too, Lieutenant." Tanya said. "This is a strange one, right up your alley." A dirt farm road going north-south crossed County Road 2 just a few meters down from where we were. The County Line was literally three feet south of County Road 2, so the southbound dirt road immediately went into Coltrane County, and the northbound road went towards the farmhouses of this land's owners, about a mile away and slightly uphill of us. There was an irrigation ditch that paralleled the dirt road, to the left (west) side. It became a culvert, a wider and deeper hole, right near the road. Peering into the hole, I saw by the klieg lights set up to illuminate it that a body of a young man was lying on his left side. He was white, naked, and I could not see any blood. I did notice that his penis was elongated and large. "Lieutenant, why are all of your crime victims dying while having sex?" Tanya Perlman asked me, obviously messing with me. "I see it, Perlman." I replied, needling her back. "And it seeeeeems to be par-for-the-course for your County, which I've come to know and love. What did your lab people find?" "Very little, so far." Tanya said. "No marks on him. Patrolmen Hicks and Johnson were the first here, and Hicks went down to check the body to see if he was alive or dead while Johnson looked around for tire prints, footprints and clothing. He secured off the southbound dirt road because there are tire prints there, but that's all we found." "Patrolman Johnson," I said. "Did you go into Coltrane County?" "I might have shined my light into it, but didn't go very far." Patrolman Johnson said. As I looked down the road I could see his footprints at the edge going as far as my light could see. "I made sure no tracks were where I stepped." Johnson said. "Good job, Johnson." I said, walking back towards the crime scene where the body was. "Nothing around the culvert here?" "No sir." Johnson said. "Nothing discernible that I could make out. Hicks also tried to look before he stepped when he went down into the culvert." "I didn't see anything, sir." said Hicks. "I tried to be careful, but I thought I had to check to make sure the guy wasn't alive." "You absolutely did the right thing. Both of you. Good job." I said. "Okay, Tanya, if the Crime Lab is done, let's get the guy out of there so you can examine him up here." The process was laborious, and with everyone including myself helping, we managed to get the 240 pounds of dead young man out of the ditch. "Not a mark anywhere, Lieutenant." one of the EMTs said. I noted by his rank that he was a full Paramedic, the EMS's equivalent of a sergeant rank in the Police Force. Of course they had to be qualified by education and certifications as well as time and grade in the EMS service. "Any idea what killed him, Paramedic?" I asked. "No sir." he said. "I see some bruises here and there on his arms and legs, but they don't look fresh, nor do they look all that harmful to his life." An insight occurred to me. "You know, I wonder if he's a football player." I said. "That would explain him having some bruises, as well as his athletic muscular development. The University football team has just broken their summer camp and the season starts next weekend. Martin, that might be a shortcut to identifying him: check with the University Police when we get back to Town and have them ascertain if there are any missing University athletes." "Yes sir." Martin Nash said. He took a photograph of the dead man with his cellphone and transmitted it to Headquarters with a message to begin attempting to identify the body. Ah, the wonders of modern technology. Speaking of which, I used my own cellphone to make a phone call to Britt Maxwell of the University Police, rousing her out of bed and asking her to come to the scene with her SBI Reserve badge in her possession. Tanya Perlman was in the ditch, which was much taller than she was. I carefully made my way down into the ditch and began looking for clues. "Not a damn thing." Tanya said. "No blood, no scraps of cloth..." "That's curious." I said, looking at the indentation where the young man had impacted the soft soil. I pointed to it. "He landed exactly as we found him. No movement, no scratching at the dirt, no attempt to get up. That means that he was already dead when he was thrown into this ditch. Oh, and that reminds me..." I climbed out of the culvert as Pete Feeley helped Tanya to get back topside. It was still dark but the first glimmers of dawn were appearing in the eastern sky. The Murdered Football Player Ch. 01 "Everyone, just how did the Police learn about the existence of this body in the ditch?" I asked loudly. "I can answer that." a voice called out. It was Mr. Colburn, who was the owner of the farm to the north. He had been standing by the ambulance, watching us. "I saw some lights when I came out of my house up there. I got my binoculars to see what was going on, and I saw car lights and flashlights. I thought it was kids messing around or possibly a drug deal going down, so I called the police. I came down after the first police car came up, to tell them what I saw." "I appreciate that, sir." I said. "Hicks, Johnson, see anything?" "No sir." said Hicks. "We were lucky to stumble onto the body. We parked here at the intersection and started looking around, and I just happened to shine my light down into the culvert, and the flash of white skin caught my eye." "Yes." I said. "Lucky. Very lucky to come across that. Mr. Colburn, I appreciate your help, and you can head home now, if you don't mind. Paramedics, would you go ahead and take the body to the police morgue? Ask them to get fingerprints and start trying to find the body immediately, and report their findings to Detective Nash, who is now in charge of the case, whether he realizes it or not." I looked towards Martin, who did not allow his facial expression to change as he nodded acknowledgment of my assignment. "Tanya, did your crime lab team get the tire prints off the dirt road?" I asked. "They're doing it now." she said. I looked over where a woman was laying out the plaster to get the tire impression; she had already taken pictures in infrared as well as visible light. Ah, technology... Just then a car pulled up. It was Britt Maxwell. "Torres, keep working with Nash; this'll be excellent practical experience for you." I said as Britt approached us. "And now I want you all to look the other way while Captain Maxwell and I take a little stroll into Coltrane County." As Britt and I started down the road, I heard Tanya behind me say "Congratulations, Martin! That's a big deal, getting assigned a case like this..." Part 3 - The First Roadblocks As we walked down the dirt road, I filled Britt in on the situation, ending with "I wanted you to come with me because we're State-level, and if the Coltrane County Sheriff Department comes up to see what we're doing, we'll need to have our SBI badges." "They'll still be pissed." Britt said. "They hate our guts, or I should say your guts, meaning the Town & County Police." "Why is that?" I said as I examined tire tracks along the road. "They're small, rural, ten thousand people in their county, tops." Britt replied. "They don't have the resources we do..." she paused, then added to tease me, "... and they don't have the Iron Crowbar." "They have me right now." I said. "Keep watch in that irrigation ditch." "What are we looking for?" she asked. "The dead man's clothes." I replied. We had walked about half a mile, I turned and looked back: the blue lights of our own police cars were barely visible in the distance. I could actually see the road without my flashlight, as the breaking dawn was gathering strength. I stopped, seeing a lot of tire tracks, some in circular patterns, only one set heading north. I also saw a lot of footprints leading to the ditch. As I looked up, I heard Britt call out "Here's something!" In the ditch was a red golf/polo shirt, white khaki short pants and tennis shoes. Very casual wear. I quickly looked around for marks and saw some light footprints. I also saw indentations to the side of the wadded clothing in the ditch, which was wet and muddy. "Britt, who can we call in to come examine and bag these clothes without getting the SBI all involved?" I asked as I descended into the ditch to look at the clothes. I noticed that the clothing was not deeply stained, meaning that they had not been on the body, but thrown separately into the ditch. I also noticed that the deep indentation next to the clothes looked as if a body had been thrown there. There were boot marks around the indentation, as well, though the prints were only partial. "Maybe call in some Campus Police guys." Britt said. "But except for me, they'd be out of jurisdiction here, also." "Oh shit." I said as I saw headlights of cars approaching from the South. "Here they come. Not much time." I quickly took pictures and examined the clothing. There was no identification, no wallet. I made it out of the ditch just as two Coltrane County sheriff vehicles pulled up. On seeing us, they turned on their blue lights and shined strong light into our faces. "And just who might you be?" the Sheriff said, getting out of the first car. He was a bit overweight but not all that much, and his mustache had gray flecking. I knew that from previously meeting him, though; I couldn't really see more than his silhouette right now. A deputy got out of the first car, also. He was young, clean shaven, just a bit too fresh-faced, but I knew he was no green rookie. Two other deputies got out of the second car but stayed behind the opened doors, in combat preparatory stances. "We're SBI, Sheriff." I said in my most commanding voice. Britt and I held up our SBI badges with our left hands, keeping our right hands free if we had to draw guns. With Coltrane County Law Enforcement, one was best advised to be prepared for anything. The Sheriff and Deputy took their hands off their holstered guns but the other two behind them did not relax their stances nor come out from behind their car doors. "We're investigating a murder that took place up the road, just across the County line. It looks like these are the dead man's clothes." I said. "Is that right?" the Sheriff said laconically. "And you did not have the courtesy to call me before coming into my county, eh?" "We just found the body, didn't even have time to call you." I said. "Sheriff, do you mind if we have a closer look at those clothes?" Britt asked. "Why yes, I do mind." said the Sheriff, his voice a whisper but with a foreboding menace behind it. "Deputy Strait, call in for our own forensics team to come out at eight o'clock." Deputy Strait went to the car and got on the radio. "Come on, Sheriff, you know time is of the essence--" Britt started, but I tapped her shoulder to hush her up. The Sheriff had squared up, a feigned look of indignation on his face. "You fucking bitch, you don't tell me to 'come on' in my county, do you fucking understand me? I just said that MY people will examine this evidence, and I'll do it on my own goddamned time, you hear me, bitch?" he said, his voice a harsh rasp. He went over and looked in the ditch as the morning light grew stronger. I noticed him looking over the ground. "Sheriff, is there any reason why you would not want to help us solve a murder? I asked. "You think you State people can just walk into my county without telling me and do whatever the goddamn hell you please? Huh?" I noticed that the Sheriff was pacing in a way to deliberately trample over the footprints on the road, totally destroying them as evidence. "Don't answer him, Captain." I said. "Let's get out of here." I turned and began walking back up the road, north to home. Thankfully, Britt came right along with me. "Hey! Did I say you could fucking leave?" the Sheriff roared. I stopped and looked back, my hand hovering over my gun. "What are you going to do, Sheriff? Shoot us in the back?" I asked, my voice cold and confrontational. "I goddamn well might." the Sheriff said, his hand going for his gun. "Before you do something stupid," I said, my voice stopping him, "you better understand that there are several cars of police just over the county line. They will hear the shots and come right on in here to find out what the shots were about. And if they find us dead they'll blow your asses away without bothering to say a word. They'll chase you into town and kill you in front of everyone that might be there watching. It's your call, Sheriff, if you want to die today." After a long second of silence, pregnant with tension, I said "C'mon, Captain, let's go." We turned and began walking north again. The Sheriff did not try to stop us, but I knew they were following in their cars at a distance. We made it back to our side of the county line, where the forensics teams were wrapping up, mostly taking photographs of markings as the light got better. To everyone's shock, the Coltrane County Sheriff had his three deputies stand side-by-side in a row, three feet inside the county line on his side, holding shotguns at "port arms". The Sheriff stood by them with his arms crossed. "Make damn sure you don't cross the County line, shitheads." the Sheriff said when we looked over at them. My guys looked over at me with "What the hell?" looks. I went to my SUV and placed a cellphone call to Hugh Hewitt, telling him to assemble four of his "better trained" guys, meaning the new officers we were going to make into a SWAT team as soon as the politicians let us. I told him to have them come wearing "heavy gear", meaning full bulletproof riot gear, and to bring loaded shotguns. They got there within fifteen minutes, and I had them stand off with the Coltrane County deputies, standing on the edge of County Road 2, facing the enemy deputies with my guys' shotguns at "port arms". I gave my guys orders, well within the hearing of everyone, that if the Coltrane County deputies even pointed their guns across the county line, that our guys were to blow them away, to kill them without a second thought nor the least compunction. "My guys are wearing bulletproof gear, Sheriff." I said. "Yours are looking mighty puny in their bare shirts. And by the way, Sheriff... your lack of cooperation will be made known to the SBI and the FBI as well. I think a State audit of every aspect of your County, from the Water Works to the dogcatcher records, is in order, whaddya say?" "Go fuck yourself, Mr. Iron Crowbar... yeah, I know who the fuck you are." the Sheriff said. "And bring your auditors on, they won't find jack shit wrong in my county. They know better." The Sheriff did not remove his deputies until the last of my team had packed up and left for home. Part 4 - It's In The Bag I was in the MCD room by 7:00am, drinking a delicious and nutritious Carnation chocolate milkshake and watching the morning news. No way I'd miss a day without seeing the lovely Bettina! "This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" said the lovely redhead reporter, standing on County Road 2 not far from where the crime scene was. "Channel Two News has learned that a dead body was found in a culvert just down the road from our position here. The victim is described as a young white male. He was found without any clothes, and he had no ID on him. Police say that there was no blood or signs of violence, but that foul play has not yet been ruled out at this early stage of the investigation..." The rest of Bettina's report was inconsequential, but my attention was arrested by something else Bettina said: "Let's go straight to the national desk and Priya Ajmani, with an update on the drug shootout in Miami!" "Thank you, Bettina!" said the gorgeous Indian woman. "This is Priya Ajmani, KXTC Channel Two News! The FBI has updated us on the shootout in Miami a couple of weeks ago that left six people dead and two seriously wounded. One of those killed was a junior diplomat from the Venezuelan delegation, who was attending the OAS diplomatic conference. The Venezuelan Government has accused the United States of lax security, but the State Department has reiterated that the diplomat had left the security zones around the hotel and conference center, and was associating at two o'clock in the morning with well-known drug runners. A quantity of drugs as well as guns and other weapons was found at the scene. It appears that there was a falling out between the gangs making the deal, and in the exchange of gunfire the Venezuelan diplomat was shot a total of eight times..." As I wondered to myself if the Miami Police would bother checking the calibers of the bullets that struck the sleazebag Venezuelan diplomat, I saw the Chief walk down the hall and into his office. I followed him to report on the situation here at home, making sure to bring along a cup of coffee for him. "So you lined up four of our guys right up against theirs, eh?" the Chief said after I'd finished my report, smiling as he sat down and drank his coffee. "Shit, their sheriff down there is a real idiot and a dickhead, too. He's on the take, dirty as hell. You're lucky that he didn't shoot you in the back when you walked away from him. So you watched him stepping on footprint evidence on purpose, eh?" "Yes sir," I said, "and I don't know how we're going to get those clothes now." "Well," the Chief said, "we may can simply formally request the evidence from their evidence team, but their guys aren't Detective Perlman or her team. They're so bad that it'll be useless, you won't find anything but their contamination." "Yeah, I know." I said, frustrated. "And how to investigate that spot without bringing in the SBI, that's what I don't know how to do." "I'll be honest with you, kid," Chief Griswold said, unconsciously calling me 'kid' whenever he had something to teach me, "a case that straddles a county line like this almost has to have the SBI brought in, especially when dealing with a piece of shit like that bozo in Coltrane County." "So who can we bring in that we can halfway trust?" I asked. "Ted Crenshaw? Carter Fischer?" "I'd say Ted Orosco if he wasn't in Midtown." the Chief said, "but I'll tell you what, let me work up through some channels to see what I can do about it." -------------------------- At 9:00am, Martin Nash came into the Chief's office with me to give his first report. "First of all, the M.E. found skin under the victim's fingernails, and some bodily fluids from around and just inside the tip of his penis." Martin Nash said. "Tanya-- Detective Perlman is very excited about the possibility of DNA evidence of the woman she believes he was having sex with when he died." "That's good news." I said. "Any idea of who he is?" "Not yet. Fingerprints turned up negative." Nash said. "Not surprising: he's young, probably hasn't been arrested or anything like that. No missing persons reports have been filed with us, the University Police or the State for this area, nor the FBI. I've talked with Captain Maxwell, and she's got her people working to see if the guy comes up as a University student." "Did you contact the Athletic Department?" I asked. "I placed a call, but there's no one there nor in the coaches' offices. Captain Maxwell said she'd handle contacting them from this point on." "Any ideas about what happened, Crowbar?" the Chief asked. "No sir." I said. "I'm eagerly awaiting the toxicology report. Detective Perlman said she'd try to have a preliminary report by noon. Alcohol poisoning, drugs, something party-related is my first thought. Martin, any ideas?" "Totally agree with you." Martin Nash said. "I think identifying the guy is going to be the toughest part. Once we have that, we'll find out if he overdosed at a party or something." "So why dump the body in a ditch on County Road 2?" the Chief asked astutely. "More than that, Chief..." I said. "Why was the body moved into our County after being dumped in Coltrane County?" "What?" said the Chief. Martin Nash peered at me also. "The body was dumped in the ditch in Coltrane County and the victim's clothes thrown in the ditch with him." I said. "I believe someone then moved the body into our County, leaving the clothes behind. There were a ton of tracks leading up the dirt road to the spot the clothes were found... but only one set of tracks coming on up across the County line." "Why in the fuck would someone want to do that?" the Chief said. I shrugged. "No idea yet." --------------------------------- At noon the Chief called me into his office. "I have Deputy Strait of Coltrane County on the line." he said. "He's on speaker. Go ahead, Deputy Strait!" "Chief, I was wondering if you could send your Lieutenant Crowbar guy down to our town of Buford?" said Deputy Strait. "And why?" asked the Chief. "We'd like his help to investigate a serious incident. Our sheriff was found dead in the seat of his car a few minutes ago." ---------------------------- I had Cindy Ross and Hugh Hewitt come with me, both wearing their heavier bulletproof vests, as my bodyguards. I also wore my light body armor under my uniform shirt. I was carrying my blue crowbar while Cindy had a police baton and Hugh kept his hands free and ready to employ his holstered guns. "Sheriff Strait," I said, giving the deputy the title as if he were in charge now, "what happened here?" I was looking at the body of the Sheriff, sitting in the driver seat of his car as if he were ready to pull out of the parking lot. He was wearing his sunglasses and had his seat belt on. "First, Lieutenant," said Strait, very wisely, "I want to tell you how sorry I am about what happened this morning. We deputies were just following orders." "I'm sure." I said. "I hope that you or whoever the next sheriff is won't be such an asshole." "Yessir, I agree with you." Strait said. He reminded me of Officer Pete Feeley: young, eager to please, maybe too much so, and desiring to be something he was not ready to be. "Who found him?" I asked. "I did." said Strait. "What did he do and where did he go from the time you guys left the county line this morning until you found the body?" I asked. "We came back here, and he was in his office all morning." Strait said. "I know he called our State Representative and State Senator to complain about you, and then he closed the door and made a lot more calls, but I don't know who to. Then he said he was going to go out, didn't say where, and went to his car. I looked out a few minutes later and he was still sitting there, so I went to see if he needed anything." I had my magnifying glass out as Strait talked. It was rectangular instead of circular. I examined the dead Sheriff's neck at the collar-line of his shirt, and saw what I expected to see. "Strait, take a look at this." I said. Strait looked with the magnifying glass. "See that tiny red speck on his neck, here on the back left side just at the shirt collar line? I think that's where a syringe needle was stuck into his neck, and he was injected with something. You guys!" I said, pointing to the other deputies. "Come look at this. Ross, Hewitt, you take a look too." As everyone took turns examining the tiny red dot with the glass, I said "Sheriff Strait, I'd suggest that you tell your medical examiner to do a full toxicology workup on the body. Better yet, you may want to call in the SBI or FBI and ask them to assist with the forensics." "Yessir, but what happened?" Strait asked. "I think when your Sheriff got into the car, someone very quickly came up to him, put a gun to his temple and told him not to move, then injected him with the drug. It's fast acting, and the perp may have stayed a few seconds holding the Sheriff at gunpoint before running away. I'd suggest you have your guys canvas the area and see if any unusual persons were seen in the parking lot or at the car window when the Sheriff got in." "Could the perp have been in the car, waiting for him?" Cindy asked. "Maybe," I said, "but you'd think the perp would then have the Sheriff drive off a ways before injecting him. Also, there is a plexiglass shield between the front and back seats, so if the Sheriff was injected through the window in the middle of the plexiglass, I'd expect the injection to take place on the right side of the neck instead of where it is at on the left side." The Murdered Football Player Ch. 01 Everyone nodded agreement. "So, Strait," I said. "What happened to the clothes in the ditch from this morning?" "The Sheriff bagged them and put them in the trunk of the car." Strait said. "Did he take the evidence into the station?" I asked. "Uh..." Strait said. "No." said one of the other deputies. "When we got back he started barking orders for us to do things. I forgot about the clothes, but now that you mention it, so did he. He never came back and got the clothes, either." The other deputies all agreed. "So, let's open the trunk and see if the clothes are still there." I said. "Where are the keys?" "Uh, if they're not in the car with the sheriff..." Strait said. The keys were not in the ignition nor in the dead Sheriff's hand or pocket. "Well, if you guys don't mind," I said, "I'll just try this key." I quickly and deftly snapped open the trunk of the car with my crowbar. The bag was there, but it was empty. The clothes were gone. Unprintable curses flooded through my mind, though I remained outwardly silent. "Okay, Strait." I said. "There's not much more here for me to look at." "Thanks for coming, in spite of this morning." said Strait. "Well... hopefully our counties won't have issues like that again." I said. "See if you can find those clothes, and let me know if you do." Just then my cellphone rang. It was Detective Martin Nash. "We've got a positive ID on the guy." he reported. I did not speak the entire drive back to Town. Hugh drove and Cindy sat in the backseat while I rode shotgun, totally lost in deep thought. Once at the Station and alone in the parking lot, I got on my cellphone to Tanya Perlman. "Tanya, have Christina Cho do her magic and take triple samples of all evidence, especially for toxicology." I said. "Send one set to the University's Crime Lab immediately for confirmation workup. Classify and secure the third set-- stop asking why, I'll tell you later..." ---------------------------- I entered the Chief's conference room just as Nash was telling the Chief and Captain Harold Malone the details. "The guy's name is Jeff Jackson." Nash said. "He's--" "Is that Jefferson Davis Jackson?" Captain Malone asked, interrupting. "Yes sir, that's his full name." said Nash. Malone groaned. "Jesus... I know his parents very well." Malone said, shaking his head sadly. "Chief, I'll call them myself and tell them." "Sure thing." said the Chief. "Nash, tell me about him." "Football player, 20 years old, redshirt Sophomore but the starting tight end for the team." Nash said. "How was he identified?" asked the Chief. "Didn't take fifteen minutes for students on campus to recognize him, then the Campus Police ran the name through the DMV." Nash said. "Definitely our guy." "Good work, and give the Campus Police our thanks." the Chief said. "Malone, go call the parents, they'll have to identify the body at the morgue." Captain Malone left, his mood somber. "So, Crowbar," the Chief said, "what did you find out about the dead Coltrane County sheriff?" "He was injected with a drug, poisoned." I said. "Deputy Strait said he's calling in the SBI; this case is too much for him and his people. Strait appears to be honest, though too young and woefully inexperienced." The Chief nodded. "Any thoughts? Motive? Was that murder related to our dead student?" I looked the Chief hard in the eyes. "Yes sir, I believe it's related. The victim's-- the student's clothes are missing. I think someone killed the Sheriff to get the clothes out of his car. And Chief, they left the evidence bag while taking the clothes. That was an intentional message, perhaps for me." "I'll take your word for that, but only you would notice and see it that way. But why would someone want to take the clothes at all?" "Cleanup. I can tell you this, Chief: This is not some simple death from drinking too much at a party..." Part 5 - More Obstacle Courses At 9:00pm the meeting in the main conference room was convened. Captain Malone, myself, Britt Maxwell, Martin Nash, Diana Torres, Tanya Perlman and Cindy Ross were "invited", meaning expected, to attend by the Chief. "Jeff's parents will be here tomorrow morning." Captain Malone said. "They did not take it well. Lieutenant, I want you to personally conduct their interview. And show them a lot of respect." "Will do." I said, still in thought. "Perlman?" the Chief said brusquely. "Early toxicology shows that he had consumed some alcohol but was not even legally drunk. There are some medications in his system, including Viagra, but nothing illegal so far. Right now this could be anything from some kind of natural causes, such as a heart attack, or some drug reaction to medication. We just don't know enough yet." "That's good work so far, Perlman." the Chief said. "Captain Maxwell, what did you get?" "I interviewed all of the coaching staff." she said. "They said that there were no football team functions scheduled last night, no formal events, no sanctioned parties, no parties that they knew about. There's no curfew on the team this weekend and there wasn't one last night; in that, they're pretty much free to act like any other students on campus. They also all said that they knew of no one who might want to harm Jackson when I asked them, and they were surprised by that question and the idea that it might even be murder. Word has gotten around that he wasn't violently killed." "Interesting." I said. "Tanya, once we get more info, look to see if he had some medical condition. The coaches might have known something but hid it so that the kid could play football. And please don't anyone tell Angela Harlan what I just said about her cousin. I'm not accusing anyone of anything just yet." Tanya nodded and made notes as Britt Maxwell continued: "Speaking of Coach Harlan, he said he'd ask the team if anyone was with Jackson last night, and have them get in touch with me if they could shed any light on the situation. But that was as far as it went. He was reticent to go any further, and when I asked if I could address a team meeting, he got vague and made no promises." "Crowbar, fill everyone in on what happened in Buford today." the Chief said. I did so. "I don't mean this as a reproach." said Captain Malone, meaning it as a reproach, "but would those clothes have been found by the Coltrane County sheriff if you and Cpt. Maxwell had not gone onto their side this morning?" "Yes, they would have been found." I said. "I think we were actually just in time to see the clothes. I suspect the Sheriff was called in by someone to go secure that scene... and that he was expecting to find the body as well as the clothes. The body was dumped there, I saw the indentation where it impacted. Then someone moved the body, but not the clothes, into our County and made enough noise and light that Mr. Coburn saw them." "For me," Martin Nash said, "the question now is 'Where was the crime committed, in other words, where did he die?' If we could find a crime scene, it may go a long way to answering our questions." "Coltrane County." I said, very sure. "It happened in Coltrane County." "How can you tell that?" Cindy Ross asked, ever my foil and challenging me. "Tire tracks." I said. "One set came up the dirt road into our county. They did not return. Multiple cars had come up to where the body was dumped with the clothes in Coltrane County. Most went back in the direction from which they came. One set of tire tracks went north, and there was no return set of tracks nor second set of tracks. "Ergo, I think one car came north after picking up the body from the ditch in Coltrane County, drove over the county line, dumped the body, then drove east on County Road 2 and hooked up with a main road somewhere. The only other alternative would be that someone drove a long way south, or a long way east and south, to get to a point where they could circle back north. Now why the hell would they do that? So I surmise that the crime happened south of the two crime scenes." "Damn, you're good." Britt Maxwell murmured. "Could it have been drunk, scared kids riding around, not knowing what to do?" asked Captain Malone. "Captain, I have reason to believe that this is not just some group of drunk, partying kids, at least not as far as dumping the body. This was the work of some cool and desperate people, and people that have someone else cleaning up behind them." "How can you tell that?" asked Martin Nash. "The death of the Coltrane County Sheriff shows us that." I said. "Let's look at it this way, without going into the weeds on 'whys' and 'wherefores': this kid is with a group of people and dies. They're panicking, not knowing what to do. They decide to dump his body in a ditch on a dirt farm road, then return the way they came That is just panic action, so far." "Along comes a second group in one car, and we can surmise there's at least two persons since they moved a heavy body, and they move the body north into our county. That requires logical thought and intent, with some purpose behind it." "Then the Coltrane County Sheriff is killed, and the clothes are removed from the evidence bag, which is left behind while the clothes were taken. Obviously that is well thought out. Same group of people? Maybe, but I'm inclined to believe the cleanup is being done by someone who is experienced and good at cleaning up messes." I said no more, even though a certain name was glaring in my brain like a neon sign. "Okay, guys," the Chief said. "Now it's time for me to tell you the bad news. As soon as the news came out that this kid was a football player, my telephone exploded like a nuclear bomb. My hand is sore from having to hold that telephone receiver all frickin' day long. One call was from State Senator Nathan Allen, who is a total asshole, saying he got a call from the Coltrane County Sheriff as well as the State Senator for Buford and Coltrane County, both complaining about our guys. When I suggested he re-check with that sheriff-- as that sheriff had just been found dead-- the State Senator dropped the phone and I haven't heard from him since. "Still, this thing is going to get very political, very quickly. Perlman, I know how driven you are and that you do this anyway, but I need you to work your team's asses off overnight to get as much data as you can before even more calls start coming into me tomorrow morning." "Yes sir." Tanya said. "We're on it already." "Okay, if that's it--" the Chief said, starting to get up. "Sir..." Diana Torres said, then faltered before gathering her courage. "I... I know I'm a new Detective, but... why would someone dump a body, then move it and dump it again like that?" "Detective Torres," the Chief said, smiling benignly, "that is why you are in this meeting: to get experience like this. Crowbar, I've been around a lot longer than Miss Torres and I'd love to hear an explanation for that, also." "I only have one guess." I said. "And that is all it is, a pure guess: I think the first group of people that dumped the body, and the clothes, made sure they didn't cross the county line. But then someone else came along and moved the body but not the clothes, and that was on purpose: I think they did so because they wanted the body found in our County, which is the official crime scene, but left the clothes in Coltrane County to show us the body had been there first." "And that means that someone wanted us, the Town & County Police, to be the ones with jurisdiction and working on this case, while some wanted anything but that. And that's yet another reason I agree with the Chief that this thing is gonna get political and just a little bit ugly before all is said and done." "By which time more will have been said than done." said the Chief, one of his favorite quips. "Crowbar, your guesses are as good as most people's facts; I think you're spot-on about that reasoning.
 The Chief continued: "Ladies and gentlemen, you never cease to amaze me with the great work you do. Go home and get some sleep. See you at six o'clock tomorrow morning." --------------------------- "So, Angela, what are the Police saying about my player's death?" Brian Harlan asked his cousin as he poured some wine into her glass.
 "They don't have much data yet." Detective Angela Harlan replied. "They're waiting for the autopsy and toxicology report. They had me working on a drug case with Teresa Cunt... that's her nickname behind her back, she's bitchy but a good detective. "Speaking of good detectives, what about that Lieutenant... Donald--" Coach Harlan asked, perhaps a bit too incisively. "I've been here less than a month," Angela said, "and I can tell you right now that he is far and away the best detective I have ever seen. Every time he looks at me, I feel like he can see right through me, that he knows every secret I've ever had." "So you think he'll get to the bottom of Jeff's death?" Harlan said. "Oh yeah." Angela said, excitement rising in her voice. "Hugh was telling me that Don just looked at that dead sheriff for one minute and had figured out what very likely happened, and found where that sheriff had been injected with a tiny little syringe. And Martin was telling me that Don already has figured out that the body was dumped in one place, then moved and dumped in another." "Wow." Harlan said, trying to think as he considered the situation. "And he has jurisdiction in the case? How does that work, especially if there was something happening in the other county?" "Jeff's body was found in our County." Angela said. "Our police chief has jurisdiction. He could call in the SBI to assist, turn the case over to them, or let us, his detectives, handle it. He is most likely going to let Don and Martin handle it; the SBI may be a good organization in other parts of the State, but up here they are pathetic." "Don't worry, Cousin." Angela said, her husky voice sounding sexy and seductive. "I'm sure that if anything comes up to cause you a problem, something else will come along... to distract us..." She raised her glass of wine as if making a toast. Harlan peered at his cousin but was unable to fathom her. "I hope you're right... I hope you're right." was all he was able to say. --------------------------- "Were you good for Mommy today? Did you behave for your mommy?" I asked my daughter as I held her and fed her the bottle. I tried to talk in my regular voice instead of a falsetto baby-talk voice so that Carole would learn my voice better. Her eyes were looking up at me as she consumed the contents of the bottle, but I don't know if she was old enough to really see me very well. "She was a very good girl today." Laura said as handed me a cloth for burping Carole, then prepared for bed. She was wearing a shimmering light blue teddy, no panties, and still wearing her high heel navy blue slides with thin straps, a clear signal that she wanted to be fucked tonight. And I was more than ready to service her. We were in the main bedroom of The Cabin. I was sitting in the rocking chair in the back corner of the room, next to the crib. I watched my wife prancing around as I put the cloth on my shoulder and burped Carole. She was a good girl and did not spit up very much. I wiped her mouth with the cloth as she began moving her arms and legs around. "Okay Carole, it's time for bed." I said, holding her a moment before getting up to put her in her crib. I thought that I was seeing something of a smile on her little face, though that may have been wishful thinking. I noticed as I lay her down on her back in the crib that she was beginning to grow hair on her once-bald head; she was going to be a raven-haired brunette like her mama. "We need to talk about getting a baby-sitting maid." Laura said. "She can stay with Carole at your mother's house during the day, and help your mom with housework and stuff like that, and also stay in the crib room behind my office while I'm working." "Sounds good to me." I said as I undressed. "But you don't want her staying here?" "I had the impression that you didn't want too many other people up here." Laura said. "Well, it'd probably be okay." I said. "And we can't impose upon my mom too much, no matter how much she says she wants to babysit and have us over there." "You're right." Laura said, lying back on the bed and spreading her long, luscious leg after kicking off her shoes. "Why don't you come over here and get your late-night snack?" "Don't mind if i do." I said and walked to the bed. I dove in between my wife's legs and began kissing her inner thighs. That didn't last long, as Laura very much wanted my tongue on her slit, and her hand was guiding my face into her sopping, fur-lined labes. I began to eat my wife's pussy, enjoying the sounds of her deep moans a I delighted in the taste of her womanhood. "Mmm, you must've had a good day at work." I said as I came up for air between licks and laps. "It was okay, pretty routine." Laura said, her voice nearly a whisper as she pulled her legs up and back even more, exposing her quim to my tongue's heated assault. "What's got you so hot then, babe? New boyfriend?" I teased. "No, just seeing you when you're on a big case." Laura admitted. "You really turn me on when you're 'in the zone' like you get on big cases..." A part of me wondered if that was true, or if she was holding back something. She sure wasn't holding back on how hot and horny she was. I continued to eat my wife's pussy, delving my tongue deeper into her hot hole, slurping on her cunt like it was a big, juicy peach. I moaned into her pussy, letting the vibrations of my voice add to her pleasure, and I was rewarded with gushes of her tangy juices. After long minutes of deeply eating Laura's pussy, bringing her to two very hard orgasms, she finally invited-- well, begged-- me to mount her and fuck her. As I rose to mount here, she opened the package and took out the condom. We were going to start trying to have another baby, but Laura wanted her body to recover from Carole and go through a full monthly cycle, so I had to wear a rubber during intercourse. "It's only for a few more weeks." Laura said as she unrolled the condom down my throbbing, iron-hard shaft. I didn't say anything as I guided my cock into her swollen labes and penetrated her, then shoved my full length balls-deep into her hot quim. "Oh GOD that feels so GOOD!" she gasped loudly. I began a fast, hard rhythm of fucking my wife, nuzzling her neck as I powered my meat into her with urgent, powerful thrusts. I felt Laura's cunt clutch powerfully at me and I drove into her, feeling as if her cunt wanted to expel my cock and working hard not to be released. Laura was gasping and moaning as she came and I rode her through her orgasm, feeding her cock with all of the strength I could muster. It was a pleasure to hotly fuck my wife. As always, I made sure to notice the smells and sounds and the touch of her, always grateful to be copulating with this incredibly hot, wonderful woman. "Oh Laura... oh God, I love you baby!" I said as I clutched her and drove my cock into her with almost painful desire. "Oh darling, I love you so much!" Laura said, "Now fuck me like you mean it!" As her voice and clutching hands urged me on, I fucked my wife with all the male power I could muster. Laura's second deep orgasm wasn't long in coming, and after it exploded through her I felt my nut rising. The pressure was rising, beginning to build up in my cock and loins, demanding to be released. I continued to piston my cock furiously in and out of Laura, her loins humping up to meet my every thrust until, with a loud gasp of ecstatic pain, the dam burst. My mind fogged as my cock exploded, the pulses of my release rocketing through my cock as my semen filled the tip of the confining condom... The Murdered Football Player Ch. 01 Long minutes later, as we were cuddling, Laura said "So you're still on this case of this football player?" "For now." I said. "I'm afraid that the politics are going to get ugly, though, since he's on the football team. I'm hoping that it's some kind of natural causes or accident and we can find out what happened and close the case, but..." I paused, thinking. "But...?" Laura queried, to make me finish. "But I don't think it's that simple." I said. "And I think this kid was murdered." To be continued... The Murdered Football Player Ch. 02 The order of my stories to read is: Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, Case of the Executed Evangelist series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10. The Murdered Football Player, Ch. 01 Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas. This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, nor cults, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above. Part 6 - The Insurmountable Wall At 6:00am the next morning, Sunday, I walked into the MCD room. Martin Nash had beaten me in, which pleased me greatly. As I poured a cup of coffee, I asked him if anything had developed overnight. "Toxicology and the preliminary autopsy report." he said, handing me the file folder. "Tanya is over there driving them like racehorses, and she's still there; she didn't go home last night." "Good." I said as I read the report. "She knows how urgent this is." There was some alcohol in the blood and in the victim's stomach, but hardly enough to even give the kid a buzz, much less kill him. There were no illegal drugs like marijuana, cocaine or ecstasy in his system. The report also named a prescription drug in the boy's system, which was used to regulate irregular heartbeats. There were also traces of another drug, possibly a residue of a performance-enhancing drug, which was being analyzed further. The level of these drugs were pretty high, as if he had just taken them. The preliminary autopsy had ruled out any violence or trauma, and there had been no internal bleeding. It appeared that the young man's heart had stopped, perhaps the result of a heart attack, though the effect of the drugs on the heart had not been ruled out. "Lieutenant, can I ask a question?" Martin said, and I knew what it would be. "You want to know what the urgency is about?" I replied. I looked around as he nodded, then said "Just between you, me, and these here desktops: this is going to become a very political case because the victim is on the University football team. So we have to get our shit together and get as much data as we possibly can as soon as we can, because when the Chief's phone starts ringing off the hook, it's going to get deep and muddy around here." Just then Diana Torres, Hugh Hewitt, and Angela Harlan came in. Cindy Ross strode in five minutes later, looking unhappy. "Why the long face, my friend?" I asked Cindy. "I realized it last night." she said sulkily. "What's going to happen this morning." I knew exactly what she meant and I just nodded to her. "What's going to happen?" Angela asked. "We'll burn that bridge when we get to it." I said. "Meantime Angela, I have to tell you that because your cousin is the football coach at the university, and because our dead man was on the football team, we have to be careful about what you do on this case. My temptation is to keep you off the case, but that is hardly fair to you and there might be ways you can be helpful. But we'll see how things go this morning." "Yes sir." Angela said. "But I'm a professional; you can trust me no matter who my relatives are." "I do trust you, we all do." I said. "It's more about appearances than anything else, especially with a rabidly anti-School, anti-Football, and anti-Police Media around here." "I understand, sir." Angela said. "I just hope Captain Malone brings in the parents early enough for you to interview them." Cindy said. The others looked quizzically at us. "Cindy, pour yourself a cup of coffee and don't worry about it until it happens." I said. "And someone turn on the TV; it's almost seven o'clock." "I'm on it." said Tanya Perlman as she entered the room and headed to the TV. She looked exhausted. "Cindy, a cup o' joe for our Crime Lab Supervisor. She's done yeoman's work staying up all night to get these reports in." I said. Cindy brought two mugs over, giving one to Tanya as we settled in for our daily dose of Bettina! "This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News! Channel Two News has learned that the body of a young University student yesterday morning is that of varsity football player Jefferson Davis Jackson. Jackson was a redshirt Sophomore and slated to be the starting tight end for the University football team in this upcoming season. The University and Athletic Department have released statements of condolences, but no official of the University nor member of the coaching staff would agree to an on-camera interview with Channel Two News as they await the results of an autopsy. The lovely redhead reporter continued, her face almost a smile as she released the sad details of Jackson's death. "Meanwhile, the Police Department has also not released any new information on the passing of Jeff Jackson after confirming his identity. The Police Department has declined to say whether or not foul play might be involved in the young athlete's untimely death. "Meanwhile, the office of State Senator Nathan Allen has issued a statement saying that the Town & County Police are incapable of handling this task, and he is demanding that the State Bureau of Investigation take the lead in solving the case." "Bit early to be saying that, isn't he?" Martin Nash said indignantly. I put my fingers over my mouth in a "hush" sign; I wanted to hear more of Bettina. The redhead reporterette continued: "In other news, citizens of Coltrane County are mourning the death of their beloved Sheriff --" Bettina said, naming the dirty asshole who was anything but beloved. "His death is being ruled a heart attack by the Coltrane County Medical Examiner's office, despite information from sources to Channel Two News that the Sheriff may have been injected with a drug that stopped his heart. "The Coltrane County Sheriff's Department also denied that there was a confrontation with Town & County Police at the border of the counties at the time the body of Jeff Jackson was found, saying that they were then and are now prepared to assist the SBI in any investigation within or pertaining to Coltrane County. This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News; as always, we will break in with any new developments as we learn them." "They'll work with the SBI but not us." Martin Nash said. He was beginning to understand how the politics worked and how Bettina nuanced her words. "Yep." I said. "The Media is helping this State Senator and the SBI lay the groundwork for-- " I didn't get a chance to finish. Captain Harold Malone had entered the MCD room, a rare occurrence. "The parents are here." Malone said. "They're waiting in the front lobby." "Martin, you're with me." I said. We followed Captain Malone into the lobby, where a couple in their early 50s awaited us. The woman had been crying and was red-eyed. She had reddish-blonde hair, dyed, was of medium build, decent figure. The man looked fairly distinguished, letting some gray hair mix with his darker brown-black hair. He was tall, about 5'10", and had been an athlete in the past though his body was beginning to show the signs of age. "This is Doug and Roberta Jackson." Captain Malone said, then introduced me and Detective Nash. "I've asked Don here to speak with you." "Do you know what happened to our son?" Roberta Jackson said, her voice nearly breaking. "Why don't we go in here?" I said, leading the way to Interrogation-A from the lobby side. I asked the Jacksons to be seated and Nash and I took seats on the "police side" of the table. Captain Malone sat by Mrs. Jackson. "First of all, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, I want to say how sorry I am for your loss." I said. "I know this is a shocking and terrible time for you, and I'm also sorry that in order to find out what happened to your son, we're going to have to ask some questions that might be painful." "We understand." said Mr. Jackson. "How can we help?" "First of all, did Jeff have any medical problems?" "Yes, he did." said Mr. Jackson. "When he was about 13 and tried out for Junior High football, the doctors thought he might have a valve issue with his heart. We did a bunch of tests and they monitored him, and there seemed to be no real issue. They also said he'd grow out of it, and he did. We continued having him checked regularly, but he played football in junior high and high school with no problems. Mr. Jackson continued: "Then when he was offered the football scholarship to the University, they ran more tests. Jeff didn't have the valve problem anymore, but he did have occurrences of a slightly irregular heartbeat, which led to blood pressure swings. In addition, the doctors thought he might have early signs of Type II diabetes, but they thought his athletic regimen and diet would keep that under control. He's been taking medicine to keep his heartbeat and blood pressure stable, and he's had no problems." He named the medications Jeff had been taking, and Martin and I both wrote them down. "Thank you, sir." I said. "Did Jeff do a lot of partying? Did he stay out very late at night?" "Sure, he did his fair share," said Mr. Jackson, "but he never stayed out really late, and he never drove drunk or anything." "Do either of you know of anyone that might want to hurt Jeff in any way?" I asked. The question was routine, but I noticed the parents glance at each other. "Anything? If you know something, I really need to know about it." I said, trying to sound smooth and friendly but commanding at the same time. "Well, let me say it this way." Mr. Jackson said. "He didn't have any real enemies that we knew of, but... last year around Christmas we heard from some friends whose son also was in school here that Jeff started dating this girl, and her ex-boyfriend was ticked off about it. I didn't get all the details, but there might have been some confrontation over it." "Do you know the girl's name or the ex-boyfriend's?" I asked. Both parents shook their heads no. "Who was the friend and the friend's son, from whom you learned this?" I asked. Mr. Jackson gave me the names, but then said "Our friend's son is no longer here at school, and the whole family moved away to California this past Spring. They never gave us a way to contact them and we've fallen completely out of touch with them." He gave me the last phone number he had, which was in his cell phone. "Thank you, Mr. Jackson." I said. "I just have one more line of questioning, and please don't misunderstand where I'm going with it: your son's full name was Jefferson Davis Jackson. Was he named after the president of the Confederacy?" Mr. Jackson hesitated and then said "Yes sir, he was." "The reason I ask is that of course there are black athletes on his team, and if they knew his full name they might not like it. Do you know if Jeff ever had any problems over that, if anyone ever gave him a hard time about his name?" "I never heard of any problem." said Mr. Jackson, "And I don't think Jeff ever really advertised his full name, though certainly he nor we were ever ashamed about it." "Certainly, sir," I said, "but I have to ask just in case it might have been an issue and caused someone to want to cause him trouble." "I understand," said Mr. Jackson, "but again, Jeff never said anything about any trouble with ni- *ahem* er, with other players." "Thank you both." I said. "Detective Nash is the lead investigator into your son's death. Detective Nash, do you have any questions?" "Just one, and let me also say how sorry I am for your loss." Nash said. "Did Jeff have a serious girlfriend, or did he date a lot?" Excellent, I thought to myself: Nash had picked up on that. His mother spoke up for the first time: "Jeff was very popular with girls. He never had one single girlfriend while in high school, but several girls were always coming over to see him or go to parties with him. If he had a serious girlfriend in college, he never said anything to me." Mr. Jackson also shook his head. "Thank you ma'am." Nash said. "Lieutenant, I asked earlier if you have any idea what happened to my son." Mrs. Jackson said, her eyes boring into me. "Do you?" "Not yet, ma'am." I said. "There was no violence to his body and no illegal drugs in his system. He may have just had a heart attack, but we can't totally rule out foul play at this time." "Thank you, Lieutenant." Captain Malone said, endeavoring to bring the interviews to an end. "I'll let you guys get back to work now, and I'll take the parents over to the 'other' building." I knew what he meant: the parents had to go identify the body. "Certainly." I said. "Again, I'm sorry for your loss, and we'll let you know more as soon as we find out anything." ------------------------------ 8:30am Sunday morning is not a time I wanted to be in action, driving to the University's athletic dorm with Martin Nash. But necessity dictated fast movement. "We've got to act quickly." I said. "You weren't here when we once interrogated a football player named Tony. He was supplying PEDs to the team at the time, which he bought from my nephew Ned and my sister Elizabeth. I want to talk with him and see if he knows anything about where Jeff Jackson was Friday night." "Think he'll tell you?" Martin asked. "If we frame the questions in the right way." "So you're a Campus Police cop now?" Martin asked. He had noticed that I had clipped my Campus Police badge very prominently to the lapel of my sportscoat. "Yep, I'm legitimate Law Enforcement on campus. You, not so much, so you'll just be my bodyguard." "As if you need one." Martin said as we pulled into the parking lot of the athlete's dorm. I flashed my badge as we went by the front desk, where some punk kid was on duty. We went down the hall to the far end stairs and ascended to the third floor. Coming out of the stairwell, there was a study room to the left. Three doors down to the right, I stopped and knocked. The door was opened by a teen athlete, who was Tony's roommate. Tony was in bed, just waking up. "Get up, Tony." I commanded. "Let's go talk." "Wha-- what the fuck!" Tony said as he woke up. When he saw who I was, he got angry. "You said you were going to stay the fuck away from me!" "And I have." I said. "Now put on a pair of pants and let's go talk in the study room at the end of the hall." "I don't have anything to say to you." Tony sneered. "You do if you want to play football this year." I said. "I just want to talk, Tony. Down the hall. Let's go." "Shit." Tony said. "Cal, call the coach and tell them this fucking cop is bugging me." "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Cal." I said. "I just want to talk to this guy, not get him in trouble. You call the coach, and I'll be forced to arrest both of you." "Wait until I get back before calling, Cal." Tony said. Much wiser, I thought to myself. In the study room, Tony and I sat at one small round table while Martin Nash stood guard at the door. "Tony, you know Jeff Jackson was found dead Friday night." I said. "Yeah, what about it?" "Do you know what he was doing that night? Did he go to a party or anything?" I asked. "I have no idea." Tony said. "I didn't hang out with the guy. And why are you bugging me about it? You said you'd leave my ass alone last time you dragged me to your police station." "Yes, I did, Tony," I said, "and this isn't about that. You're not in trouble, here, bud. But there appeared to be PED residues in Jackson's system when he was found dead, and last I heard you were the go-to guy for PEDs around here." "Look, man," Tony said, sounding a bit desperate. "After all that shit went down with Big Alex and my supplier, I stopped doing or spreading that PED shit. I walked away cold; someone else handles that, and I don't know who it is, and don't wanna know. I really don't know anything about any of this." "How about a name of someone who can tell me about Jeff Jackson and his whereabouts Friday night. I don't really care about the PEDs, I just want to find out what happened to your teammate." I said. "You might want to talk to Teddy Franklin." Tony said, his voice dropping to nearly a whisper. "He's the H-back in our multiple sets, and he practiced and worked out with Jeff a lot. I think they partied a lot together, too, shared women and all that." "What's his room number?" "He doesn't live in this dorm." Tony said. "He lives in the Old Dorm. He's in ROTC as well as on the football team, so he was in front of the line to get one of the big rooms there." Tony gave me the room number. "Thanks." I said. "Just one more question... did your supplier, Ned, did he ever come back and visit you?" Tony didn't speak for a second, then realized that it would be better to tell me. With a sigh he said "Yeah. Just two weeks ago. I was walking back to the locker room after practice and he came up to me. He was wearing the same golf shirt and athletic pants that our trainers wear, looked as if he were one of 'em. He told me to keep walking and he walked with me. "He said he was pissed and that I still owed him his money. I got my hackles up and told him that he wasn't getting any money from me, that I didn't have it, and that my football buddies would rip his ass apart if something happened to me. He told me to calm down and then said that all he wanted me to do was to take him to see Coach Harlan and introduce him, and that all of my debt would be forgiven, every dime, and that I'd never see him again." "What did you do?" I asked. "Took him to see Coach Harlan in the Coach's office. I left them alone. Coach later asked how I knew the guy and I told him the kid had paid me to introduce them. I don't know if the coach believed me, but he said that he didn't want to see that kid again and that I was to report it if I saw him again on campus." Just then there was a banging on the door. One of the assistant coaches was at the door, in the company of the punk who had been at the front desk. "Let him in, Martin." I said. "Hey, what's going on here?" the coach asked. "Cops can't talk to our guys without talking to us first--" As I stood up, the coach stared at me, gaping. "Don? My God, Don is that you?" "How are you, Coach?" I said, offering my hand, but that wasn't enough. The Coach grabbed me in a bear hug as if I were his long-lost son. I hugged him back. "How the hell are you, son? Haven't seen you since you graduated and got your commission!" "Martin, this is Coach Marshall, Erskine "Iron Man" Marshall." I said, introducing Martin Nash to him. "He's the weight training coach, and was in that same job at my school when I was there. He volunteered to weight train the ROTC cadets as his contribution to the military services, and my God! did he torture us for a year, getting us ready for camp!" "Yeah, I was the 'Iron Man', and now this guy is the 'Iron Crowbar', go figure. Yeah, I heard about that, Don. Been meaning to get in touch with you, but we're so busy." Coach Marshall said. He was almost a "Mr. Clean" lookalike, with his bald head and well-built body, but he was older, was not very tall, and his blue eyes were piercing. "Right back at you." I said. "I can't seem to get past the Campus Police station when I visit campus." "Or the Psychology Department, so I've heard." Marshall said, laughing. "Martin, I'm sure you know that this guy is one hell of a cop. I knew he was going to be one hell of an officer, too. If Tony here would work out as hard as Don did, Tony would be a Heisman Trophy candidate-- hey, Tony's not in any trouble here, is he?" The Murdered Football Player Ch. 02 "Oh no, Coach, I was just informally asking him a few questions to try to get to the bottom of Jeff Jackson's death." I said, covering for Tony. "Okay, but really, I can't let you talk to him any more without going through channels." Marshall said. "You know the drill with the protocols and all." "Yeah, I know. Thanks, Coach, and here's my number." I said, giving the Coach my card. "Let's get in touch when you can, though I know you're busy this time of season." "Sure thing, Don." the Coach said. "You two just head down the stairs and out, and it'll be like you were never here. Tony, this is the first time I've ever seen you in a study room..." I heard him say as Martin and I scooted past the punk kid, glaring hard at him along the way, and down the staircase. The punk glared back, and I made a mental note to find out a lot more about him. The University's main square, or quad, was surrounded by buildings that included the Psychology building, Pharmacy building, Chemistry building, etc. on the north side and English, Literature, Fine Arts, History, etc. on the south side. There was a fence and gate that opened to the main north-south road and was the official entrance, as it was when the University was started more than 150 years before. The Town was on the other side of the road and my home "The Cabin" hovered on the mountain to the east, high over the University, just barely south of an east-west line bisecting the main quad. Just north of that ring of buildings was another ring around a grassy quad, which were all dorms. The Old Dorm was at the west end, a fence and small strip of ground separating it from the main road, while the "New Dorm", which was the second-oldest dorm and an exact duplicate of Old Dorm, was on the far opposite side: at the base of the mountain that rose up east of campus. My mother's house was on that mountain almost straight above the dorm. The Old Dorm's front facade looked like the front of The Alamo, but was old red brick in color. Nash and I again ignored the front desk girls, except for me making sure they saw my Campus Police badge. On the second floor near the center of the dorm, whose back window would overlook the main road and not the quad, was Teddy Franklin's room. The door opened to our knock, and a drop-dead gorgeous blonde co-ed appeared. She was naked, with only a towel barely covering her large breasts and her loins. "Hi guys, what can I do for you?" she asked, her playfulness reminding me of Tanya Perlman. "Is Teddy Franklin here?" I asked. "I'm sorry, he went out a few minutes ago." the girl said. "Would you like to leave me a message for him?" Nash was about to give her a card, but I stopped him. "We'll catch up to him." I said. "Thank you, miss." Urging Nash along, we left. As we walked back to the car, Nash said "Whew! Glad I have a girlfriend." "I hear ya." I said. "Football players get all the girls." "Why not give our number and have him call?" Nash asked. "Because he won't." I said. "And if he knows the police are looking for him, he might bug out, especially if he knows anything about Jeff Jackson." "So how do we find him and talk to him?" Martin said. Just then my cellphone went off. "Yes, Chief?" I said, answering it. "Yes sir." I said woodenly upon hearing his orders for me and Nash to return to Headquarters immediately. "Well, this is it." I said after hanging up. "What do you mean?" "You'll see when we get there." I said, no small amount of frustration in my voice. ---------------------- When we entered the Headquarters building, we both immediately felt the tension, which could be cut with a knife. Entering the MCD room, we found all of the MCD and Vice Detectives except Steven Ikea and Sergeant Sharples sitting and chatting. Sharples was on leave, attending the funeral of a relative. While the others were talking, Cindy Ross was at her desk, silently sulking, and nobody in their right mind had any desire to go near her, not even her friend Teresa "Cunt" Croyle. Britt Maxwell was also in the room, talking to Tanya Perlman and Angela Harlan. I did what any good MCD Lieutenant would do: I walked through the gaggle straight to Cindy Ross. I never said I was in my right mind, did I? "What's going on, my friend?" I asked. "Captain Maxwell did not come here alone; she was accompanied by Commissioner Robinson." Cindy said, looking up at me from under her eyelids without raising her head. "The Chief has told us to all wait in here and will speak to us when he gets out of his meeting." "And who is in the meeting?" I asked. It was Britt Maxwell that answered. "Chief Griswold, Commissioner Robinson, and SBI Deputy Director Tom Conlan." Commissioner Robinson was the Campus Police Commissioner. Just then, the Chief's secretary, Martha, appeared at the back door. "The Chief has asked for all of you to go to Classroom J." Martha announced, as if we were to head to the receiving line of one of University President Wellman's receptions. We all trudged out and down the hall to Classroom J. Once there, as everyone took seats, I went to the front and said what had to be said. "Before the Chief gets here, guys," I said, "I want to say something. I have a good idea what's going to happen, and I think you do, too. I want all of you to remember who you are and who we are, and act like the professional police officers that we are, okay?" There was a grumbling of acquiescence. "Here comes the Chief. Get on your feet and show respect as he comes in." I said. I moved quickly next to a seat up front. The chief came in and looked around as we stood at attention, as if he were a military commander. "Take seats, please." the Chief said when he got to the podium in front, not allowing himself to be fazed at our formality. After we sat down, he addressed us. "After due consideration and discussions with other law enforcement officials, I have decided that we are going to turn jurisdiction of the Jefferson Jackson case over to the State Bureau of Investigation--" The groan in the room was audible and stopped the Chief mid-sentence. He glared over the room and continued. "We will give the SBI copies of our notes of the case, copies of our forensics data and one set of samples. We will cooperate with them in any way they need-- when they ask. Unless and until they do ask, none of you are investigate the Jackson case any further. Captain Malone is assisting the parents of the late Mr. Jackson, who are his personal friends, so he may continue to act in that capacity. I expect everyone to abide by this decision with your usual professionalism and-- Miss Ross, do you have something to say?" The Chief had seen that Cindy, while silent, was deeply red faced and her eyes flashing fire. Teresa Croyle was not able to stop Cindy from standing up and coming to attention, not facing the Chief but facing forward. "Yes sir. With all due respect sir, there is no way that this case gets solved or resolved without him--" she was pointing at me, "and without this team getting the job done. The SBI can't find water in a swimming pool, sir. By law, it's your call on who has jurisdiction, sir, and I request that you reconsider and let us retain jurisdiction over this case." "Thank you, Miss Ross. Have a seat." the Chief said. I could just feel the tension in everyone's minds and souls. Teresa looked at Cindy as if lightning was going to come down and strike Cindy into ashes as the Chief said "Folks, I'm not going to explain myself in making this decision, but I will make two comments: first, I have complete faith and trust in each and every one of your abilities to do your jobs, and my decision is in no way a negative reflection on any of you... quite the opposite, in fact. "Second, there's an old saying that 'the higher up the flagpole you go, the farther your ass sticks out'. One day some of you, and especially this Lieutenant in front of you, is going to come to understand the meaning of those words. Until then, it's my ass at the top of the flagpole. And while you won't understand, I've made this decision partially to help and to protect all of you." "Okay, folks," the Chief said, letting his voice melt into a friendlier, quieter tone. "It's Sunday. Go home, get some rest, and come back tomorrow ready to solve new problems. Crowbar, Perlman, Captain Maxwell, please come to my small conference room. The rest of you are dismissed." Everyone got up and begin filing out. As Cindy came by me, I whispered to her to wait in MCD for me, and she nodded. ----------------------- "Okay Perlman," the Chief said, once we were in the conference room, "have Technician Cho do her magic and make sure we keep some sample." "Already covered, sir." Perlman said. Commissioner Robinson was also in the room, his face inscrutable. "Don, I want to be doubly clear that neither you nor MCD are to work on this case unless asked by the SBI." said the Chief. "Captain Maxwell, I can't order you to not pursue the case--" "I can." said Commissioner Robinson as he looked out the window. He then turned and let his eyes set upon Britt. "And I do. We're off the case as well, Captain." I realized that that little repartee had been staged between the two men. "Yes sir." Britt said, the air going out of her sails as it had the rest of us. "Lieutenant, stay here." the Chief said. "The rest of you can go." I asked Tanya to wait in her office in this building until I was out. She nodded. Everyone else left, leaving me alone with Chief Griswold. It was silent for a long moment. "So, Crowbar, nothing to say?" the Chief finally said. "No sir." I said, perhaps a bit flatly. "You've made your decision and you have your reasons." "Very professional of you." Chief Griswold said. "I appreciate it, though part of me wishes you'd be screaming at me right now. I can tell you're pissed. Was that you that set up that little attention spectacle when I came into Classroom J?" "Yes sir." I said. "That was an attention-getter... pun not intended." "Just wait until you're in the Chief's chair." the Chief said. "That's why I don't want that chair for another 20 years." I replied. The Chief peered at me. "What do you want, Crowbar?" the Chief asked openly for the first time. "Ultimately, I mean?" "To solve cases, and to clean up the dirt not only in this Police Department... but in this whole County." "Ambitious task, but I'm with you on that. By the way... does Miss Ross need further instruction in professionalism?" the Chief asked. "No sir." I said. "I'll talk to her." Part 7 - Transition I entered the MCD room several minutes later. Cindy Ross was sitting at her desk, Teresa on the other side of it, neither saying anything. When I walked in, Teresa excused herself and left. I pulled up a chair next to Cindy's and sat down. "So, how much trouble am I in?" she asked, looking ahead. "None." I said. "None at all. The Chief was not happy about that, of course, but nothing is going to come of it. If he changes his mind and puts something in your file, I'll take it right back out." I continued: "I might... suggest... that you take stuff like that private, even if given that opportunity to speak like that. You could probably have gone into the Chief's office and cussed him out and chewed his ass up one side and down the other... as long as it was in private. Don't do that now, of course." Cindy smiled at the last comment. "I guess I should go apologize." she said. "No, just let it go." I said. "The Chief let you speak intentionally, to fulfill several purposes, one of which is this conversation we are having right now. As the posters say, 'Keep Calm And Carry On'." "Well, I guess we're off the case." Cindy said. "Yep." I said, "but along the way I developed a few sidelines that we can look into. Care to join me, partner?" Cindy finally smiled for real. "Sure thing... partner." ----------------------- Tanya was in her little office across from mine when I came and got her. "Let's take a stroll to the Crime Lab Building." I said. The Crime Lab Building and Morgue was across the secure parking lot, within the fences so that it was protected. It was a walk of 120 meters over pavement. That was good: no bugs, I had checked. As we walked along I asked quietly, "Have you started running a DNA test on the material found under Jackson's fingernails and on his cock?" "Yes." Tanya said, smiling. "I 'milked' his cock and got some residue out. Semen, but maybe there'll be enough other stuff to go along with the skin under his fingernails, and that it's the woman's DNA... assuming it's a woman." "I think we can safely deduce that Jackson was straight and that he was fucking a woman." I said. "Do you have enough sample to give some to the SBI?" "No." Tanya said. "Then don't give it to them, don't give them notes that mention the material. Keep running the test. We'll have to give the SBI a copy of the results when the tests are done, but we can burn that bridge when we come to it." "Roger that, boss." Tanya said. "By the way, how does the Chief know about Christina's magic?" "Because I told him." I said. "One does not keep secrets from one's boss, especially the Chief of Police, and most especially that man." "What do you think of him giving up the case to the SBI?" Tanya said, her face showing doubtfulness. "That's totally unlike him." "To a point, yes." I said. "But he's getting old, near retirement, we have some serious issues within the Department that I'm looking at-- by the way, don't say anything about that to anyone-- and I think the Chief is truly trying to protect us from our own ability to solve the case. If I'm right, there's stuff relating back to the football team... and God have mercy on the soul of anyone who causes a problem for that sacred cow for the School and this County." "Never seen the Chief back down to the University before, no matter what. Justice has always come first." Tanya said, sadness in her voice. "And it will continue to. He hasn't given up. Don't judge him too harshly." I said, smiling as we neared the Lab Building. ------------------------------------- "I'm really sorry about how all this went down." Ted Crenshaw said as I handed him a file containing copies of my notes of the Jackson case. Crenshaw had been the SBI agent that had worked with us on the Anthony Warner "Swap" murders. It was Monday morning, about 9:00am. SBI agents were crawling around our Headquarters and the Crime Lab building, really enjoying adding verbal insults to my people as they collected copies of data. The normally quiet and professional Martin Nash had been irritated enough to tell one SBI agent to "mind your manners" when the guy arrogantly told Nash outright that the Town & County Police weren't good enough to handle the case. The guy backed off when he looked over his shoulder and found Cindy Ross staring at him, ready to start a fight and administer some serious pain. The people collecting info from the Crime Lab respected Tanya Perlman enough to not cause trouble with her, fortunately for all. It is possible that Officer Pete Feeley and two other uniformed policemen with bulletproof vests, guns, and wielding heavy police batons kept things quiet and professional over there, as well. "Yeah, "I said to Crenshaw, "and your people here aren't helping with their jabs at my guys." I said. "I will be remembering this." "Look, Don," Crenshaw said, trying hard to keep things good between us, "they sent me over because I've got a decent relationship with you guys. I told my guys to keep their mouths shut, which they are not doing. Let me handle them; there will be some reprimands in some files." "All right." I said. "By the way, if you're in charge, are you going to ask me for 'assistance with your inquiries'?" Crenshaw looked around, then lowered his voice and sat down on the edge of the desk behind which I was seated. "I'm not in charge, I'm not even on this case; they sent me here because I'm one of the few SBI agents you won't immediately beat the shit out of with your crowbar. They're scared shitless of you, Don, not only because of the crowbar but because of your ability to solve cases." "And one more thing..." Crenshaw continued, looking around again to make sure he wasn't heard. "Don, I was given orders in very explicit terms that neither I nor anyone here was to ask nor give any hint of asking any of you for any help at all. That may be why some of our guys are acting like dickheads, kind of as cover so they don't say the wrong words. But the bottom line is that the brass really put the fear of God in us. Just between us... I don't think the brass wants this case solved." "Or they want it solved in a way that does not reflect badly in any way on the University, and especially not the football program, no matter where the Truth may lead them." I replied quietly. "And Ted, it may really have just been a heart attack, and some people panicked and dumped the body. But look around and tell me if you think this reaction is for that." "Speaking of the Truth..." Crenshaw said, "The truth is that I'll be glad to hand this data over and get the hell away from this case. It's toxic, pure poison." I wondered if he realized how truthful his words were... ------------------------------ Coach Erskine "Iron Man" Marshall entered Head Coach Brian Harlan's office at 10:00am. "You wanted to see me, Coach?" "Yeah, come on in, have a seat." Harlan said. "What's up?" Marshall asked. "I'll get right to it." Harlan said. "I heard that you interrupted a cop talking to Tony--, and that you knew the cop really well." "Yeah, sure." Marshall said. "He was an ROTC cadet at the previous school at I was at. I weight-trained the cadets there like I do here. He was a really good cadet, and a good officer too, from what I heard." "So what was he talking to Tony about?" Harlan asked. "I don't know, they stopped talking when I went into the room. I told Don he couldn't talk to any players without coming through us coaches, and Don and his fellow officer left. You'll have to ask Tony what they were talking about." "I already have, it was about Jeff Jackson's death. Tony didn't know anything." Harlan said, then let his eyes bore into Marshall's. "Look, Iron Man, I'm going to be very blunt, here. I don't want you talking to that cop while they're investigating Jeff Jackson, even if he's your friend. And if you see him trying to talk to any of our players, I need to know that immediately." "Sure." said Marshall. "Er, is there a problem, Coach?" He asked, a sense of foreboding suddenly enveloping him. "The SBI is taking over the Jackson investigation, which makes me feel a lot better." Harlan said. "I don't trust the Town & County Police, even with my cousin being hired there... hell, I feel worse with her there than not. But I just want them at a distance from us, until the SBI rightfully finds that Jackson died of natural causes or something like that." "Okay, Coach." Marshall said. "See you at practice." Harlan said as a dismissal. Marshall left. The back door to the coach's office opened and Coach Willy "Speedy" Gonzales walked in. He was the wide receivers coach, and a former semi-pro receiver. He was slender with light brown skin, black hair and a mustache, and his eyes were dark and cunning, especially when narrowed into slits. He also was the guy handling getting and distributing PEDs and other drugs to players who could be trusted to keep their mouths shut. "What do you think, Speedy?" Harlan said. "He's too honest. And he's a friend of the most honest and powerful cop on the Town Police Force, who is a Campus cop also? I don't like that mix at all, Coach." The Murdered Football Player Ch. 02 "Me neither." said Coach Harlan, his voice a drawl. "Speedy, if something happens and this Jackson investigation goes against us or gets out of hand, I want you to make sure that Marshall takes the fall, understand? In fact, lay the groundwork with Ferrell now." "Yes sir, Coach, yes sir. It'll be my pleasure..." Part 8 - The Shadow Investigation At 1:00pm I headed for Town Fitness Centers. To my great fortune, an inquiry to my nephew Todd revealed that he was a friend of Teddy Franklin, who was a member of the unofficial SEX Fraternity. Todd had contacted Teddy on my behalf, and asked Teddy to meet us at the gym. I went to the men's locker room and put on a swimsuit and headed into the sauna. It was not particularly hot. A few minutes later, Todd and another college age boy entered the sauna. Teddy Franklin had a full head of brown hair, was tall, slender and handsome. No wonder he had a hot blonde co-ed naked in his room, I thought to myself. He also had a quiet demeanor. After introducing us, Todd got up and left. "You sure nobody is going to come in and see us talking?" Teddy asked, nervous. "The coaches really drilled it into us not to talk to the police." "We're not talking, this is totally unofficial and off the record." I said. "There won't be a note of it in existence, and nobody will know we even spoke. As to anyone coming in here? When Todd went out he secured the room, and no one else will be coming into here until we leave. One of the co-owners of this gym is my partner on the Police Force, the other is my former wife and we're on good terms." "Yes, I've had the pleasure of meeting Melina. Okay, what can I help you with?" Teddy asked, relaxing. "Jeff Jackson. What can you tell me about him?" "Not a whole lot." Teddy said. "I didn't hang out with him very much. In fact, I often hang out with ROTC buddies or Todd and his friends more than other football players." "Your unofficial fraternity has better parties, I take it?" I asked, smiling. "The women are a whole lot classier than the football parties." Teddy said, grinning. "Which reminds me, I think Jeff may have gone to one of those unofficial alumni parties Friday night. None of the guys that went are saying a word. I'm guessing it was due to Jeff's death. The team is circling the wagons." "I've heard a little about these parties, but tell me more." I said. "Fill me in on the inside scoop." "Okay, usually a group of 10-20 players meet somewhere off campus. One of those big vans or small buses comes and picks us up." "University buses?" "I don't know, they're not marked." "Who organizes the groups and arranges the meetings?' "Usually a couple of Seniors on the team organize it. It's always players only. They try to make sure every player that wants to go gets at least one party a year, but some get extra of course. Nick Eastwood, the quarterback, he's on all the trips. Jeff liked them, also." Teddy said. "And you went with Jeff to this party?" "No, not this one, but I went on one with him last Spring, during Spring football practice." Teddy said. "What happens is we get on the buses and we can't see out and they tell us not to look out. We end up at some country club somewhere with a pool in warm weather, or some big house or chateau with an indoor pool in the winter. There are a lot of alumni at the party, and some of them bring their wives, who flirt with us." "We talk football with the alumni, and players that want to can go with one of the wives, usually inside the club or into a bedroom somewhere, and we fuck the wives. I remember the first time I ever did it with a wife, she was hot but I was scared shitless that her husband would walk in. She told me that her husband knew, that he wanted me to fuck her, that he got off on it as much as she did, and that it was a perk for being a good football player for the school. I'm sure we're not the only school doing this shit." "Not by a longshot." I agreed. "So players bang the wives and have a good time, maybe some booze, maybe some drugs?" "No drugs, nobody plays that shit. These are pretty big-money alumni, so they're not going to risk that stuff. But there are beers and drinks, and the guys who want to fuck the wives do so while the rest socialize. At the end of the evening, the alumni tell us goodbye and we go inside the clubhouse or into another room in the chateau. The alumni throw money into the swimming pool, and then they all leave. We come out, get the money out of the pool. At all of the parties I've been to, we split the cash evenly, and any left over gets donated to a school charity." "So you can't see where you're being taken to for these parties?" I asked. "No, but we've figured it out." Teddy said. "Most of the summer ones are at the Lake Ocheekobee Country Club. I think it's south of here." "In Coltrane County?" "No idea." "Sort of a dingy clubhouse with a big meeting room, couple of small offices to the side, sort of like an American Legion?" "Yeah, that's a pretty good description." Teddy said. "And yeah, it's sort of like the American Legion where I played Little League baseball." "Cool. That's a lot of help." I said. "So, do you know if Jeff Jackson had a girlfriend?"

"He played the field, a lot." Teddy said. "I heard rumors that he liked seducing other guys' girlfriends." "Just one more question: did he ever have any racial issues with the black players?" "No, nothing like that. He was pretty cool, bantered with the black players, but then we all do that. I heard him use the n-word a couple of times, but not like he was some kind of Klansman or anything." "Okay, Teddy, you've been a tremendous help." I said. "By the way, if the SBI talks to you: don't lie to them, but be very choosy in what you say." "I hear you." Teddy said. "Word is out big-time that they don't want to find anything wrong so they can call it a heart attack and let this die out." "What do you think?" I asked. "Maybe it was, but too much cover-up for me. Coaches are nervous. Hey, Don, can I ask a favor in return for this information?" "Sure, and I'll do it if I can." "Look... I'm a good football player, but I didn't make first string because the guy ahead of me is using performance enhancing drugs, boosters. I was offered the stuff but I didn't take it; I was afraid it would fuck up my ROTC and Army career, and I don't take shit like that anyway." "You're right, it would, and I'm glad you didn't fuck up that way." I said. "Look, I love the University, and I love football. There are a lot of good players. I don't want to fuck up the program or embarrass the School, but if I say anything about the PEDs out loud, the NCAA will come down on us like a ton of bricks, and I'll probably end up with you investigating my murder. But if there is some way you can fuck up the guys doing the PEDs and the guy distributing them without hurting the football program, I'd appreciate that." "Who's the distributor? One of the players?" I asked. "No. The Wide Receivers Coach. His name is Gonzales and we call him 'Speedy Gonzales'. He's a bad cat." "Does Coach Harlan know about it? The other coaches?" "I don't think the others do, but they'd look the other way on purpose. The strength coach, 'Iron Man' Marshall, he doesn't know; he tells us never to use that stuff and he'd beat the shit out of anyone trying to distribute the drugs. Harlan? He probably knows, he's aware of all the dirty stuff going on with alumni and recruiting, but he makes sure to keep himself away from it all." "I'll see what I can do, Teddy. Thanks for the info. You go ahead and leave first." I said. Teddy got up and left, and I followed several minutes later after sifting the information that I had through my mind. As I walked through the main gym, I saw Melina showing Cindy something in a big notebook. They looked up as I approached. "Hi Don." Melina said. "I heard about your case being taken away. Daniel told me, said the whole Department is demoralized." "Hi Beautiful." I said. "Yes, it's all part of the job." "Well, did our sauna make you feel better?" Melina asked. "Much better." I said. Cindy couldn't hide a smile. ------------------------- "So much for my first case." Martin Nash said ruefully, meaning the first case in which he'd been named lead investigator. He was sitting in my office, and it was 3:00pm. I had wanted to visit Coach Harlan on a "side" issue, but he was involved in practices. I figured I'd ambush him the next morning. "Yeah, but knowing the perps in this Town, you'll have another case, and soon." I said. "So what did you want to see me about?" "Well, I did a routine check on Jeff Jackson's parents," said Nash, "to see if they had any enemies that might want to get to them through their son." "And of course you started this before we had to drop the case." I said. "I'm sure that's what happened, isn't that right?" I was steering Nash into an ass-covering excuse, and he caught on. "Yes sir, of course." Nash said, something resembling what was for him a smile crossing his face. "I came across something, so the FBI ran a check. Here is what they just sent me." "Before I open this, let me see what the vibe says." I intoned, letting my fingers rub the dossier on my desk in a circle. "I see.... I see a white supremacy group... I see the Jackson's associated with it... and someone else, another couple..." I opened my eyes and grinned. "Am I right?" Nash smiled but I didn't quite get a laugh out of him. "Yes sir. You heard their comments, too, I take it?" "Yeah," I said, "and naming their kid after Jefferson Davis is a pretty big neon red light. I don't know if Jeff was as racist as them, but it's an angle." "Yes sir," said Nash,"but it's the other couple mentioned that shocked me." "I can guess that, too." I said. "Captain Harold Malone had no sooner told us that the parents of the dead man were his close personal friends than I realized that we would find hardcore racists. And I'll bet this file says that Malone and his wife are friends of the Jacksons in association with the White Supremacists." "You already knew?" Nash said, peering at me. "Yeah, but he keeps it pretty well hidden around the clubhouse here." I said. "Let's keep this quiet and this file well-hidden for now, okay? It's not against the law to be a racist, only to act upon it, and Malone hasn't done anything. The less he knows what we know, the better. We'll stir that pot when the time comes, but it's not that time now." "Yes sir." Nash said. "What do you want me to do now?" "We're prohibited from investigating the Jackson case directly," I said, "but there are myriad side issues that can be looked into while we have some quiet time. Seems the criminals of our fair Town are staying quiet, perhaps anticipating the beginning of football season Saturday. If you're willing, we're going to start looking into some things. I want you to get with Myron Milton and try to get anything you can on these two people." I gave him a list with two names on it. "If the Chief or the SBI asks why you were looking into these guys, you tell them to come and ask me, and that it's about my dear nephew Ned." "On my way." Part 9 - Playing The Game The sun had just set and Coach Erskine "Iron Man" Marshall was walking off the practice fields towards the coaches' offices for the post-practice review. It had been a disturbing day. SBI Agents had talked to all of the coaches, but one of the Agents talking to him had been very harsh. That agent's name was Ferrell, he was really arrogant, rude and condescending, and he'd asked Marshall repeatedly if Marshall had distributed drugs or PEDs to players, or knew anyone that did. The questions weren't disturbing so much as Agent Ferrell's attitude towards Marshall, as if he, Marshall were lying in his answers. And Marshall had come to find out that none of the other coaches had been asked about drugs at all, and that their interviews had been five minutes max while Ferrell had grilled Marshall for almost 30 minutes. On top of that, the other coaches, especially Head Coach Harlan and receivers Coach Gonzales had really given Marshall the cold shoulder treatment, and he'd seen those coaches talking and glancing his, Marshall's, way several times. The coach's sense of foreboding mixed with his general unhappiness with this job. It had been a mistake to leave his old job for this one, despite making more money and the potential to be upgraded to a position coach. In addition-- Perhaps it was paranoia, but Coach Marshall felt as if someone was coming up behind him. Regular students as well as football players used this walkway, so when he turned around he was not surprised to see the shadow of a tall, black haired young man coming up behind him. "Hi Coach." the kid said. All of a sudden, the kid stumbled. Coach Marshall grabbed him just as he grasped the coach's shoulders to avoid fall, and together they got the student upright again. "Sorry about that, Coach." the young man said as he moved along, walking at a fast pace. "Quite all right..." the Coach said. It had been dark, but there had been something familiar about that tall, slender, black-haired student. Then the coach realized that something was amiss, the kid's hand had gone into the coaches pants pocket for a second. He reached down into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Once he got to the coaches' offices, he went into his own tiny office and read the note. It was typed, and it read: "You are being watched by the SBI on campus and at your house. Fifteen minutes after going to your house, turn out all lights, go out the backdoor and through your back neighbor's yard to Cone Street. An old green car driven by a woman will be waiting for you. Go with her and she will explain everything." This was crazy, Coach Marshall thought, but then he saw the signature. It said "Trigon Rules The Night." A flash of a memory flooded the coach's mind as he recalled that "Trigon" was an ROTC squad at his old school that played the Opposing Force in field exercises... and that Don had been a part of it. No one on this campus could possibly know that, and would not know if they saw the message... this was from Don. The post-practice session was mostly talking about the aftermath of Jeff Jackson's passing, and not one word was addressed his way. Coach Harlan let everyone go at 11:00pm. Driving to his modest residence, he noticed a car that seemed to be mimicking his route at a distance behind him. Part 10 - Sloppy Seconds "Oh yeah! Fuck me Pete!" Tanya gasped. She was sitting on the edge of her desk in her tiny Headquarters office, and Pete Feeley was standing in front of her, jamming his five inch cock up into her oozing wet twat. It was 9:30pm, and she had called him into the office just minutes before with the full intent of fucking him on her desk. "Yeah, you love those sloppy seconds, don't you baby?" Tanya asked. Pete knew she would fuck another man then have him come and fuck her while full of the other man's come. He didn't like it that she was fucking other men, but she'd found a hot button of his in that he got off like gangbusters when fucking her cream-filled cunt. Pete was stroking in hard then trying to scrape the other man's semen out of Tanya's vagina as he pulled his cockhead out of her. The sensations made Tanya's pussy burn with hot fire; she absolutely loved fucking Pete like this. "Wanna know who's cum you're squishing into my pussy?" Tanya asked, her voice playful but filled with deep lust. "Wanna know who's sloppy seconds you're fucking?
 "No." Pete said, "I just want to fuck you, baby." "It's Hicks's sperm, baby... Patrolman Hicks fucked me just minutes before I called you in here." Tanya whispered conspiratorially. Pete had seen him walking down the hall looking satisfied. "Now fuck his sperm into a hot creamy lather and add your own big load to his, baby..." she said. "It's... hard getting into you at this angle." Pete said. Tanya laid back onto her back on the desk. As Pete pulled her to the very edge of the desk and slammed his meat into her again, she groaned in pleasure. The couple fucked hard and fast for another minute, Pete finally getting deep into Tanya and getting the stimulation he needed to get his rocks off. With a loud groan, he finally shot his load, which was not as big as Patrolman Hicks' had been, Tanya realized. Still, she loved the look on Pete's face when he came inside her. "Mmm, baby, that was fantastic." Tanya said, sitting back up and kissing Pete's mouth. Just then her phone rang. "Pull your pants up." Pete did so as Tanya picked up the telephone receiver. "Perlman.... oh, hi.... yes... you do?... positive results?... yeah, great! No, I'll come by and get our copies right now, okay?... Be there in a few. Bye." "That was the University's Crime Lab." she said. "They have their reports ready for pickup. Let's go get them now; I don't want to wait until morning." "I'll take you in the black patrol car." Pete said. The black patrol car was a nearly unmarked police car with no lights on top but imbedded into the car's frame. It was used for speed traps, but was useful at night for not being easily detected as a cop car. They went to the University's Crime Lab, which was in the University Hospital's morgue in the basement. The lab technician gave them copies of the reports, having Tanya sign for them for chain-of-custody reasons that would hold up in Court. On the way back, Pete Feeley said "I think we're being followed." Tanya looked into her rear-view mirror on the passenger side. "You're right. Good catch. Want to lose them or interdict them?" "You good for a shootout?" Pete said. "Yep, I've got my vest on." Tanya said. "Me too." Pete said. Just before getting to the road in front of the Police Station, Pete suddenly wheeled the car around in a 180 degree turn, as he had learned at police "defensive driving" school. Turning on his blue lights and bright flashing strobe lights, he revved the engine and hurtled right at the car that had been following them. But the other car was quick to catch on. It was black, and the driver sped up and passed right by Feeley's car, forcing him to turn around again. By the time he was able to follow, the other car was gone. "Damn!" Pete said. "Let's go to Headquarters." Tanya said. "We've got to get these reports into the computers ASAP." Part 11 - Trigon Rules The Night Coach Erskine Marshall decided to follow the instructions in the note. He went out the backdoor and to the fence between his and his backyard neighbor's house. It was nearly midnight. The neighbor's dog came up, barking once, but calmed down after recognizing its neighbor, the coach. The dog did not impede Marshall's progress as the coach easily scaled the fence and quietly slipped through the yard to Cone Street. Down the road to his right, about 20 yards away, was an old green car, it's lights off. A platinum blonde woman was in the driver's seat. As he came up to the car, the woman said, "Coach Marshall, let's go. Quickly, please." He got in and the woman immediately started the car off and drove down the road, making sure not to go anywhere near Pine Street, the street the coach's house was on. --------------------- "Did you hear a dog bark?" Dick Ferrell said, peering into the darkness. He was sitting in the driver's seat of the car and watching Coach Marshall's house. One front bedroom light was still on. "Yeah, probably at some cat." Steven Ikea said. He was sitting in the passenger seat of the car. In clear violation of the Town & County Police Chief's orders, Ikea was helping Ferrell with the case, but for his own reasons. The Murdered Football Player Ch. 02 "I can't wait to bust this guy for drug distribution." Ikea said. "He's a buddy of that bastard De-tec-tive Don. I can't wait to shove it in Loo-tenant Don's filthy face when I tell him I've arrested his buddy on drug charges." "Yeah." Ferrell said. "Neither one of them have any idea what's about to hit 'em. We're gonna take a shit on your chief's reputation, too." "Fuck him." Ikea said. "Won't be long before the SBI brings me on, and then we can really go to town on 'em. The Lord's Justice will flow like a river and wash away the iniquities of those sinful bastards." "Hmmm, dog stopped barking, and I'm not hearing anything else." Ferrell said. "Wonder if the prick has gone to bed?..." -------------------- "Coach, my name is Detective Cindy Ross with the Town & County Police. Your friend Don asked me to pick you up. The SBI has been following you." Cindy said as she drove a circuitous route through the streets of the Town. "What's this all about?" the coach asked. "He'll tell you when we get to our destination." Cindy said. "He thinks you may be in danger." "From what?" Marshall asked, looking at the mirror to see if they were being followed. They weren't. "I have no idea." Cindy said. "It is one of my Lieutenant's quirks and perks not to share information until he's ready. We'll both probably find out when we get there." It was not long before they came to the backside of a strip mall on the west side of town. Cindy turned into the service alley behind the strip mall, which was pitch black with no lighting, and stopped in front of a door near the far end of the building. "Here we are." Cindy said, getting out of the car. She took out a key and unlocked the metal door, ushering Coach Marshall inside. They went through a dimly lighted weight room and emerged in the darkened large gym area. They were in Town Fitness Centers. "I co-own this place." Cindy said, leading Coach Marshall to the stairs accessing the offices on the second floor. "The SBI may be watching out front, but I have the keys to the back door, of course." She led the way upstairs to a darkened office and extended her hand, indicating that Marshall was to go inside. He could not see inside, but stepped over the threshold. "Trigon rules the Night!" The voice was mine. I snapped on the lamp. "Don!" Coach Marshall said. "What's going on?" "Thank you for trusting me and my fellow Detective." I said. "Have a seat, please. Cindy, get your hardbody butt in here, too." Marshall took his seat on the couch on the side wall. I was in a matching chair at a right angle to him. Cindy sat in a chair next to the door. "Coach, we don't have a lot of time, and you need some sleep." I said. "First let me ask, how do you like your current job and this team?" "Funny," Marshall said, "I was just thinking about that when your messenger bumped into me and put the note in my pocket. That was a neat trick, by the way. But to answer your question: I'm miserable here, and it hasn't worked out. Coach Harlan is not the man of integrity that Coach Richmond is at your school." Marshall added, looking wistfully ahead. "We never did get our house sold after I took this job. My wife left and took the kids back to that house in our old town. The guy that owns the house I'm renting, he refuses to take rent, and some alumnus is paying the rent, so I could walk away any time. "I called Coach Richmond, and he said he hasn't filled my old slot there, and he'll have me back... but I'm contractually obligated to stay here at least through this season. I'm going to follow my wife back home as soon as this season is over... but maybe even sooner if things keep going the way they are." "How's that?" I asked. "Harlan was very upset that I knew you when I broke up your talk with Tony." Marshall said. "And since then he's really given me the cold shoulder. It's just a weird vibe, you know what I mean?" "I sure do." I said. "And you're right to have that vibe. Were you interviewed by the SBI?" "Yeah, and boy! was that weird!" Marshall exclaimed. "This guy Ferrell, he's a real fucking asshole-- oh, excuse my language, but he is a jerk-- he was asking me about PEDs and if I had distributed them. Not a thing about Jackson, just about drugs. I find out later that no other coaches were asked about PEDs at all." I looked meaningfully over at Cindy, who acknowledged my look right back, then I turned to the coach and said "You're right about Agent Ferrell. He is with the SBI's Narcotics Task Force. He is one of the biggest assholes I have ever met, and don't excuse my language: it fits. I have watched police officers have to put a gun to that man's head, and an FBI agent beat the living shit out of Ferrell right in front of me. He is that much of a prick." I continued. "Let me explain from the beginning: several months ago, I found out that a young man, my nephew Ned who has turned into a murdering psychopath, was supplying PED's to some of the football team's students. That's a long story for later, but Ned was interdicted and moved on. I've more recently learned that Coach Gonzales has become the supplier of PEDs to the football players that choose to use them." "Jesus Christ." said Marshall. "I had no idea." "I know, which is why I'm talking to you about it now." I said. "Jeff Jackson's death has the potential to bring unwanted scrutiny upon the University and its football program. Now I don't want anything to happen to the University; hell, my wife is a professor here and I know the School is the lifeblood of this really great Town, but all this stuff swirling around could cause something to come out that a great many politicians, wealthy alumni, and others don't want to have happen." "The problem is, Coach..." I said, "I believe that if something comes out, if the shit hits the fan, then Coach Harlan and "Speedy" Gonzales are going to put the blame on you. They and Agent Ferrell are laying the groundwork right now to make you the sole scapegoat of anything that comes out, especially related to the PEDs." "Oh my God." Marshall said. "What should I do? Resign now?" "They'll use that to make it seem even more that you're guilty and that you're resigning to weasel out of blame." I said. "No, but I have an idea, Coach... if you're willing to do a couple of things to help me..." -------------------------------------- As we wrapped up our conversation, my cell phone rang. It was Tanya Perlman. "I'll be there in half an hour." I said. "Okay guys, let's head out." We went out through the same back door Cindy and Marshall and entered through. There were other cars in sight. "Cindy, drive that undercover car back home. I'll pick you up in the morning at your place. Thanks for all your work tonight." "No problem." Cindy said. After she'd backed out and left, the tail end of my police SUV could be seen at the corner of the building. Marshall and I headed to it. "Okay, Coach," I said, "sit in the backseat, and you might have to lay down for a few minutes." I headed around the side of Town Fitness Centers, which wasn't really a road, seeing the fire escape above me that led to the exit door next to Melina's office. Pulling into the parking lot, I saw what I expected to see: across the road was a black car, attempting to be hidden in the grass by a gravel inlet drive. I drove to the edge of the parking lot, then turned on my blue lights and the bright searchlight attached to the driver's door. I shined the searchlight right at the car, seeing two men squint as the light hit their eyes. As I pulled out onto the road, I shouted, "Have a good night, SBI!" Then I shut off all the lights and drove down the road towards Town. "Are you always this confrontational?" Coach Marshall said as he lay across the back seat of the SUV. "Ah, you wouldn't have it any other way, Coach." I replied with a grin. Part 12 - Fall of the Cards "I think they were SBI, but at the same time they knew exactly what to do in that situation." Tanya said. "That was a very good, professional driver." Tanya said. Pete and Tanya were sitting in my office at Headquarters, and it looked as cramped as it felt. "I'd tend to agree that they were SBI, except that the SBI doesn't have a combat driver's course nor special training for their agents." I said. "Meanwhile, one of their cars was watching Town Fitness Centers, and I lit them up with my searchlight a little while ago. They're watching us... very closely." "Why?" asked Feeley. "Tanya?" I asked. "Obviously they're making damn sure we're not doing anything related to the Jackson death." Tanya said. "But what an expense of manpower." "Exactly. Very good!" I said. As Pete and Tanya both looked at me inquiringly, I explained: "What they're doing is that they'll charge surveillance of us to the Jackson case and say it's their investigation of it. Actually not a bad way to cover up that they're not doing a damn thing on this case. So, Tanya, tell me about these University lab results." "Same drugs we found... but a bit higher level than we found. Certainly well within acceptable ranges of difference, but those prescription drugs are there. Besides Viagra and the heart rate medication, the third drug is some kind of booster: not really a performance-enhancer, it's stronger, almost like one of those drugs that horse racers use illegally to 'juice' their horses during races." "Hmmm, interesting." I said. "Okay you guys, watch this." I picked up the phone and called the copy room of the local paper, the Town & County Examiner. "Hi Julie, this is Walter with KXTC." I said, making my voice sound "light" as if I were a gay man. I'd done this before with this person named Julie; she believed I worked with the TV station. "Just wondering what your morning lead is going to be.... oh my gosh, you are so kidding me... for real?... they know that already... I'll have to get with my boss and make sure we get that... thank you so much, Julie." "Won't she know who's calling?" Tanya asked. "It'll say 'Blocked'." I said. "And KXTC phones say the same thing; they block their numbers as well. "Why did you do that?" Pete Feeley asked. "To learn what I just learned: the Examiner is going to run the story tomorrow morning that the SBI Crime Lab found no drugs in their samples of Jeff Jackson's blood." Tanya looked shocked, while Pete seemed to just absorb the information. I said. "Okay guys, you two go home and get some sleep or fuck your brains out--" I noticed Tanya and Pete glance at each other. "Oh, never mind, you've already been fucking your brains out. Get out of my office. See you in the morning." Tanya was giggling and Pete's face was crimson with blushing as they left. I smiled broadly. Everything was going to be just fine... To be continued... The Murdered Football Player Ch. 03 The chronological order of my stories to read is: Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, Case of the Executed Evangelist series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10. The Murdered Football Player, Ch. 01 Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas. This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, nor cults, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above. Part 13 - Re-Insertion "Don, there is an assistant football coach sleeping on our couch." Laura said, waking me up. "Why is there an assistant football coach sleeping on our couch?" Her voice was a falsetto, and dripping with sarcasm. We were on the back deck of The Cabin. It was now Tuesday morning. I had brought Coach Marshall home with me and let him sleep on the couch. I went to the back deck and lay down on the long patio lounge chair, covering myself with a blanket as I thought about the case and my plans. I had allowed myself to fall asleep; I often liked to doze out here on the deck at night during the warm summer months. "That would be because I haven't been able to get him back into his house yet without the SBI seeing him." I said as I woke up and stretched. "What time is it?" "Almost five." Laura said. "Wanna wake Carole up before I feed her?" "Sure." I said. Going upstairs to the bedroom, I picked Carole up out of her crib. She woke up as I talked to her, telling her what a pretty baby she was. She cooed for a couple of minutes, moving her arms and legs like the little fussbudget she was upon being awakened. Then she realized it was breakfast-time, and the "hungry cry" started. "I'll feed her up here." Laura said. "You get ready and get the Coach back home." "I'll tell you more about this later." I said, answering her silent wondering as I handed the baby to her. I did not bother to shower or change clothes; I would do that at the Station. I woke Marshall up and snuck him into the SUV. It was still dark and the gloaming dawn was not quite yet threatening us. I picked up Cindy at her apartment and we headed north to the subdivision where Coach Marshall lived. Driving up Pine Street, upon which the coach lived, I told him what to do when I distracted the SBI... whose car I could see parked across the street from his house. I pulled up right alongside, seeing Agent Ferrell in the car, and someone else lying asleep in the backseat that I could not identify. *Woop WOOP!! Woop WOOP!!* The noise of my police SUV siren blasted through the air for a second as I shined my searchlight into the face of Agent Ferrell. "Rise and shine, Ferrell! Let's go, up and at 'em!" I shouted. "It's a whole new day!" "Turn that god-damned light out of my eyes, you son of a bitch." Ferrell gasped as the noises and light hit him all at once. "C'mon Ferrell, let's go!" I said joyfully. "We're burning daylight, time to make hay as the sun starts shinin'!!" "Go fuck yourself, dickhead." Ferrell said. "Get the fuck out of here before I shoot your ass." "I wish you'd try, Ferrell." I said, my voice low and cold as I turned off the searchlight. "I'd love the chance to blow your ass away." I drove on off, leaving the stunned asshole agent blinking. Steven Ikea sat up in the backseat. "Jesus what a fucking prick he is. God's judgment upon him will surely be severe." "Yeah..." Ferrell said. He looked up and saw Coach Marshall getting into his car and cranking it. "Shit, Marshall's on the move. He got out the door to his car." Cranking his car, the Agent moved into the street to follow the coach as he drove back to the practice fields. ---------------------- "That was a nice trick." Cindy said as we drove to Headquarters. "While you were shining that light in Ferrell's face, the coach slipped out the door on my side and ran to the backyard of his house, came out the other side and got in his car. Won't those guys realize what happened?" "Not immediately." I said. "Ferrell is an idiot. Did you see who was in the backseat?" "Couldn't tell... kept his face down." Cindy replied. 
"Hmmm...." I said. ---------------------- The Chief came into the MCD room at 6:30, and the reception for him was rather cool, as the Detectives present only murmured a "good morning" in reply to his. I could tell that this affected him as he silently signaled for me to follow him into his office. "First, Captain Malone has gone to the funeral of Jefferson Jackson and is helping out the poor kid's parents with arrangements and such. So you're in charge of all Detectives while he's gone." the Chief said. "Don't let all that power go to your head." "Darn, you never let me have any fun, Chief." I said, smiling. "Yeah right. In fact, I heard you had some fun last night." the Chief said. "I don't know what the fuck you're doing, but lighting up the SBI car that was watching the gym is not exactly what I'd call professional behavior." "Yes sir." I said, and then was unable to stop myself: I added, "Chief, is it professional behavior for the SBI to be watching us, the local police, instead of working on the Jackson case like they're supposed to be doing?" Now THAT question was unprofessional, and I expected the Chief to let me have it in no uncertain terms. Chief Griswold did glare at me, but answered "No, it is not, and I'm already sorry I turned the case over to them. You'd think the media would be happy I did that, but I'm hearing that they're going to run a hit piece... on me. On ME, Lieutenant." "May I speak freely, sir?" I asked. The chief blinked. To ask to speak freely meant that I wanted to say something improper for the protocol of our respective ranks, and that if he allowed me to say it there would be no repercussions. This was something I did only on the most rare of occasions. "By all means." the Chief said, sitting back in his chair. "You're going to be even more upset in a few minutes, sir." I said. "I'm expecting the news report to tell the world that the SBI lab found no drugs or alcohol in Jackson's system, which of course is not what our lab..." I placed the file folder on the chief's desk ..." nor the University's lab found. They're whitewashing it, Chief, and yes, the Press is eagerly going to try to slam you as being responsible for letting the SBI whitewash it." The chief looked at the University report until I said, "Let's go watch the news, sir." We headed to MCD, which was full of detectives as well as Tanya and Pete. Of course, 7:00am brought the morning newscast, and I could not wait to see Bettina! "This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" said the lovely redhead reporterette. She was looking especially pretty today, practically glowing. I wondered if she'd lightened her hair color just a bit. "Channel Two News has learned that the preliminary toxicology report and preliminary autopsy performed by the SBI Crime Lab shows that there were no drugs and no alcohol in Jeff Jackson's system at the time of his unfortunate death. The SBI's medical examiner has issued a statement that he is prepared to rule Jackson's death as being due to natural causes, that Jackson suffered a heart attack sometime late Friday night." Eyes turned to the Chief, who was red-faced as he gaped at the TV set. Bettina continued: "When asked by Channel Two News reporters how Mr. Jackson ended up in a culvert at the southern County Line, SBI Public Relations Director Michael Horner said the SBI was continuing to look into the case, but that they believe Jackson was partying with friends when he had a heart attack, and that his friends panicked and left him in that ditch. The SBI says that after interviewing the football players and coaches, they do not believe any players were involved in the placement of the body in the culvert. We now go to Tim Dawdle, Channel Two Sports. What have you got, Tim?" Tim Dawdle came onto the screen, his curly black hair looking oily above his thick black-rimmed glasses, looking like the worthless young "millennial" punk that he was. "This is Tim Dawdle, KXTC Channel Two Sports. As the SBI successfully closes the case of the unfortunate death of Jeff Jackson, many questions remain. Did Jeff Jackson have a heart condition that led to his heart failure? If so, did Head Coach Brian Harlan know about this condition, but concealed it in order to have the star player on the field? Did the coach put this boy's life in danger just to win a few football games?" "That son of a--" Detective Angela Harlan said, her face as red as the chief's. I patted her shoulder to quieten her down. "In addition, we have to wonder here at KXTC Channel Two Sports why Town & County Police Chief Griswold turned jurisdiction of this case over to the SBI. While we can certainly agree that the SBI is much better equipped and their agents much more competent in solving criminal cases, we have to wonder if Chief Griswold caved in to pressure from University officials and other... politicians... to give up jurisdiction of the case. Certainly the football program is a huge money-making machine for the University and for the County, but does Chief Griswold not have the spine to investigate a case like this himself? We will continue to follow this important case as the football team prepares to take the field and play in memory of their fallen comrade, Jeff Jackson." "I think I'm going to puke." said Martin Nash, his face almost green with sickness. "That son of a bitch." the Chief said under his breath. "I'll show that pajama-boy punk what a spine is about." He left the room and we heard him shouting in the hallway. "Martha, get me Dexter Robinson on the phone!" "Don, are you okay?" Cindy asked. I was smiling and fist-pumping. "Guys....don't you see?" I asked, genuinely surprised that they did not realize what was about to happen. "This is the best thing that could possibly have happened!" When I could see that none of them had a clue, I just said "Okay, you'll see as events unfold. Meantime, load up on coffee, get your paperwork done..." I headed out the door, but turned back. "and be prepared to be re-assigned to the Jeff Jackson case!" Part 14 - Blackmail Rejected "Oh yes, fuck me!" the beautiful young woman gasped. "Shove that big cock deep inside me!" The man drove forward, burying his long, very thick cock balls-deep into her tight, sopping wet snatch. The girl was the drop-dead-gorgeous Karen Warner. She was lying on her back on Coach Harlan's desk, wearing a University cheerleader's outfit, athletic shoes and no panties. Coach Harlan was standing at the edge of his desk, his athletic pants around his knees as he pistoned his meat in and out of the gorgeous young woman. "God damn, you are the hottest fuck I've ever had!" Coach Harlan snarled as he tightened his grip on her hips and slammed into her even harder. No matter how hard he delivered his thrusts, Karen took them with pure lust and demanded more. He'd never met a woman this insatiable, and he had seduced and deeply fucked many luscious young college cuties in his years of college coaching. The office filled with the staccato slaps of flesh on flesh as the rutting couple lustily mated with raw abandon. The loud, wet squishes of Karen's juicy cunt as Harlan's cock sliced nuts-deep into her echoed around the walls. Karen moaned in pure pleasure as the older man fucked her with all the power he could muster, and it still seemed like it wasn't enough. "Unnnh!" the coach groaned as he felt the young woman's cunt clutch powerfully at his cock as her loins rippled in orgasm. Waves of pleasure had been rocking the girl's world for several minutes, and it was all the coach could do to keep from coming as he steadily pumped her. But it was a battle he was destined to lose, and he felt the tremendously pressure building, as well as pain... was climaxing supposed to hurt more as one got older? the coach thought as he felt his nut rise. "Gonna come..." he groaned, but could say no more as his impatient cock spewed the first large wad of his heavy sperm deep into Karen's quim, followed by two more bursts, then a couple of greatly diminished trickles. Along with the pleasing lassitude of his release, the lingering slight pain continued. "What's the matter, Coach?" Karen said, noting the grimace on Harlan's face. "It hurts when I come." he said. "You better see a doctor." she said. "Get that checked out." She pushed herself up to a sitting position as the coach released her shapely legs from the confinement of his muscular arms. "Yeah, I should--" He was interrupted by his phone buzzing; it was his administrative assistant. "Coach, there is a Campus Police Officer here to see you." the secretary said. "A Lieutenant--" "Shit." breathed the coach. "Karen, go out that back door." "Bye, baby." she said, giving him a quick kiss on the mouth as she hopped off the desk and exited out the side door. ------------------------ I walked into Coach Harlan's office and my nose immediately told me that sex with a woman had been going on moments before. My eyes saw a clear spot in the middle of the coach's desk, many plaques, medals and citations on the walls of the office and in the glass-windowed cabinet on the far side. Behind the desk was a large photo of Coach Harlan's team when he played college football, a team that had won a National Championship. "Have a seat, Lieutenant." the coach said, sitting down in his chair behind his desk. I observed him. He was wearing athletic clothing (duh) and his face looked a bit flushed. As his rump hit the chair I caught the merest grimace on his face. "Lieutenant," he started, "I thought that you local police were taken off the case." "Coach, I'm not here about the Jackson case." I said. "I'm here about another very urgent matter. Do you know who this person is?" I held up my iPhone, the picture of Ned filling the screen. "Uhh..." the coach said, "I really think I should not be talking to you without a lawyer present." "Coach, look." I said, trying to sound persuasive. "I'm not here to get you in any trouble. Let me further say that I have no desire at all to bring any problems to this University or to your football program. My wife is a professor at this School and I know the importance of the School and the athletic programs to my Town." "I'm glad to hear that." the coach said, though his face looked unmoved. "This guy here," I said, speaking of Ned, "has murdered several people, kidnapped little children, and has made and sold some extremely harmful drugs... and I'm not talking about puny stuff like cocaine or weed, either. I know that he was making and selling PEDs to some of your players last year-- now you might not have known about that, and I am not the least bit interested if you knew or not. But he is a very dangerous person, and if my information is correct that he was here and talking to you, you yourself might be in danger. No matter what, I need to get this killer off the streets, and I want your help to do it." "Ah shit..." the Coach said, his face a reflection of the dilemma he was in. "Look, it's not that I don't want to help you find that bag of shit," he meant Ned when he said that, "but I really cannot say anything to any cop with this Jackson case over our heads right now. So I have to reiterate that I want a lawy--" The front door to the coach's office had opened and I felt as much as saw someone come in. It was Karen Warner. She was not wearing the cheerleader outfit, but a very tight, clingy dress and high heel sandals that shaped and showed off her lovely feet, legs and ass. "Go ahead, Coach..." she said as she shut the door and leaned against it. "Tell the Lieutenant what he needs to know. I'm sure he'll understand if you only discuss 'hypothetical' situations that never actually happened." I looked at the coach as he considered, then said "Speaking purely hypothetically?" "Absolutely." I said. "Okay," said Coach Harlan, "if hypothetically that young punk came into this office a few weeks ago and demanded blackmail money or he'd expose the use of PEDs on my football team, I would've thrown his ass out immediately and told him never to come back. Hypothetically, of course." I nodded as Coach Harlan continued "And hypothetically, if that punk were to into this office last Sunday afternoon and say I needed to wise up and give him cash or other players like Jeff Jackson would end up dead, then hypothetically I would have punched the punk bastard in the mouth as hard as I could, knocking him across the floor and halfway unconscious, and then I would hypothetically have told him to get out of my office, and that if he ever was seen on campus again I would have my players beat the shit out of him until he was dead." "And hypothetically," I said, "he would run out the door with his bloody nose." "He might hypothetically say 'You'll be sorry for this.' as he left." Harlan said. "I don't suppose you've discussed this hypothetical situation with the SBI?" I asked. "Hell no." Harlan said. "You think I'm that stupid?" "No, Coach." I said. "I don't think you're stupid at all, but I do need to tell you this: this guy Ned has committed murder before and would have no compunction about doing so again. I will discreetly get a photo of him to you so that you can show all of your coaches and members of the sports teams, and if any of them see this guy, you need to call me immediately. Don't fuck around with him; he is a fucking rattlesnake, except you won't hear a rattle before he strikes." "Coach Harlan can take care of himself." said Karen Warner, her voice cutting through the air. "I think it's time for you to get out of here and start searching for that punk." I marveled at how this nineteen-year-old girl was taking command and ordering both me and the coach around. As I got up, I said, "Oh, I apologize for breaking up your sexual tryst a few minutes ago." The coach blinked and Karen looked daggers at me as she opened the door for me. "By the way, Coach," I said as I got to the door, "this girl really is out of your league." I grinned as I exited, noticing out of the corner of my eyes that Karen was rolling her eyes as she threw the door shut behind me. ------------------------------- "Jesus Christ." Harlan said. "What the fuck are we going to do now?" "Take it easy, baby." Karen said, coming over to Harlan as he sat in his chair. She climbed onto him, straddling him, her feet resting on the inside of his muscular thighs. "It's all good. Now why don't you fuck me again..." she said as their lips met in a deep, hungry kiss. "Before we do, I have to make a phone call." Harlan said. "That bastard Lieutenant is going to wish he never came in here and insulting us with his insinuations..." -------------------------------- As I got back to my car, I silently reproached myself for going alone to talk to Harlan. If Karen Warner had had a gun, she would have had the drop on me and easily could have shot me dead before I knew she was there. I resolved to have 'protection' at all times, in the form of a fellow Detective... Part 15 - Stepping Out of Bounds It was just after 11:00am when I returned to Headquarters. I stopped at the duty desk and had the Desk Sergeant put out an APB on my nephew Ned, which stated that he had been sighted on the University Campus within the last 48 hours. Taking a printed copy of that, I walked down the hall, and was met by Angela Harlan. The Murdered Football Player Ch. 03 "Lieutenant, the Chief said he wanted to see you the minute you came in." she said, having learned and not even let me get TO the door before telling me. "Thank you, Angela." I said, and strode to the Chief's office suite. In the anteroom, his assistant Martha looked at me and spoke in the tone of a warning: "He's not a happy man, Lieutenant." "Thank you Martha." I said as she pointed to the door, inviting me to go in. Once inside the Chief's office, I saw him at his desk, writing something. On the sofa to one side of the desk was University Police Commissioner Dexter Robinson, looking severely at me. I stood between the two chairs in front of his desk, as if at attention, but looking at him. Looking up briefly from his papers, the Chief said "Stand at ease, Lieutenant." I clasped my hands behind my back, noting that the Chief had not invited me to sit down. I was in trouble. "Lieutenant," the Chief said after a few seconds, his eyes on the papers on his desk, "I thought my instructions, which I stated at least twice, were extremely clear: that you were not to work on the Jackson case." "Yes sir, they were." "Then why were you in Coach Harlan's office this morning, interrogating him?" The Chief looked up from under his eyelids without raising his head. "And don't even try to bullshit me that you weren't talking about the case." It was clear that Harlan had made some calls and had lied about the nature of our conversation. Something I would remember for the future. But right now I had to choose my words carefully and make sure that the first words I said stopped the Chief from his plan of interrupting me with a severe ass-chewing, if not more. "Ned, sir. My nephew Ned." I said, and it worked. The Chief opened his mouth but arrested himself, gaping up at me. "I was interviewing Coach Harlan about Ned being in his office less than 48 hours ago." I said, handing him the APB. "I just put this APB out. Ned is in the area, sir." "So you weren't talking about the Jackson case, but..." the Chief said, then broke down. "Shit, sit down, Crowbar. I can't stay mad at you even when I try." I sat down and Dexter Robinson came over and sat in the chair next to me as the Chief said "State Senator Nathan Allen and SBI Deputy Director Conlan both called me and said Harlan complained to them that you were in his office talking about the Jackson case." "No sir, it was about Ned, I didn't even bring up Jackson in any way." I said. "Lying motherfuckers." the Chief said under his breath. "I apologize, Crowbar. I should've known to trust you and not that lying sack of shit Nathan Allen. Okay, so how did you know to even ask about Ned?" "I developed some information before your moratorium that Ned was blackmailing Coach Harlan and first visited the coach a few weeks ago." I said, which was true as football player Tony had told me that. I decided not to mention my conversation with Teddy Franklin, for obvious reasons. "Coach Harlan told me in an 'off the record' way that Ned had returned Sunday and demanded more blackmail money." I continued. "What's he blackmailing the coach over?" Commissioner Robinson asked. "PED use by the football team." I said. "Then Ned tried to imply that he was behind the Jackson death, and Coach Harlan punched him in the face and threw him out." "Do.. do you think Ned was behind Jeff Jackson's death? We're not even sure it's a murder, by the way." the Chief said. "I think it was murder, sir." I said, "But... if you ask me if Ned was behind it, I don't have any idea... yet." I said. The 'yet' was meant to get the Chief's attention that I understood, and it did. He glared up at me, but then his glance softened. "All right." he said. "Dexter, I can't hide a damn thing from this guy. Don, Dexter and I haven't decided officially yet, but we're going to start pushing back against the SBI, particularly about the lab results. I am not going to let my people be made fools of and lied about. Now get out of here and see if you can get a lead on your punk nephew. I'm going to call Conlan and smooth things over with him, but as far as I'm concerned Nathan Allen can stew in his own farts." "Yes sir." I said. ---------------------------- "So, what is your dream scenario?" Paulina Patterson asked. She was sitting behind her desk, leaning back in the chair with her feet propped up on the desk. I was sitting in front of the desk, leaning back myself, facing sideways to her. Only that desk stood in the way of the sexual tension between us. Paulina was wearing a salmon jacket and pants, salmon high heel pumps and a white blouse unbuttoned halfway down her chest. Her breasts and ass nicely filled out the suit, and it was all I could do to resist the deep temptations to take her and fuck her right this minute. I suspected she felt the same way from the looks she was giving me. Her eyes bore into me, signaling her desire to take my white cock deep inside her black vagina...and to host my seed in the depths of her womanhood. Alas, we had business to do. "My dream scenario would be to be to have a warrant to access the phone records of all the coaches on Friday night and Saturday morning. I would also like to have records of University alumni and benefactors, especially the big one." Paulina shook her head. "No way Mr. Wargrave would allow any phones in his own name to be accessed like that." She was right, I realized. "Well, coaches, players, alumni in the area, maybe the Lake Ocheekobee Country Club." I said. "So you think it happened there?" Paulina asked. I nodded. "Well, I'll just say this." she continued. "It's a sensitive time for all of us. Not only can you not help on the case, but we've been told we can't request any warrants on this case unless the SBI asks for them. So far, they have not requested one single warrant for anything." "As to the phone records," she said, "even should you develop probable cause, we're going to have to be a lot more specific in the persons whose records we ask for." "What about that other warrant I asked you for? The sting operation." I said. "I took your advice and didn't present that one to Judge Folsom, but to Judge Watts. He approved it with surprisingly little discussion." Paulina said. "I think he's beginning to get pissed at all the political crap that's going on. He did say to carefully document each and every step of the operation..." ----------------------- "Cindy, how's your golf game?" I asked at 12:30. As I expected, she glanced up at me with that strange and inquiring look on her face. "Okay, I guess." she said, leaving off the 'Why?' for the moment, but looking at me with the question clearly in mind. "Britt and I think you should come with us and get a round in." I said. Britt Maxwell was right behind me and we were both dressed for golf. "We were thinking about the Lake Ocheekobee Golf Course. I hear it's in excellent shape this time of year." "Well, in that case, count me in." Cindy said, fully understanding. ---------------------- "They're booked full for today." Britt said after checking with the desk. "I told them we'd wait for a little while to see if there was a cancellation and get something to eat at the bar." "Excellent." I said. I was hoping that would be the case. We sat at a table in the bar and lounge area. It was the main room of the Country Club, with cheap wood paneling from the 1970s, and adorned with pictures of the course and past players and Club presidents on the walls. Surprisingly, we were the only ones eating. We could see through the sliding glass doors the swimming pool area, where some mothers tanned while their kids splashed in the pool. Behind the pool were the tennis courts, which were not being used at this moment. A young man, college-aged, was behind the counter of the bar. He had black hair, was of medium height and slender. The name on his nameplate was "Tommy". After observing him, I told the ladies I'd talk to him first, and then Britt would come over in a few minutes and flirt with him for follow up. "Hi there." I said as I came up to the counter and sat down. "How's business? I'm a little surprised no one else is here." "Oh, business is good." the kid said. "Golfers are all out playing, and the mother's usually don't buy anything when they have kids here. It's the hot part of the day, but we'll have a rush later this afternoon." "I see." I said. "By the way, Tommy, my name is Don." I said, introducing myself. "I'm surprised how clean this place is, wasn't there a party Friday night?" "Uh, yeah." Tommy said. "I helped work it, but, er... I really can't say more about it." "Ohhhhh... yeah." I said, as if I'd made a huge mistake. "Yeah, I understand. I shouldn't have brought it up. Alumni, football players... my mistake, sorry about that." "That's all right." Tommy said. "You obviously know. You weren't here?" "No, I had another function to attend." I said. "Oh by the way, is that a rune on your necklace?" I was changing the subject to keep Tommy off guard. "Yeah." Tommy said. "I went to some of the seminars run by The Vision. Their national headquarters is right up the road. I went to one of their summer camps, and they gave us the rune when we completed it." "I see." I said. "Very nice. So," I dropped my voice as I spoke, "the Friday party, it went well?" "Uh, well, there was a problem." the kid said. "I was outside and something happened in one of the back rooms. A woman came out, naked except for a towel, and when her husband wouldn't go inside with her she screamed at him, really making a scene. A few minutes later some alumni came back outside and hustled all the players back onto their buses, then told me to go home and not say anything-- you know, I really shouldn't say anything else." "That's okay," I said quietly. "I heard about the football player that died, that it was here, but I understand if they told you to keep it quiet." "I never saw anything that happened inside," the kid said, " but they watched me leave and go home." "Where's home?" I asked. "Oh, I'm a student at the University. I live in New Dorm on campus." "You didn't recognize any of the players or alumni, did you?" I said. "Sure don't want their names getting out." "Nick Eastwood, the quarterback of the football team, he was here, and Jeff Jackson, the starting tight end, were the only ones I recognized." he said. "What did you serve at the party?" I asked. "Food-wise, drink-wise?" "Sandwiches, chicken fingers, stuff like that. But I wasn't in charge of the food, I was in charge of making up the bowl of punch." Tommy said. "No, no alcohol was in it, people had to add that themselves to suit their tastes. I just make up several gallons of the punch all at once, then poured them into the punch bowl to keep it filled as the night went on." "So it was all the same batch of punch?" I asked. "Yes sir." "Did they drink a lot of the punch?" I asked. "Pretty good bit, they always do." he said. "And some of them do spike it." I had given Britt a signal, which Tommy couldn't see, to come join me. "Hi handsome," she said. "So you're a university student?" "Yeah." Tommy said. "You know, you look familiar, have we met?" "No, I don't think so," Britt said, "but were you working one of these parties I came to?" I got up and returned to the table with Cindy as Britt continued to talk to Tommy. "Ah, I may have been." Tommy said. "You were probably... entertaining one of the football players, so I didn't get a chance to speak to you. Too bad, I'd have loved to get your number." "Oh, I'll bet you say that to all the ladies." Britt said. "But aren't they busy with the players?" "Sure, but sometimes I get in a word with them, and sometimes I get a date." Tommy said. "So, what do you say, want to get together for a drink sometime?" "Oh, maybe." Britt said. Just then a very pretty college-age girl came into the room, wearing a light yellow golf shirt, light yellow tight short pants, and athletic shoes. I saw irritation flash in her eyes as she saw Tommy flirting with Britt at the bar, but she composed herself and walked up. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but all of our reservations have checked in." she said. "It will be at least an hour." "That's okay," I said, walking back up. "And your name is..." "I'm Candy." the pretty girl said. Her hair was dark, her mouth luscious. Her eyes were brown and normally should be bright... but I felt as I looked into them that there was a shadow behind them. "So you two are dating, I see?" I said. They both gaped, then Tommy said "How did you know that?" "Oh, it's easy to spot young love this time of year." I said, then to Britt "Isn't that right, my dear?" "Oh absolutely." Britt said, "And you're such a gorgeous couple." "Aw, thank you." Candy said sweetly and happily, relaxing a bit now that her claim to her man was no longer being challenged by the beautiful Britt Maxwell. "Ah, I see by your runes that you've been to a couple of The Vision's camps." I said to Candy. "Is that where you two met?" "Yes, it is." Candy said. "Are you a student at the University, also?" I asked. "Yes, but I'm on an internship with The Vision for this coming semester." Candy said. Was that just the slightest frown on her face as she said that? I wondered as she continued. "Helps with school expenses. I'm staying at their headquarters in one of their dorm rooms, so it's a much closer drive to get here." "I see." I said, thinking of an exit strategy, but I was saved when a very tall young black man came in. "Sir, we just had a cancellation." he said. "I can fit the three of you in now." "Great!" I said. "Would you excuse us?" We really had brought clubs and we played nine holes. The golf course was excellent, in as great a shape as we'd heard it was. And despite her modesty of her abilities, Cindy Ross smoked Britt and myself like cheap cigars with her play. Part 16 - Reversal of Fortune At 6:00pm a large number of Detectives assembled in the MCD room to watch the news. I had forewarned everyone to expect something big. "This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" cried the reporterette at the top of the hour, looking as fresh and energetic as if she'd taken a two week vacation. "We have bombshell revelations tonight in the death of Jefferson Jackson! Channel Two News has learned that the Town & County Crime Lab results showed prescription medications and alcohol in Jackson's system, and that a confirmation test run by the University Police's Training Crime Lab also showed these drugs! This completely contradicts a report from the SBI crime lab that there were no drugs or alcohol in Jackson's system at the time of his death. "Town & County Police Chief Griswold and University Police Commissioner Robinson issued a joint statement supporting their labs' findings. Chief Griswold issued a statement saying 'The chain of custody of the samples, including those distributed to the University and the SBI, will stand up in any court of law. Furthermore, I have full confidence in the laboratory work and results of my Force as well as the University's, and that the results of our tests are valid. As the SBI's results are the ones that are different, I believe that any discrepancies and errors must lie with the SBI and that any questions pertaining to their erroneous results should be directed to the SBI.'" "Commissioner Robinson suggested in a statement that the FBI should be brought in to examine the procedures used by the SBI, and that he would be willing to have his labs undergo the same examination by the FBI, so confident is he that his labs do correct and good work." Bettina continued, a bright smile on her face... this was a BIG story, and she knew it: "Asked why their results are not in line with the other labs, the SBI has been scrambling, putting out several different statements. Agent Richard Ferrell of the SBI Narcotics Task Force suggested that the Town & County Police provided the SBI with contaminated or false sample, but this was contradicted by SBI Deputy Director Tom Conlan, who is presently in the County overseeing the Jackson investigation. "Deputy Director Conlan said that he does not dispute the results of the other labs nor the samples given to the SBI, and that he is investigating the matter further but will not issue any further statements until his internal investigation is complete. The supervisor of the SBI Crime Lab has declined to give a statement, nor would he appear for an on-camera interview with Channel Two News. "The drugs in the lab tests appear to be prescription drugs, and all tests confirm that there were no illegal drugs in Jeff Jackson's system, ruling that out as a cause of death. However, Channel Two News has learned that Jefferson Jackson was monitored as a youth for potential heart problems, though years of examinations pronounced him fit to play sports. We will break in with any new information. This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" Everyone was clapping and cheering as the newscast went forward. Just then, Chief Griswold appeared at the back door to the MCD room. "All Detectives, Classroom J. Five minutes." As we scrambled and got down to Classroom J, my personal cell phone rang. It was my wife Laura. "You and I have been invited to a small reception at Dr. Wellman's home tonight." Laura said. "The Chief and his wife will be there, as will Deputy Director Conlan and your friend Henry R. Wargrave and his wife." "Ah, fun fun." I said, knowing exactly what this was going to be about. "Darling.... they are pissed." Laura warned me. "I'm wearing what I wore to work today, but you might want to wear something that throws your two medals in their faces." By that, Laura meant I should wear a uniform where the rectangle ribbons representing the Medal of Valor and Purple Order were prominently displayed. "Wilco. Thanks, honey, we've got a big meeting, so I've got to go. By the way, can you do one more thing for me?..." ---------------------- Walking into Classroom J with Captain Malone, the Chief's voice boomed out. "The duty desk just gave me a message that some activity has been spotted in the area where Jefferson Jackson's body was found. Senior Detective Ikea, I want you and Detective Harlan to drive down there and check it out. It may be nothing, it may be sightseers trying to see where the body was found, or it may be some drug deal going down." Captain Malone added "Have a car with two uniformed officers follow you. We've had reports of drugs being brought over the County line down there. If you find anything going on, call for backup, you hear?" "Yes sir." Steven Ikea said. He moved out swiftly enough, but Angela Harlan followed a bit more slowly, surprised that she'd been assigned to go, and not wanting to miss this meeting. "Go ahead, Angela." I said, to get her moving; I was now on a tight timetable. "I'll fill you in on this meeting later." She scooted out. "Secure that door." the Chief said as he took the podium to a silent, totally attentive audience. "Ladies and Gentlemen, if I were perfect, I would run for God." Chief Griswold started. "But I am not perfect, and that was shown to me the other day. I made a very grave mistake in giving up jurisdiction of the Jackson case to the SBI." Not a soul moved or drew breath. "I thought that I was doing what was in your best interests." the Chief continued, "However, you have been subjected to totally unwarranted jeers and attacks by an SBI that, as Miss Ross so astutely put it, 'can't find water in a swimming pool'. And their incompetence has been clearly shown in their worthless lab work. They have smeared our good reputations while showing that their own reputation is one of worthless incompetence." The Murdered Football Player Ch. 03 "So I apologize to each and every one of you for my mistake, and for you having to endure the consequences of that mistake. I also owe the parents of Jefferson Jackson an apology for allowing the investigation of their son's death to be run so poorly, and I want you, Captain Malone, to convey that apology to them on my behalf." Malone nodded. "Folks, I cannot undo the damage and take back jurisdiction from the SBI. But I can release you from the moratoriums of not working on the case. Provided that you not interfere with the SBI's investigation, and provided that you share any information you find with your superior officers and with me, which will be shared with the SBI in as timely a manner as possible, you may now investigate leads pertaining to the Jackson case. Okay, that's all, I know you have work to finish up, and the Iron Crowbar and I must now endure the wrath of that news report you just saw tonight." "Everyone, stay here." I said as Griswold and Malone left the room. Once they were gone, I addressed the group, as was my duty. "Ladies and gentlemen," I said, "when I was in the Army, there was an old adage that a general never publicly apologizes for a mistake. What Chief Griswold did tonight to openly admit a mistake and apologize for it was not only an act of courage on his part, but it shows how much he has our backs. Every decision he makes, and there are many big ones, are with you in mind. He isn't perfect, none of us are, but he is behind us all the way, no matter what appearances are. And he just showed you how much he respects each and every one of you by apologizing to you the way he just did. I hope you understand what it took for him to do that, and he did it because he respects you." "I'll just finish up with this: I don't know how long we will have Chief Griswold with us, he's nearing a well-deserved retirement. I am afraid that some of you will not realize just how lucky we are to have that man as our chief until he has retired and is no longer working with us. Please bear that in mind tonight and every day as you continue your duties in the incredibly wonderful and professional manner that you always do. MCD, you're dismissed. Vice, check with Captain Malone before bugging out." ---------------------------------- "So why do you think they sent me along with you on this ride?" Angela Harlan asked as Steven Ikea drove down the main highway towards County Road 2, just trying to start a conversation on what had been a silent ride to this point. "I don't know." Ikea said, "but I just follow the Captain's orders. Why do you think they did?" "Because I'm the football coach's cousin." Angela said. Ikea nodded; he had not thought of that, though it was obvious to Angela from the moment she was assigned the case. "How does that make you feel?" Ikea asked. He was realizing he might have an inroad into 'turning' Detective Harlan to his side. He'd love to get her in Vice and that weirdo Sergeant Sharples out of Vice. "It's understandable." Angela said. "I've been here less than a month and my cousin is the head football coach." "Yeah, but if they hired you, they should trust you." Ikea said. "If they don't, then maybe you should come over to Vice, we're a rock-solid group." "Oh really?" Angela said. That had not been what she had observed. "What kind of guy is Captain Malone?" "He's good, damn good." Ikea said. "And he trusts, trains, and takes care of his people, too. He always has my back." "What about you, Steven?" Angela asked, deciding to probe Ikea hard, "You haven't been promoted yet, and Don was promoted ahead of you." "I can't help it if Loo-tenant Don is the Chief's favorite." Ikea said. "Captain Malone is working on getting me my rightful promotion. It won't be long before God's Justice is meted out to those who have been given more than they deserve, and those of us that deserve better receive His blessings." "I'll tell you this, Harlan." Ikea said. "I've heard you were a good Detective in Texas, and I think you could have a real future with us. But next year, it gets dicey. There's going to be a Sheriff election as well as the Town & County Council up for re-elections. I'm hearing that some of them want Loo-tenant Don to run against Captain Malone. If Malone wins, you could go a long way with us. If Don wins, then you'll be sitting at the same desk for a long, long time." "I'll make a bet with you, Steven: that Don won't run. Whaddya say?" "Betting is a sin." Ikea said. "But you might be right, I don't insist upon it. Just keep in mind that you want to get on the right side of things now, before all the fun begins. Wait until too late, and if you're on the wrong side, it'll be ugly." "I'll keep that in mind." Angela said, as Ikea turned onto County Road 2. "By the way, are you close with your cousin, the football coach?" Ikea asked. "We get along. Why?" Angela asked. "I'm sure he's a good man." Ikea said. "But some SBI agents that are my friends have told me privately that while they think your cousin is a good man, at least one of his coaches may be giving some players drugs. You might want to let your cousin know and to keep his eyes peeled." "Any idea who the bad coach is?" Harlan asked. "The strength and conditioning coach. Marshall." Ikea said. "Keep this under your hat, as a measure of our mutual trust, that a warrant will be coming out for a search for PEDs soon." "Thanks for the info." Angela said. "Here's where the body was found, you can see the police tape." Ikea stopped the car. There was no one around. Getting out of the car, they looked around for fresh tire prints or footprints. The two uniformed officers that had been following them also looked around, finding nothing. "Red herring." Angela said. "Looks like a false report, anyway." said Ikea. "I don't think Captain Malone would send me on a wild goose chase." Angela said nothing. ------------------------ Part 17 - Standing Ground Going into University President Wellman's home with our wives, Chief Griswold and I were dressed in our "duty dress" uniforms; navy blue pants with piping down the side, the Chief's yellow and mine light blue, white shirts and black ties, and navy blue uniform jackets with our badges over the left breast above the pocket and the metal-outlined ribbons of the Medals of Valor and Purple Orders, upon which we'd both been bestowed, over our nameplates. The reception consisted of the Wellmans as hosts, myself, my wife Laura, Chief Griswold and his wife, Commissioner Robinson and Cpt. Britt Maxwell, Mr. and Mrs. Henry R. Wargrave, Mayor Larry Vaughn and his wife, and, to the surprise of most, Lieutenant Daniel Allgood and his lovely girlfriend Melina. Commissioner Robinson was a widower, so it was natural that he and the unattached Britt Maxwell attend together. They both wore their Campus Police uniforms, having been forewarned by Laura. Daniel Allgood also wore his "duty dress" uniform. No one from the SBI was present; Deputy Director Conlan had sent his regrets. No one present had any problem with that. After some minutes of small talk, Sally Wellman took the wives into another room, where they would flutter like parakeets about something or other until our business was done. The rest of us went into what was called the library. I'd been in this room before with politicos breathing down my neck, and was prepared for this evening as well. "You know, Henry," Dr. Wellman said, "I feel improperly dressed around all these police uniforms. We need to design suits of our own to match them." "Yes, Dr. Wellman, but they've earned those uniforms... and the medals on them." Henry Wargrave said. I knew there was an underlying message in that praise, but didn't care to parse it with Mr. Wargrave now; he was too dangerous a man to fuck with, and his intent would become clear in time. No one quite knew why Daniel Allgood was there as I made the point of introducing him to those who didn't know him. I waxed poetic on his story with the Midtown Police, of refusing bribes and evading assassination attempts, leading to high-level medals, accolades and ultimately the I.A. job with us and his subsequent promotion. Daniel blushed as he accepted the praise of the University representatives Wellman and Wargrave... he wasn't sure why he was here, either. "It's my job to keep an eye on this guy." he said, meaning me. "Fortunately, it's not too hard of a job." "Just keep him intact." Mr. Wargrave said. "He keeps getting in front of speeding bullets, and he is not faster than them." Hmm, another little message for me? We sat down in a circle of chairs that had been placed for us, President Wellman at the left from the view of the door. To my surprise, I was asked to sit to his immediate right while Henry Wargrave sat to his left. The Chief was next to me, followed by Britt Maxwell, Commissioner Robinson and finally Daniel Allgood. "Gentlemen," Dr. Wellman said, "I appreciate you coming tonight. I was hoping that Mr. Conlan would also be here, so that we could work out ways for the SBI and the local police departments to work better together. The Media has had a field day, an absolute orgy over these reports of the differing lab results. While I understand your desire not to be made fools of, Chief, Commissioner, we just cannot have that kind of issue in public. It undermines the trust of the people in the SBI as well as all of you." "It also causes the University's alumni and friends to become very agitated." said Henry Wargrave. "They are deeply concerned that unwanted attention could be detrimental to the University. We all regret and mourn young Jeff Jackson's death, but rumors that it is something that it's really not are harmful and cannot be easily dispelled. I'm sure you understand, Don?" That was my opening, it was my turn now. And I did what I needed to do. "Mr. President," I said, addressing Dr. Wellman more directly than just to the group. "I want you to know that I have come to love this Town and County since coming here a year ago. In addition, I have no desire to see any harm come to the University nor its athletic programs. I am extremely fortunate to be married to one of the School's most celebrated professors, and I also understand the importance and value of the University and its athletic programs to the Town and County." Wellman nodded. I continued. "Having said that... last Sunday I had to speak with a woman who drove through the night to get here and whose eyes were red from crying because her 20-year-old son was found dead and dumped in a ditch. The University and its football program will continue on no matter what, but Jeff Jackson's life will not continue. It is my job and my duty to seek justice for Jeff Jackson, and to be able to tell his grieving parents what happened to end their son's life. It does not matter to me what else happens, I will not back down from the pursuit of the Truth." President Wellman stood up and offered his hand. I stood up and shook it. "I agree with you, young man, and you have my total support on that, no matter what the results may be." Henry Wargrave also stood up and shook my hand, but I knew that Dr. Wellman's gesture and words and been sincere, but Wargrave's were much less so. After some more talk about how to deal with the Media, the reception began to disperse. As we were in the hallway waiting for our wives, Commissioner Robinson surprised me by coming alongside me and putting his arm around me. "Son," he said quietly, "what you did in there was the best thing in the world, and not because of this case, but for the future. You just may have saved this Town and County from years of corruption going forward. You are the man to fight this battle, and now everyone is totally sure of it." "Thank you, Commissioner." I said, knowing that Dexter Robinson's vision had been as far as mine. Part 18 - Taking Sides The evening was not over. Back at Headquarters the Chief convened a meeting in the main conference room that consisted of Cindy Ross, Martin Nash, Tanya Perlman, Britt Maxwell, and myself. Pizzas had been brought in, courtesy of the Chief, and eagerly consumed. "I just have two things tonight." said the Chief. "First of all, there is no doubt in my mind that the SBI is going to retaliate for what happened today. When SBI DD Conlan doesn't even bother to show up to a reception given by the University President... well, you don't need the Iron Crowbar to know something is going to go down." "Second, and speaking of the Iron Crowbar, Don, I want you to give this trusted group whatever info you have and whatever you're theorizing, whether or not we yet have facts to back the theories up." "Martin," I asked, "did you and the I.T. techs get those cameras installed?" "Yes sir." said Detective Nash. "They're transmitting data to Myron right now." "Fantastic." I said. "First, everyone, Martin and I have already taken steps for what I think the SBI's retaliation will be. If they do what I expect, then I am going to snare them in a trap and then I will hang them by their balls. So don't worry or panic about anything you hear happening tomorrow." "Second, this is what I believe happened timeline-wise, based upon scraps of discussions, with little evidence to back it up, but here goes: On Friday night, Jefferson Jackson was one of about a dozen or more football players to attend a secret party with University alumni at the Lake Ocheekobee Country Club in Coltrane County. This is the kind of party where money changes hands, and where the wives of the alumni give sex to the players. This happens at every major university in the Nation, and it is what it is. However, last Friday night while at this party, Jeff Jackson was having sex with a woman and something happened, and Jeff Jackson died. "It may have been just a heart attack, though I have some reason to believe foul play." I continued. "At any rate, the alumni there panicked. They got the players on the buses that brought them and sent them on their way, then sent the club's waiters home. After that, some of the alumni took Jackson's body and clothes and dumped them in the ditch in Coltrane County. Then, some time after that, someone else came along and moved the body into our County. That move was observed by Mr. Colburn, who called the police and we found the body. Meanwhile, the Coltrane County Sheriff was called in to find the body, only to find it had been moved... and out of his jurisdiction. "This created a dilemma for those alumni. I believe they called in someone who attempted to clean up the problem, someone who's thugs ended up murdering the Coltrane County Sheriff to get Jackson's clothes. This 'Mr. Cleanup' also had to get us off the case, and to that end worked with alumni and University officials and politicians to have the case taken over by the SBI. "In their zeal to get this case cleaned up, the elements of the SBI assigned to make this problem go away probably didn't even bother to run the samples we sent them, but just declared nothing was found. However, that caused a backlash when our lab results and the University's results came up positive for prescription drugs and alcohol. And now, by not simply dealing with the evidence and the facts, these guys have even bigger problems on their hands." "I have discovered that my psychopath nephew Ned has been seen on the University campus in the last couple of days, and I've put out an APB to be on the lookout for him. I don't know for sure if he is involved in Jackson's death, but he was attempting to conduct a blackmailing operation over the death, an attempt which was rebuffed. That tells me that Ned is not only still in this area, but that he needs money. Hopefully these facts will guide us to finding out where he is... and bringing him to Justice." No one in the room misunderstood what I meant by bringing Ned 'Justice'... and that it did not mean simply arresting him. "As to getting proof for any of this, that is what I intend to work on tomorrow morning, along with making sure the SBI doesn't try to save their own useless reputations by destroying the reputations of innocent persons. Chief?" 
 "All right, folks, no questions." said the Chief. "Be here tomorrow morning ready to kick some ass tomorrow. We'll be playing it by ear, and I'd rather you be doing that after getting some sleep." --------------------------- It was well after midnight when I trudged back to The Cabin. Laura was still awake, wearing a hot peach teddy and reading a book in bed by lamplight. As I began to undress, I went over to the crib and looked at Carole, who was sleeping peacefully. Once again, I thanked God and the Universe that her mother and I had conceived such a wondrous and wonderful little being. Laura was watching me as I admired my daughter and then turned to her. "Hi Beautiful. You waited up?" I asked. "Yes." she replied. "I thought we might talk for a few minutes... and that you might need a release after such a hard day." "I certainly could." I said, stripping naked, letting Laura watch me. She lay back and spread her legs as I approached the bed. Easing onto it, I mounted my beautiful wife, leaving her teddy on. I began dryhumping her as we shared kisses, sliding my hardening cock up and down her wet slit. "Mmmm, that feels good." she said. As I gently pistoned my cock back and forth, letting the shaft slide along her slit, wetting my cock down as it grew longer, thicker and harder, she asked, "What I wanted to know was, why did you ask me to have Daniel and Melina invited to Wellman's reception?" I slid my hands under Laura's shoulders as I settled into a smooth rhythm of dryfucking, enjoying the feeling of her labes sliding along her slit but not penetrating her. This teasing kind of sex really made my wife hot and I enjoyed doing it to her. I kissed her mouth deeply, then nuzzled her neck. "Oh yeah," I whispered into her ear as I nuzzled her neck. "First, I wanted Melina to meet some of the ladies. I'm sure you enjoyed introducing her." "Oh yes, I did." Laura replied as I felt her hands sliding through the hair on the back of my head. We kissed again as I dryhumped her harder, feeling her legs spread a little bit more then wrap around me. "I also wanted Daniel to get used to these receptions." I said. "He's going to be moving up with us over time, and I want them to get to know him." "Oh, is that all?" Laura said, knowing there was more. We continued to make out, the heat of our shared kisses as I continued dryhumping her making me rabid with lust. My desire to penetrate my wife was intense, but I resisted as I continued to talk. "No." I said. "I also wanted Daniel to hear my little speech to Wellman and Wargrave. Allgood now knows where I stand on things and that I'm willing to stand up to even the Big Boys. He's going to need to know that, especially when he has to take sides in the coming year." "What do you mean?" Laura asked, pushing her loins up to meet my strokes as I dryhumped her even harder. She knew what I meant, but wanted me to say it. "Daniel is a good guy and I think he's an honest cop, but he's been friendly with Malone and Ikea, too." I said. "But playing neutral or in the middle won't cut it, and if he knows where I am on things, I'm hoping he'll work with us and see the other side for what it is. Ummm, that's good..." "Ohhhhh!" Laura gasped as I slid my cockhead down and sank it balls-deep into her soaking wet cunt. I stroked in and out of her several times until she told me to pull out. "Turn over onto your back and let me suck you off." she said. "I'm not yet ready to have you start coming inside me." I rolled off of Laura onto my back on my side of the bed. Laura turned and bent over and slid her mouth down my cock. I groaned as she began sucking me hard and deep, using her hand to pump the base of my shaft. It did not take very long before I erupted. The Murdered Football Player Ch. 03 "Oh God!" I gasped as spurt after spurt of hot semen fired from my aching rod. Laura greedily swallowed every drop, then used her lips and tongue to clean me up completely. "Mmm, that was delicious." she moaned as she kissed my belly, then rolled back onto her side of the bed. She turned out the lamp, the darkness suddenly engulfing us. I cuddled up to her. "What about you, do I need to take care of your needs?" "I'm good; I came three times frigging myself waiting for you." she said, her voice getting sleepy. I let myself relax and my mind emptied as I fell asl-- To be continued... The Murdered Football Player Ch. 04 The order of my stories to read is: Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, Case of the Executed Evangelist series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10. The Murdered Football Player series. Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas. This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, nor cults, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above. Part 19 - Carnations At promptly 6:00am Wednesday morning, I arrived at Police Headquarters. To my surprise, the MCD room was already full of Detectives. Angela Harlan met me in the hallway to tell me the Chief wanted to see me in his office. I buzzed through MCD, grabbing my cup and pouring coffee before heading to the Chief's office. Yes, morning coffee trumps going to the Chief's office, and even the Chief would agree. When I entered the office, the Chief was standing behind his desk. In the exact middle of the desk was a large arrangement of carnations and other flowers in a vase. "Crowbar, I have a mystery here that I need you to solve." Chief Griswold said. "I want to know who sent these flowers." I looked at the card, which said simply "We love you, Chief!" with no names listed. "Chief, I can honestly say that I was not a part of this, and I wish I had been." I said. "I can also say that it is very likely that this case will never be solved, but I have a strong suspicion that certain Detectives are the culprits. I likewise suspect that I will never get straight answers out of any of them." "I agree," said the Chief, "but if you do find out, tell them I appreciate it." I could see on the Chief's face a happiness that I had not seen since he'd found a way to promote me to Lieutenant early, and that there was some emotion behind his eyes as well. 
"Yes sir." I said. "If there is nothing else, I'll go work on this case right now." The chief nodded and waved me out of the room. "Okay, guys," I said as I re-entered the MCD room. "The chief is grateful. However, I wish you'd have let me know what you were going to do so I could contribute to the Chief's flowers." My team began looking at each other somewhat sheepishly and furtively. "Lieutenant," Cindy Ross declared with a gleam in her eye, "by your statement, I deduce that you have not yet been to your own office this morning." Her words struck me. I excused myself and went to my little office. Sure enough, in the exact middle of the desk was an arrangement of carnations and other flowers, just like the Chief's. The card said "We love you, Iron Crowbar!" It took an effort to keep my eyes from welling up as I thought 'I love my team, I love my team, I love my team...'. No, really, I love my team... Part 20 - Traitors and Snares At 7:00am, we gathered in the MCD room to watch the news. The Chief and even Captain Malone were in the room, wanting to hear what was next. The broadcast started up, and that of course meant Bettina! "This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News. We have breaking news in the Jefferson Jackson case, and we are bringing you an exclusive interview with Special Agent Richard Ferrell of the SBI from just an hour ago. Roll tape!" A tape of Bettina interviewing Dick Ferrell in the darkness in front of one of the University buildings came on. "Holy shit!" I exclaimed as I saw who was standing next to Ferrell and Bettina. I lunged for the remote and hit the DVR "Record" button. The "REC" letters appeared, and I knew I was taping something I very much wanted: The person standing next to Ferrell was Detective Steven Ikea. "Chief!" I exclaimed, "why is Ikea working with Ferrell? What's up with that? Why does HE get to work on the case?" I said with feigned anger. "Captain Malone, what's up with this?" "What the fuck is that prick doing there?" the Chief spluttered, his face crimson with anger. Malone said nothing but just shook his head, not looking very pleased. "Agent Ferrell," Betting was asking, "What new information do you have for us?" "Ms. Wurtzburg, the SBI is conducting a raid upon the offices of one of the University assistant coaches with a warrant obtained overnight. As you know, Jeff Jackson was found with a small dose of performance-enhancing drugs in his system. The SBI has found evidence of performance-enhancing drugs in the possession of one of the University assistant coaches. We are also currently applying for a warrant to make an arrest in the case." Bettina came back on, live. "Channel Two News has learned that SBI agents are at the home of Strength and Conditioning Coach Erskine Marshall with a warrant for his arrest, but they have found the home empty-- what's that? Ladies and gentlemen, what you are now seeing is live from Town & County Police Headquarters! The local police have already arrested Coach Marshall, and he is being brought into the Station now!" The scene showed Marshall being brought into the front door of Police Headquarters by Patrolmen Pete Feeley, Micah Rudistan and Chet Morton. Anyone with the brains of a Betta fish knows that arrested perps are always brought into the right side entrance (north side of the building) for booking and processing, but the Press didn't seem to figure it out as their cameras fought to get as close into Marshall's face as possible, and Morton and Feeley were taking delight in forcefully pushing the cameramen back. "Well, they wasted no time." I said. "Good thing we didn't either. Excuse me, folks, I have work to do." I said as Bettina continued to broadcast that the SBI believed Marshall was involved in giving PEDs to players. The Chief had followed me down the hall. "Crowbar, this is going to spatter shit all over the place! What's going on?" "Come on, Chief, I'll show you." I said. I went to Interrogation-A, where the three officers had Coach Marshall. "Hi Coach." I said as we entered. "This is Police Chief Griswold, he'll be your host today during your stay in our fine Headquarters." "Hello, Chief." Marshall said as he shook the Chief's hand. "Thank God you've got this guy working for you." "I daresay." said the Chief. "What's up, Crowbar?" "Let's go downstairs, quickly. Feeley, Morton, Rudistan, we'll take it from here. Thanks for your help this morning. Go get breakfast and keep your receipts; it's on me." I led Marshall and the Chief through the security system to the basement and into the I.T. room, which contained only Myron Milton. We went into my old I.T. office, whereupon I lowered and shut the blinds so that no one could see inside. "Coach, you're going to have to stay here for most of the day. Myron will take you to the restroom nearby if you need to go, and we'll bring you some food." I said. "Myron, do we have what we need?" "Yes sir, we do!" Myron said. "Come look at this." We gathered around Myron's computer screen as he played back the camera footage. The cameras were in Coach Marshall's office, installed by Martin Nash and an I.T. technician under the authority of the warrant Paulina Patterson had obtained from Judge Watts for me. The video showed Coach Willy "Speedy" Gonzales planting syringes in a filing cabinet and then a drawer in the desk. "Now watch what happens at 6:00am." Myron said. As we watched, the time-stamped video showed SBI Agent Dick Ferrell and Detective Steven Ikea with two other SBI agents enter the office, go right to the drawers where the syringes had been secreted, "find" the syringes, then bag them as evidence. Ferrell and Ikea were grinning, laughing and giving each other high-fives and fist bumps. "Damn, Crowbar, you got 'em." Chief Griswold said. "You got those two motherfuckers cold." "Better yet, I've got Gonzales planting evidence." I said. "Let's go see if Paulina has come in yet, so she can get us an arrest warrant for 'Speedy' Gonzales." ------------------------ Agent Dick Ferrell and Steven Ikea entered the front door of Police Headquarters at 8:00am. Both were absolutely furious. They were met in the front hallway by me, holding a weapon at 'port arms'. That weapon, of course, was a blue crowbar, and it was crying out to be used. Behind me were Cindy Ross and Hugh Hewitt, wearing their bulletproof vests, and several well-armed and protected uniformed policemen also ready and spoiling for a fight. "Where the fuck is Marshall?" Ferrell screamed. "You bring him to me right now." "And if I don't?" I thundered back. "You son of a bitch, I'll have your god-damned ass hanging from the University bell tower before I'm done if you don't bring Marshall to me right this fucking minute." "Ferrell, why don't you just try to come and take him from me." I said, tapping the crowbar into my left palm. "Please, just try." I thought he was going to do it and I'd have my chance, but Ikea put his hand on Ferrell's shoulder and whispered something to him. "We'll be back." Ferrell said. He turned and left. Ikea remained. "Ikea, what the hell are you doing helping that prick?" asked the Chief, his voice menacing. "I'm bringing justice to a drug-peddler, Chief." Ikea said. "And if you don't give him to the SBI immediately, you won't be Chief of Police here much longer." A murmur of anger broke out from the other officers in the hallway. "Why you fucking bastard--" the Chief started, but I held him back. The Chief managed to say "Ikea, you're suspended as of right now. Turn in your badge and your gun to the front desk." Ikea simply turned and walked out the front door, still armed. "Let him go, Chief." I said. "His day is coming." ----------------------------- At 9:00am, Paulina Patterson called from the Courthouse, telling me that the warrants for the arrest of Gonzales had been issued, and that the warrant for Marshall's arrest had been cancelled. However, eight SBI agents headed by Dick Ferrell invaded our headquarters. Though ADA Patterson told them that the Marshall arrest warrant was no longer valid, Ferrell handed her a piece of paper. "That's a Federal warrant, Bitch, not one from your corrupt County." Ferrell said. "Marshall is going down for drug distribution, and there's not a damn thing you can do to stop me. Now I demand that you turn him over to my custody immediately!" "We'll see about stopping this warrant." Paulina said, heading back down to her office. Ferrell gave orders to search the Headquarters for Marshall. Marshall was not found. But when Ferrell and his agents wanted to go into the secure basement area, he was stymied. "I demand that you take us down there immediately." yelled Ferrell in the anteroom, in front of the secure door that led downstairs." "No." said the Chief, appearing in the room with Hugh Hewitt and his future-SWAT-team buddies, in full riot gear. "And you don't make demands in my building, Ferrell. Officers, escort all of these SBI agents out the front door. If they resist, shoot them." The heavily armed officers moved in on the SBI agents. Despite my prayers, the agents did not resist and were escorted out of the building without incident. At 10:30 Paulina announced that the Federal warrant for Marshall was rescinded. I suggested to the Chief that Marshall remain in our I.T. area until the Press could report on his innocence. I got on my cellphone and made a call. "Hello, Ms. Wurtzburg!" I said. "Yes, I'm fine... yes, the baby is doing very well, thank you. Listen, I have a scoop for you... oh yes..." --------------------------- Just after 10:30, Coaches Brian Harlan and Gonzales arrived at headquarters, accompanied by Detective Angela Harlan. She had persuaded them to come in quietly, before the Press could find them. Gonzales was sitting at the table in Interrogation-A, Harlan to his left. I was on the other side of the table with Martin Nash standing behind me and Patrolman Morton in the corner behind Gonzales. First, I read both coaches their considerable and numerous Miranda rights. "Gentlemen," I said, "let's watch a little TV." I turned to my left, where the TV set flickered on. The video of Gonzales planting the syringes in Marshall's office played on the screen. Gonzales showed no emotion, but Harlan's face fell as he brought his left hand to his forehead. "Am I free to go?" inquired Gonzales, the cheek of his defiance stunning everyone in the room. "Hell no, you are not free to go, Speedy." I said, disbelief in my voice. "As you can see, we have video evidence that you planted those syringes with the intent of helping the SBI frame Coach Marshall. You're facing years of hard time, Speedy." "You won't touch me and you know it." Gonzales said. "If you do, the NCAA will come in and investigate the football program, and you know the big shots won't have that. They'll protect me and you better back off. The football program is more important than you and your puny crowbar, Detective." "You think I won't touch you?" I said, rising to my feet, letting anger whip through my voice. "The other day I had to talk to a woman whose eyes were red from crying because her 20-year-old son had been found dead in a ditch, and you think I give a shit about you being a football coach, you son of a bitch!?!?!" I roared. "Do you really think being a football coach is going to save you from being prosecuted and imprisoned for 10 to 20 years, you sick sack of dog shit?" I continued to yell. Gonzales looked at me defiantly, trying hard not to break, but realizing that he was well and truly fucked; his gambit had not worked. Harlan looked like he was about to get sick. "Jesus Christ Almighty!" I breathed as I began walking around the table until I was at Gonzales's side. I leaned over until I was close to his ear and said in a much quieter but more menacing voice. "Speedy, the football program will still be here, NCAA or not, and whether or not you're a coach or in State Prison getting your ass gang-raped every night. And that IS what will happen to you, Speedy; those prison boys are going to lick their chops to make your their bitch... every single night." Gonzales just looked forward, unmoved. "I want a lawyer." he said formally and woodenly. "I will say nothing more without legal representation." "Lieutenant," Harlan said, his voice about to break, "can I speak to you privately for a moment?" "Detective, am I free to go?" asked Gonzales, unbelievably. "No, you are not free to go, Speedy." I said. "Then I am held against my will? I am being kidnapped?" Gonzales asked. "No, dog shit, you are under arrest." I said. "Under an arrest warrant issued this morning, for the crime of planting evidence in an attempt to incriminate an innocent man. Morton, re-read this piece of dog shit his rights and cuff his hands behind him, but stay in here with him until I get back from talking to Coach Harlan. Martin, Coach Harlan, let's go out here." I led the way out the entrance to the lobby, then turned and led the two men to Interrogation-B next door. Once inside, I told Martin to make sure the cameras and microphones were turned off. "Okay, Coach, what did you want to talk to me about?" I said. "I believed you when you said yesterday that you don't want to hurt the University or the athletic program." Harlan said. "So there has got to be a way for us to resolve this without it blowing up in our faces." "There is." I said. "But only if you do it my way, exactly as I tell you. These are my terms..." --------------------------- "This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" the lovely redhead reporterette said as the noon news broadcast started. "Channel Two News has been following the fast-paced developments of this morning in order to bring them to you. Coach Erskine Marshall has been cleared of all earlier charges and suspicion of involvement in distributing drugs to University athletes. Here is SBI Deputy Director Tom Conlan's statement just a half hour ago." Film footage of Conlan was shown. Standing next to him was State Senator Nathan Allen, looking sullen but trying to put the best face on these developments that did not help him at all. "The SBI acted upon good faith information, but new evidence was developed that exonerates Coach Marshall completely. On behalf of the SBI, I apologize for this mistake, and I am glad to report that we were able to exonerate Coach Marshall before more serious mistakes were made." "Sir, will the SBI agents responsible for these mistakes be disciplined?" a reporter asked. "We will review procedures and protocols with all of our agents." Conlan said. "The agents involved in this situation were acting in good faith, and while there will be a review of their actions, there is no reason to bring further punishment to them at this time." "Allow me to say something, Mr. Conlan." Senator Allen said, his voice the perfect stereotype of a slimy, sleazy, crooked politician. "Ladies and gentlemen, I want to reiterate my full faith in the abilities of the State Bureau of Investigation and their excellent, extremely competent agents. I've had the pleasure of watching them in their investigations the last few days, and despite smears against their integrity they have performed their duties marvelously. You may have full trust in the competence and abilities of the SBI as they complete their investigations of the unfortunate student's death." The TV switched back to Bettina, who was interviewing Chief Griswold outside the Courthouse. "Chief, when will Coach Marshall be released from custody?" "Bettina, he never was under arrest nor in custody." the Chief said. "Our Major Crimes Division had the evidence of his innocence early this morning, evidence that we provided to the SBI and to the Courts just as soon as we physically could get it to them. Coach Marshall agreed to come into Headquarters for his own protection until we could provide the evidence of his exoneration to the other agencies and get the warrants for his arrest cancelled. Coach Marshall is meeting with Coach Harlan now, and will be making a statement later this afternoon..." The afternoon radio broadcasts all over the State and even some national outlets carried the story of the exoneration of Coach Erskine "Iron Man" Marshall. That was one beast destroyed, I thought to myself. Now for the next step. Part 21 - Leads and Misdeeds It was SBI Special Agent Ted Crenshaw that was dispatched as the goodwill ambassador to me. But I was more surprised to see Deputy Director Conlan come into the Headquarters with Crenshaw. "Okay, Crowbar, you've gotta give me something." Crenshaw said after the four of us went into the Chief's small conference room. "The SBI has to save face, here. The press is buzzing, the politicos and the wealthy alumni are howling." "Lieutenant, we've truly got to find a way to mend fences and work together." Conlan said. "Ferrell and his buddies have friends, Senator Allen and other State legislators are fully behind him. But we also have a lot of good agents, and overall we're a good organization. Certainly not perfect, but we also don't need the Public distrusting us." "Crowbar, they do have a point." Chief Griswold said. "And Senator Allen is working like hell to fuck us over. Mr. Conlan needs help warding off Allen and his cabal." "And I agree with Director Conlan, sir." I said. "We do need to calm these waters down, now that the frame-up of Coach Marshall has been averted." The Murdered Football Player Ch. 04 "I go by 'Deputy', not 'Director'." said Conlan. "The Director gets pissed when anyone but himself gets called 'Director'." "Oh really?" I said. "I'll keep that in mind." "Crowbarrrr...." the chief said in admonition. "Sorry sir." I said, not sorry at all. "Okay, Ted, I can give you this much. If you follow this advice, you will find something. If not, I can't help you much more. You should look into the girls that Jefferson Jackson was dating, and I use the term 'dating' loosely. You should also look into other students whose girlfriends were being seduced by Jefferson Jackson, students who might hold grudges that the guy was banging their girlfriends." "All right, I'll let them know." Crenshaw said. "Not Ferrell." I said. "Look into it yourself or have other reliable agents look into it. Ferrell will fuck it up like everything else he's touched so far." "Here's one more idea, Deputy Conlan: bring up a couple of your SBI reservists to work with us on the case. They won't be nearly as tainted by hostilities as your regular agents." "Good idea." Conlan said. "You know, Jack Lewis, the SBI director, was talking about disbanding the Reserve program. He says he doesn't see the value in it, but so far I've convinced him to keep it. Maybe this'll be a big feather in it's cap..." ---------------------- Later that afternoon I was in the office of Coach Harlan. This time Martin Nash had my back vis-a-vis the door. Coach Harlan was not there, but quarterback Nick Eastwood was, and Harlan had asked Nick to answer our questions as part of my deal with him. Eastwood had dark blonde hair, a tough but handsome looking face, was at 6'4" as tall as me, and very athletic and muscular. He also had that 'aura' that my nephew Todd and some of the well-hung studs had, an aura of sexual virility and male power. Nick Eastwood was getting a lot of pussy. "Did the SBI talk to you, Nick?" I asked. "If that's what you want to call it." Nick said. "They hardly asked us anything. Mostly asked if we knew if Jeff had any kind of medical issues." "Do you know if he did?" "He was on medication for an irregular heartbeat, but the doctors kept a good watch on him and he seemed okay." "Were you friends with him?" I asked. "Yeah, he and I and a couple of other guys hung out a lot." Nick said. "You went to a party last Friday night?" I asked. For the first time, Nick faltered and didn't answer. "Nick I already know the details about the nature of these parties. I'm not trying to get you in trouble; I just need to find out what happened to Jeff." "Yeah, I was there." said Nick. When I asked him what happened, Nick said "We were hanging out with some of the alumni, you know, shootin' the shit, just waiting for the end of the evening. I fucked one of the wives, then she took Jeff into the back room. Some time later she came to the door, naked but holding a towel to her chest, screaming for her husband to come inside. He finally did. "A few minutes later, one of the alumni came out, handed me a wad of cash that they usually throw into the pool, and told us to get onto the buses and go back home immediately. Jeff wasn't with us when we got on the bus and left, so we knew something was up with him. We didn't know he was dead until the next day, though." "So they got all of you out of there, none of the players helped move Jeff's body?" I asked. "That's right, they shuttled us all home, except for Jeff, and we went along with it. I divided the cash between everyone like we always do, and we went home and to bed like we were told to." "Nick, I need the name of the woman that you and Jeff were with, and her husband." Nick looked distraught, not wanting to give up the name of the woman and her husband, but he finally did. ------------------------ Arriving back at Headquarters, Martin and I were barely inside when Tanya Perlman came rushing up, her cheeks rosy with excitement. "You will never believe what happened!" she exclaimed. "My own counsel will I keep," I said, "on what I decide to believe. What is it?" "We actually got a positive DNA match for the woman Jeff Jackson was banging!" "Let me guess." I said. "Janet Riordan." "How..." Tanya gasped, shocked. "How did you know?" She was miffed that I had stolen her thunder. Behind me, I heard Martin Nash laugh; I'd finally gotten a chuckle out of the guy. I grinned. "Martin and I just found out the name after developing another lead." "You pricks!" Tanya said, pretending to slap at me and Martin... but she was grinning again. "Seriously, that's great that you got a DNA match." I said as we walked to MCD. "How?" "Seems that she and her husband are swingers. You wouldn't know anything about that" Tanya said, keeping her face straight at that lie, but her eyes twinkling merrily. "Some years ago, there was a paternity issue with her youngest child. Four guys were possible as the biological father and they needed to know which one it was for medical reasons. She gave her own blood and DNA samples as part of the test, and the University Hospital kept the samples for legal reasons. And so the match came up." "That is fantastic." I said. "We are finally moving forward with this thing. Martin, let's go visit the Riordans. Where do they live, Tanya?" "Nextdoor County." But our luck ran out, as the Riordans were not at home when we arrived. We'd have to try again the next day. --------------------------- At 6:00pm the final cards in the saga of Coach Erskine "Iron Man" Marshall were played out. "This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News. Channel Two News has learned that Coach Erskine Marshall has resigned as an assistant coach with the University in order to be with his family in their time of need during a medical emergency. Let's roll the tape of the press conference from an hour ago." The tape showed Coaches Marshall and Harlan behind a table, with a University team logo curtain behind them. Coach Marshall was speaking. "I'm saddened that I will have to be leaving this University," Marshall said, "and it's doubly unfortunate that all this excitement happened this morning to interfere with the announcement. I definitely want to thank the Town & County Police for their incredible police work in keeping me from being falsely charged, especially Lieutenant Don--." After saying my name, Coach Marshall continued: "I need to be with my family, and I hope you'll give us the privacy we need in this medical crisis." Marshall declined to give further details about the medical emergency, and reiterated his request that his family be left in privacy. "In this unfortunate time for Coach Marshall and his family," Coach Harlan said, his face somber and his voice wooden, "the University President and I have chosen to release Coach Harlan from his contract. While this is an unusual step just days before the beginning of the season, we believe it's only fair to Coach Marshall to be able to take a job with another school closer to home." "I don't know if I'll be able to get a job immediately." said Coach Marshall in response to a question. "But I appreciate the gesture by Coach Harlan, and I wish this University and the football team well." Coach Harlan said "The commandant of the Army ROTC program has asked me to thank Coach Marshall for his work with the ROTC cadets while he was here. Coach Marshall generously gave his time to help physically prepare our future officers, and the ROTC program is saddened not to have his continued help going forward." I had said my goodbyes to Coach Marshall earlier. Part of the deal was that he would be released from his contract. He did not announce it, but he already had the offer from Coach Richmond to return to my alma mater and take his old job back, which would be kept quiet until next Spring. Also part of the deal was that everyone would pretend to be nice about it and hope the Press swallowed it. And then came the last part of the deal: Bettina was back on the screen. "Channel Two News has also learned that Coach Willy Gonzales, the wide receivers coach, has resigned from the team for personal reasons. Coach Harlan has not yet made a statement on the resignation of Coach Martinez, but we will bring any more information to you as we get it. Tim, what do you have?" "This is Tim Dawdle, KXTC Channel Two Sports, reporting from the practice fields on the University campus. The University has been rocked by the resignations of not one but two assistant coaches, and so close to the beginning of the season. While all University coaches and officials deny these resignations have anything to do with the death of Jefferson Davis Jackson, the timing certainly is inauspicious for Coach Harlan and his program. The NCAA has stated that they have no intention of pursuing an investigation of PED use by University athletes, but in light of these resignations and the ongoing investigation of Jackson's death, perhaps they should reconsider. There is clearly something not right about Coach Harlan's football program. This is Tim Dawdle, Channel Two Sports, with a comment." "Geez, I hate that son of a bitch." Angela Harlan said. "That makes two of us." I said. "Three." said Martin Nash, standing behind us. Have I mentioned that I am not exactly a fan of the Press... and that I might not be alone in those sentiments? "Wonder who had the clout to keep the NCAA at bay? I'm stunned they're not all over this like flies on a cow patty." Angela the Texas detective wondered aloud. I did not answer, though I knew that one billionaire University alumnus named Henry R. Wargrave was more than powerful enough to break the NCAA to his fist, to use falconry lingo. Part 22 - Conspiracies "Coach, you handled all of that very well." President Wellman said. "Would you like a drink?" "Scotch, please." Coach Brian Harlan said. "Neat." "I'll pour you a double." Wellman said. "You could probably use it. Hank, can I pour something for you?" "Bourbon and spring water, thank you." said Henry R. Wargrave. The three men were in the President's office on the University campus. Coach Harlan practically gulped down his drink. It had been a rough few days for him. First, one of his best players had died, then the SBI had been crawling around. Worst of all, that bastard Lieutenant from the local Police Force had terrorized him and Coach Gonzales into a hideous deal in which he was losing his loyal wide receivers coach, and was lucky to escape with his own scalp. Agent Ferrell and Detective Ikea had been worse than useless after they were supposed to be helping him and working with him. "Hank, are you worried about our local Lieutenant after his comments last night?" Wellman asked. "No, Sidney." Wargrave replied. The two good friends were on a first name basis. "I think Don is simply an honest man, but he is certainly not a man to be fucked with. He does have that one quality that sets him apart from most others: unpredictability. Wargrave continued: "I did have to fire some of my 'researchers' today... I should've been well informed that Don and Coach Marshall knew each other from Don's ROTC days. It was a grievous error for Ferrell and Ikea to try to pin the PEDs on Marshall. Of course the 'Iron Crowbar' would be loyal to his old coach the 'Iron Man', and I must admit that his anticipation of their actions and his efforts to exonerate Coach Marshall were most enjoyable to watch." "Mr. Wargrave, I really appreciate you being able to placate the NCAA and keep them off our back." "Oh, I can't claim credit for that." Mr. Wargrave said, outright lying. "The NCAA has no interest in exposing PED usage in their member Institutions, and especially don't want to seem to be bringing a hammer down right after your player died. They might ask a question or two after all the excitement has died down, but I think they have little interest in trying to dig up any dirt." Wargrave continued, his voice grave and ominous: "I will say that one day they're going to find out about an assistant coach sodomizing little boys in the showers at one of the biggest-name schools in the Nation; when that becomes public, you really will see the NCAA bring the hammer down." "Jesus." said Coach Harlan. "Help yourself to another drink, Coach." Wellman offered. As Harlan went for another double scotch, Wellman said "I must admit, Hank, that I am really disappointed in the SBI's handling of this. They truly 'screwed the pooch' on this one. No sooner did we convince Chief Griswold to let the SBI handle it than the SBI doesn't even bother to run lab results and then announces no findings. That really pissed off the Chief, and now he's unleashed the Iron Crowbar." "I could not agree with you more, Sidney." Wargrave said, his voice smooth and soothing. "Of course the SBI Crime Lab's director has been fired, and behind the scenes he was told to take it like a man or be criminally prosecuted. Now they're talking about offering Town & County's Crime Lab Supervisor Perlman the SBI job." The words struck Wellman hard; Tanya Perlman was his lover. He listened through his shock as Wargrave continued: "That's all we need, one of the Iron Crowbar's closest associates in charge of the SBI Crime Lab. But she is excellent, and I can understand the political and public good of such a move." "What about Ferrell and Ikea?" asked Coach Harlan. "I was told they're the best and that they'd help me out, but they've been nothing but a disaster so far." "Ferrell is very secure in the SBI." Wargrave said, looking at Coach Harlan meaningfully. "He is a most valuable asset within that organization. He is going nowhere. But Ikea? He's an idiot and a religious nutball, a real kook. He'd be a virgin, except that he has hired prostitutes, and after fucking them and coming, he starts shouting for the Lord to save their from their sins." Coach Harlan and Professor Wellman laughed. "But yes," Wargrave said, "Ikea has become more of a hindrance than an asset to some of my associates. He does have friends, but he's going to have to be moved along." He took out his cell phone and began dialing a number... ------------------------- "Ohhhhh..." the college-aged girl moaned as she was penetrated by her lover's cock. He began pistoning his six inch meat in and out of her tight hole. "Oh, Tommy, that's so good..." "I love you, Candy." the boy gasped as he fucked the lovely girl beneath him. They were engaged to be married and he was blessing his luck that he was going to be fucking a woman as hot as this for the rest of his life. "I love you too, Tommy!" Candy squealed. It felt good to have a cock pumping in and out of her tight young hole, stretching her vaginal walls apart as it filled her only to be withdrawn... only to fill her again in ecstasy. Tommy has snuck into Candy's room at The Vision's dormitory for the purpose of engaging in hot, sweaty sex with her. They tried to be quiet to avoid being detected, but the room was still filled with the grunts, gasps and smacks of a young couple lustily fucking as they rutted hotly. Candy looked up into the handsome young face of her lover Tommy, her feelings for him only adding to the pleasure of being fucked by him. She squeezed her cunt around his hard, pistoning shaft and pushed her ass up to meet each of his thrusts as he plunged into her again and again. Suddenly... her mind was filled with a memory... she was seeing another young man on top of her. It was like a dream, she couldn't quite see who the stud was, but his cock was much larger than Tommy's and he was stretching her pussy painfully as he rammed it balls-deep into her... who was this guy?.... it's like a dream but it's like it really happened... oh what happened to me, why can't I remember this? Candy wondered silently as she absorbed Tommy's increasingly hard, desperate thrusts. "Oh, gonna come soon." Tommy said, interrupting Candy's thoughts. "Can't hold back." Fucking the sexy beauty was just too much for him, especially as he had not released his pent-up desires in days. "Go ahead and come, baby," Candy said, "we'll make it last longer the second time." No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she felt Tommy's body shiver as he began pumping his semen into her. As the couple recovered, there was a loud knock on the door. "Oh no!" Candy said. She quickly put on her pajamas and a robe and answered the door, with Tommy standing behind the door. "Candy and Tommy," the man said, "he wants to see you." The man at the door was a senior executive and teacher with The Vision. But the 'he' meant the revered man at the very top. Tommy came out from hiding and both lovers quickly dressed. The executive and two other man escorted the two to the top floor of one of the towers that looked like turrets from the outside. The glass-windowed office with views overlooking the river was spacious and beautiful, but also Spartan in the furniture's appearance. It was dark and they could see little as the three men left them. Then, out of the shadows, the gravelly, raspy voice spoke to them. They could not really see his face, only the glint of his whitish hair gave away his presence. "Ah, my dear Candy, and my young friend Tommy, it's so good to see you both." "Sir, I'm sorry about sneaking in--" Tommy started. "Oh, pshaw, that's nothing." the voice said. "A young couple in love, such a beautiful thing, I understand how that is. And I'm especially to see Candy so sexually active after her recent encounter... oh well, never mind that, let me just say that neither of you are in trouble; in fact, I asked my executive to invite you here because you have both been extremely loyal and worked so hard for me, and you've helped so many lives. "Thank you, sir." Candy said, relieved not to be in deep trouble. "That's very kind of you to say." "It's late, but if both of you will go with my assistant, you'll both be treated to one of our wonderful massage therapies. I find them very relaxing, and I hope you'll enjoy them." The two young people gushed their thanks to the the great man who was the founder and leader of The Vision, then went with a pretty lady dressed as a nurse through a different door than they entered. Once in the spa, they were put in separate rooms. After a massage and a warm drink, they were told to lie on their backs and relax. Sparkling, psychedelic lights came on as soothing music played softly, then became just a bit louder as a voice began speaking to them. They had no way of knowing that the hypnotic drugs in the warm drink were nearly the same that Don and Todd had been subjected to on a camping trip many months before... Part 23 - The Lord's Wrath Descends "Chief, I'm fed up. It's time for him to go." I could not believe what I was hearing. I never thought I would be hearing Captain Harold Malone say the words I had just heard as we sat in the Chief's office. No, the Captain was not talking about me. He was actually talking about Steven Ikea. "I can tolerate the guy working with the SBI, but to try to frame a man that volunteered his time to work with Army cadets?" Malone growled. "That's just too much for me." "He's already suspended." Chief Griswold said. "It won't take much to fire him, and I'm very strongly leaning that way. Are you good with that, Captain?" "Yes sir, I am." Malone said. He pointed his thumb at me. "And if you're good with letting this former Army cadet have a shot at him first, I'm good with that, too." I was wary, but I could see the Chief was very happy about this turn of events, and that he was going to take advantage of this huge opportunity to rid himself and this Police Force of a real problem. But all he said was: "You know, I think you guys might want to work on personnel performance evaluations together tonight." The Murdered Football Player Ch. 04 "I'll text him now." Malone said, "I'll tell him I can get him out of the suspension but to come by here tonight. ------------------------ At 10:30pm Steven Ikea entered the front door of Police Headquarters. He attempted to walk through the front desk security, but the Duty Sergeant stopped him. The Duty Sergeant was loyal to Malone, so Ikea was surprised. "Sir, you have to leave your service weapon and any other guns here." the Duty Sergeant said. "What?" Ikea said, feigning anger. "Sorry sir." the Sergeant said, then looked around to make sure they were alone. He whispered "I'll give it back to you when you leave, okay? But the Captain needs to see you and you can't take your gun inside. Strict orders." "All right." Ikea said, relinquishing his arms, not realizing that the 'strict orders' could only mean a trap for him. He also did not notice that he had not been asked for his badge, which would've been the more correct action, and he did not observe the Sergeant press a button on the duty desk. Captain Malone, the Chief, and I were in the Chief's conference room. At the sound of the chime on Malone's beeper, the Chief got up and went back to his office. Malone got up and went into the hallway. "There you are, buddy." Malone said. I could hear him talking in a low voice to Ikea. "Look, I think I can get you off this suspension in the morning, but we are going to have to be careful and really play it straight, okay?" Ikea nodded. "Let's go into the conference room-- oh, you know what?" Malone said. "I left my notebook in the men's bathroom right down the hall. Would you go get it for me while I grab some paperwork? Meet me back in my office." Steven Ikea went the short distance down the hall. As soon as he went into the bathroom, I came flying down the hall after him. I was dressed in all black, in my "ninja suit", which allowed for comfortable freedom of movement, and heavy black boots with steel toes. Cindy Ross also came out of MCD, she had the key to lock the bathroom door. Only one light in the bathroom was on, and Myron Milton had sabotaged the feeds from every camera and microphone in the building, making sure that any tracing of it would look like it was from Ikea's terminal in Vice. Ikea looked around the bathroom and did not see a notebook anywhere. At the far end he was turning around when the door opened, and I entered the room. As the door closed behind me and the sound of the bolt moving to lock the door echoed, Ikea realized what was about to happen. "What the fuck are you doing here, shithead?" Ikea said. "I'm about to take a shit... on you, faggot." I said, using the homosexual slur to constantly remind Ikea of what Barry Bounel did to him. "We've got you on tape. You and Ferrell tried to frame a friend of mine... an innocent man, a good man who volunteers his time to work with military cadets. And you are going to pay for that, you son of a whore." "That man was evil, he deserved to go to jail for his crimes!" Ikea said, a strange fire lighting his eyes. "And you did the bidding of Satan in helping him escape God's punishment, you bastard." "But you are not going to escape God's punishment now, asshole." I said. "It is you who will feel the wrath of the Fist of God. I'm out of here." Ikea said. "He tried to brush past me, but the door was locked. As he tried to open it, I grabbed his collar and violently threw him back into the bathroom. "What the fuck are you doing, you Satanist bastard?" he said. I charged him. Ikea had had police personal combat training, but it was no match for what Cindy had been teaching me. I parried his defensive thrust and my right hand haymaker caught the side of his face. A second blow to the face stunned Ikea. I then reared back and with all the power and hatred I could muster, I hit Ikea in the nose as hard as I could. *WHAM!* It felt good, feeling the tissues give way before my hard, driving fist as the blow solidly landed. Ikea fell on his back to the floor, but tried to crawl away and get up. I let him, but just as he got to his feet I swung with another ferocious blast, catching him on the left side of the mouth. His whole face turned violently to the side with the force of the blow, and I saw spittle and blood fly out. No teeth came out, but by now there was blood coming from his face and nose. Another blow to the belly doubled him over, then a punch to the kidneys as he fell. I then began kicking him in the ribs and belly. He was able to get into a fetal position to protect his underbelly, but I felt and heard the ribs crunch as one hard kick landed. I then kicked his legs apart and smashed my boot down into his groin. "Aauuughh!" he screamed in pain. I delivered another kick to the ribs, and then went for the coup de grace to his head. I had not noticed the door being unlocked and opened. Someone in black and wearing a full black face mask grabbed me and pulled me out of the room, and as my haze of combat fury cleared I saw the person lock the door. Cindy Ross took off the mask. "Beating his ass is one thing, but killing him is another." she whispered. She was right, and probably had just saved his life and saved me from a serious crime. I hurried back to the conference room and put my sportscoat on over the black shirt. ---------------------- Lieutenant Daniel Allgood was sitting in his dark office in Internal Affairs. Melina was visiting Laura tonight, and he had the problem that all of his cameras and microphones in the building were not working. They were motion-sensitive and started recording if someone entered an area after-hours, just to make sure there was nothing wrong happening. He was tracing the source of the problem to Vice, when he got a call. "Sir, it's the desk sergeant." came the voice over the phone. "Someone is in Men's Bathroom 2, banging on the door. It's been locked and we don't have the key." "Okay, I'll get it." Allgood said. Internal Affairs had a spare set of master keys. He grabbed the correct set and went upstairs. He heard a pounding on the door, and as it opened, a bloodied Steven Ikea more fell than walked out. "What the hell happened, Ikea?" Daniel asked. Cindy Ross came up the hallway and stopped to 'help'. "That bastard Don--" Ikea gasped. "It was him." Daniel looked at Cindy, who said "Last I saw, the Lieutenant was in the Chief's conference room with Captain Malone and the Chief.
 Ikea took off for the conference room, though it was more stumbling along with Daniel's help, followed by Cindy. When they got the conference room, there was I at the far side, Captain Malone sitting next to me and between me and the door, and the Chief on the other side... not at the head of the table where he normally would sit. "There he is, there's the bastard that ambushed me in the bathroom." Ikea said, pointing at me. I could see by the better light that I'd fucked him up even worse than I'd thought. Both eyes were blackening, his lip and nose were bleeding and the top of his shirt was bloody. "Chief, Ikea says Don did this to him." said Allgood. "I don't know how, Crowbar was in here for all of the last hour with Captain Malone, doing personnel reviews. The reviews are late and I won't let either of them go home until they're done." said the Chief. "Don was here the whole time?" Allgood asked. "I was in and out of here, but Captain Malone: weren't you both in here the whole time?" the Chief asked. "Yes, Chief." Malone said. "Don has been in here with me for at least an hour." It was one of the most beautiful sights of my entire life, and I wish I could have taken a picture of it. As Captain Malone said the words, the look on Ikea's face was priceless. As he realized he was being betrayed and thrown to the dogs, Ikea looked at Malone with a facial expression of hatred that I have rarely observed on a human countenance. "You...you... Captain... you sent me into the bathroom..." "Not me." said Captain Malone. "Don, was I in here the whole time, too?" "Yes, Captain." I said, my eyes boring into Ikea's. His face now registered simple shock. "Allgood, Ikea was suspended by me earlier today." said the Chief. "Escort him to the front door please. Leave instructions with all entrances that Ikea is not permitted within these Headquarters again pending further review of his status, which I doubt will be that of a Town & County Police Officer for much longer. Ross, you go with them and make sure there's no trouble." Cindy was along for the ride as the bouncer, if needed. Once they'd left, Malone turned to me. "My God, and that was without the crowbar?" "That piece of pig shit did not deserve the honor of the crowbar." I replied. ------------------------- The very best hotel in the County was the University Hotel on the south edge of campus. After that came the brand-name, high-quality hotels near the big high-end shopping mall on the Northwest side of Town, near the main road leading to the west. But on the road leading south past the University and towards Coltrane County were the largest congregation of sleeping establishments, known as Hotel Row. Hotel Row, always booked solid for home football games, featured hotels of good quality with decent prices on the right (east) side of the north-south road, and somewhat less quality on the left (west) side of the highway. And getting near town, towards the infamous Tenderloin District, the hotels got seedier and less well-kept. It was at the Sunrise Hotel, an establishment that was decent for football fans to rent but a bit on the cheap side, that Steven Ikea and Dick Ferrell arrived at just before 12:00 midnight. After parking, they walked along the outside walkway to room 201 at the far end of the building, and knocked on the door. An SBI agent opened the door and admitted them. Sitting at the table by the window was Jack Lewis, Director of the State Bureau of Investigation. Next to him was State Senator Nathan Allen. A bottle of bourbon and two half-filled glasses were on the table. "Come in, gentlemen, come in." said Jack Lewis. "My god, son, what happened to you?" Nathan Allen said as he saw Ikea's face and the blood-soaked shirt." "Had to bust a perp." Ikea said. "You should see the other guy." "Jesus." said Lewis as he turned around and saw it. "No bust could've been worth that... have a seat on the bed, guys. Detective Ikea, I had Ferrell bring you over so that we could discuss some things. I've heard that the Town Police Force has treated you badly. I'd like to reiterate an earlier job offer with the SBI, and bring you on right now. You'll be working with Ferrell in Narcotics. But more importantly, we are going to take down that bastard Griswold and that frickin' punk Lieutenant Crowbar of his. When the day comes, we'll stand aside and let you use that shit eater's own crowbar against him. Whaddya say?" Ikea nodded, his eyes barely working. "I'd like that, sir." "Excellent." said State Senator Allen. "You're going to rise quickly and go a long way with the SBI. Let me be the first to address you as "Special Agent Ikea." "Thank you, Senator." Ikea said, weakly shaking the Senator's outstretched hand. "Okay, here's a computer, you need to email your resignation in quickly, before midnight. Say that it's effective at midnight tonight." said Lewis. Ikea did so, then signed some papers Ferrell handed him as Director Lewis talked. "Okay, just hold this Gideon's Bible from the hotel room and raise your right hand." The stroke of midnight sounded as Ikea took the oath from Director Lewis. Ferrell handed Ikea his new badge. "Ferrell, get some towels and help clean this man up." Senator Allen said. "Then both of you come have a drink. We've got a lot of things to discuss, and it'll be morning soon." As Ferrell was letting the water get hot to soak the towels, Steven Ikea held his Town & County badge in his hand. He swore to himself that he would pin it onto Harold Malone's dead body before things were finally settled between them. To be continued... The Murdered Football Player Ch. 05 The order of my stories to read is: Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, Case of the Executed Evangelist series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10. The Murdered Football Player series. Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas. This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, nor cults, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above. Part 24 - Following The Yellow Brick Road 6:00am Thursday morning. I sipped my morning coffee in the MCD room as I read the Town & County Examiner, the local newspaper (and I use the term "news"-paper loosely), pleased to see that the articles about Coach Marshall were fairly accurate and that they were leaving him alone for the most part. I saw that they weren't pursuing the Coach Gonzales story at all-- and then I realized that this must be because something was being done to keep the Press muzzled. That suggested powerful influences. "Lieutenant, I may have something for you." Martin Nash asked, coming into the room wearing his ubiquitous suit and tie. "Good. Whaddya got?" "I've been doing some data research with Myron." Martin said. "A couple of things popped up. First, you remember about the parents talking about some trouble with Jeff Jackson seducing some other boy's girlfriend?" "Sure do." I said. Nash said "Well it looks like girl's boyfriend was from your old hometown of Apple Grove. Kid by the name of Kip Starnes." "Yes, his mother Cheryl is about my sister's age." I said. "So what happened?" "It's sketchy, but the Jacksons moved to a town not too far from Apple Grove." Nash said. "The Starnes and the Jacksons became acquaintances and often saw each other through the social events of others. Anyway, this past summer there was apparently some friction between the families that led to a police report being filed. I'm trying to get details now." "Contact an officer on the Apple Grove Police Force, a Leanne Wisocky." I said. "She's a couple of years older than me. But no matter what you find, I can tell you this: yesterday, I gave Crenshaw of the SBI a hint to go look into the situation. I suspect that you or he will find out that Jackson seduced Kip Starnes's girlfriend, and that it led to problems between Kip and Jeff, which led to their families becoming strained." "I saw some bits and pieces about that." Nash said. "I was reading some of the SBI's filed reports on the case, to which I've been given some access by going in a roundabout manner." "I don't think Sandra Speer of the FBI is going to appreciate being called a 'roundabout manner'." I said, teasing Martin by naming his girlfriend. Martin smiled wryly as I continued: "That reminds me, we haven't heard a word from Jack Muscone lately. I wonder what he's up to."
 "Sandra said he's in Miami, been there a couple of weeks." Martin said. "Something about a diplomatic conference down there, then a big all-out gang shooting that got a diplomat killed." "I see." I said. "Well, get with Crenshaw about Kip Starnes... prod him a bit if he needs it. So what was the second thing?" "It's also about Jackson's parents." Nash said. "I told you before about their connections to a White Supremacy group. Well, seems their names came up in connection with an FBI investigation of a group called 'Superior Bloodlines.' This group is really quiet and under the radar, but their cat got out of the bag when one of their members tried to acquire enough ammonium nitrate to get Homeland Security's attention. They traced the money the guy was buying the stuff with to a 501(c)3 group that's a front, then got the 'Superior Bloodlines' name from a mole that penetrated the group." "Uhhh..." I said, putting it together in my mind even as I asked, "... and just who did this cat try to buy the ammonium nitrate from?" "Your personal favorite." Martin said, needling me. "Ward Harvester. And before you ask, Ward's name did not come up in association with 'Superior Bloodlines', but the FBI is looking into more of his transactions." "Good." I said. "Though I doubt they'll find anything if they hadn't already after the Swap murder case. In any case, do not tell the SBI about this unless they specifically ask you about it. I don't want to step on the FBI's investigation, and we're not here to do the SBI's work for them." ------------------------ 7:00am sharp, and you know what that means. It is very rare for Bettina Wurtzburg to tell us something about our police department before we know it. This morning was one of those rare moments: "This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" shouted the lovely redhead reporter into her microphone from outside the State Office Building on the Town Square, where State and SBI offices were housed. She looked good in her dark blue dress, which was tight enough to make her breasts strain against the fabric. Mmm Mmm Good, I thought to myself... then came the shock. "Channel Two News has learned that Senior Detective Steven Ikea of the Town & County Police has resigned from the Force as of midnight last night, in order to take a position with the State Bureau of Investigation's highly respected Narcotics Task Force!" A huge roar went up, complete with shouting and clapping. No, it wasn't MCD: my guys were just staring at each other in shocked silence and wonder. It was the Vice Division that was cheering so happily. Bettina continued: "There will be a press conference here at the State Building at nine o'clock, where Director Jack Lewis will introduce his newest agent. Director Lewis has already released a short press statement, saying that the hiring of Agent Ikea away from the Town & County Police will only strengthen the already considerable abilities of the SBI NTF. The Town & County Police have not yet issued a statement, but this can only be a huge blow to their Vice Squad, which will struggle to maintain its war on drugs without Senior Detective Ikea's skill and leadership." "Pul-eeze!" I said sarcastically. "I'll take one Teresa Croyle over ten Ikeas." "Hear hear." agreed Cindy Ross. The TV continued with Bettina saying "We now go to Tim Dawdle, Channel Two Sports. Tim!" "Thank you, Bettina," said the pajama-boy puke Dawdle, "and that is indeed really big news. In Sports, Channel Two News will cover this morning's press conference by Head Football Coach Brian Harlan. Coach Harlan has a lot of questions to answer, and reporters will be asking about PED use by the football team and a potential cover-up of that, as well as the death of Jefferson Jackson, a crime that the local police forces are unable to handle. We will bring you any new information, including our coverage of the highly anticipated press conference with Coach Harlan. Back to you, Bettina!" "Thank you, Tim, we really look forward to your incisive questions for Coach Harlan." Bettina said as I prevented a very red-faced Angela Harlan from throwing a paperweight at the TV. "In other news, the SBI is working on the case of Jefferson Jackson's untimely death, and sources close to the investigation have told Channel Two News that Kip Starnes of Apple Grove,--" As Bettina named the state, Martin and I exchanged a glance, "--is a person of interest. Starnes is a backup player on the University team, and the SBI wishes to talk to him about his past relationship with Jackson as well as a possible relationship between Jackson and Starnes' girlfriend, one Abby Winters, also of the Apple Grove area. Channel Two News will of course bring you any new information in the case. This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" The chatter was interrupted by the singing of two Vice Detectives and several Uniformed police officers coming into our room, singing loudly "Ding dong, the witch is dead! Which old witch, the wicked witch! Ding dong, the wicked witch is dead!..." This performance draw laughs and cheers until the Chief came into the room. "What the hell is going on?" Chief Griswold thundered. "This is a police station, not a Broadway theater!" Everyone grew suddenly silent, but then the Chief grinned and said "Crowbar, Nash and Ross, come to the main conference room. The rest of you... enjoy the performance of our Vice theater company here, then get to work!" Everyone cheered but grew quiet again as the Chief continued, just a touch of venom in his voice: "I would say that Vice is a man short, but that would be saying that Ikea is a man... which is in considerable question." Laughter and general happiness ensued as years of tension were released in one morning... ------------------- At 8:30am a group of us entered the main conference room for a meeting with the SBI reservists that had been called up. The Chief, Captain Malone, myself, Martin Nash, Tanya Perlman, Cindy Ross, Teresa Croyle and Tim Geiger were in attendance. SBI Deputy Director (DD) Conlan and Agent Ted Crenshaw were also present. "I'm sure you're all shocked about the announcement this morning regarding Mr. Ikea." Conlan said. "Just between us, and this will stay in this room, I was just as surprised as anyone. I had no idea that was going to happen." "I had no idea this was coming either," said Ted Crenshaw, "and I dare say that not many of our agents in Town knew about this. "Well, we're sure not complaining about it." said Teresa Croyle with an alacrity not heard from her in some considerable time. Captain Malone's facial expression did not change, but I could see that he did not disagree with Teresa's sentiment. My, how things had changed! I thought. "Well, it complicates things." DD Conlan said. "I'm hoping calling up these police officers for some SBI Reserve duty will be helpful to the Reserve program. I don't think Director Lewis likes the program, and his hiring of Ikea the way he did is part of the problem. So you guys need to do a great job and work well together, as I believe the Reserve Program will be a true asset to the State. Let me introduce the new reservists." As he introduced them, I made observations. Theodore Washington was a Detective on the Southport Police Force. He was black and what my mother would call "movie star handsome". He was about 5'8", slender to medium build, and carried a confidence about him that some would call a swagger. He had graduated first in his class at the Police Academy and the Academy Advanced Course, one of only three persons to ever do that (and I was certainly not one of them). Molly Evans was perhaps an inch taller than Cindy Ross, and she had platinum blonde hair, though she wore it in a different style than Cindy. She was what one might call a tomboy, with a muscular-looking frame, broad strong shoulders, just like Cindy... but where Cindy had bulked up for her competitions, Molly stayed feminine. She wore pants, but I was curious to see her legs, and I suspected they were at least as good looking as Cindy's. The comparison to Cindy was more than just idle... Molly Evans was Cindy Ross's older sister. Sitting in the same room, one could tell the differences between them: Molly's face and nose were slightly longer, for example; but at the same time one could clearly see the very strong family resemblance. However, as Molly was introduced, Cindy made no facial change, and I realized she was working hard not to give Molly any special acknowledgement on her facial features. Ditto that for Molly. "Crowbar, I want you and Crenshaw to work with Detective Washington, here." said the Chief. "I've read great things about his work in Southport, but he's still a young whippersnapper that could use your guidance. Detective Evans, you can work with Croyle and Ross." "Just don't get between them when they start bickering." said Captain Malone, a hint of a smile on his hardened facial features. "You might not realize it, but a lot of work gets done when it looks like they're fighting." "Chief," I said, "with respect, I'd like to suggest that Detective Evans work with me and Crenshaw at first today, and that Detective Washington work with Cindy and Teresa... the reason being that Detective Evans---" "Please, call me Molly, okay?" Molly said. "Certainly, thank you Molly." I said, smiling. "Anyway, she and I have corresponded on some issues concerning a certain psychopath killer, and I also have it on good authority that she's turned down some politicians' bribes with beatdowns, which makes her an excellent candidate to be awarded an iron crowbar." Molly blushed modestly as Tanya and Martin "ooh-d and ahh-d". I was hoping that would get Cindy to smile a bit, but it did not; Ross's countenance remained unchanged and the tension inside her did not relax. "I totally agree, Chief," piped up Cindy, with some intent in her voice. "And Theo and I went through the Police Academy Advanced Course together, so I need to get him right and get all that bad training out of him." Everyone laughed, but Molly peered across the table at Cindy. "Don't be fooled, Chief," Tanya said, the sparkle of mischief burning brightly in her eyes, "Don just wants to get to know the new lady better." "You get all the girls, Crowbar." the Chief said, smiling, but then became serious. "Okay, but I want you all working together and getting to know each other while you guys are here. Tanya, work with Don's team; Martin, work with Cindy's. Geiger, hold down the fort in Vice, get Angie Harlan and Diana Torres if you need any help in there. Anything else, Tom?" "No, Chief." said Conlan. "I have a feeling this is going to work out even better than I thought." "Oh, it's nine o'clock." the Chief said. "Turn on the TV. And let's meet back here at 10:00 with your teams' action plans." --------------------- The SBI press conference at 9:00am was broadcast live as SBI Director Lewis introduced his new agent Steven Ikea, with State Senator Nathan Allen standing prominently next to them and Agent Ferrell more modestly placed behind the group. As we watched, I was wondering why Senator Allen wanted to be seen at this event and so prominently, and also why Director Lewis was making such a big show of hiring a new agent. Everyone else was wondering about Ikea. He was wearing sunglasses, not taking them off even when he spoke for a moment at the microphone, and several of my Detectives noted that he looked like he was wearing a lot of makeup. I only smiled as Cindy and I looked at each other, both of us knowing what facial damage that Ikea was concealing... and I have to confess that I was very happy to have been the one that administered that damage. Part 25 - SBI-Failure-Style Interrogation "So what's the plan, Don?" Tanya asked me. We were sitting in the Chief's conference room. As Martin Nash brought his team up to speed on the Jackson case in the main conference room, I'd just done the same with my team, adding a few details of Ned's appearance on Campus days before. That led to a more detailed discussion of Ned and his heinous crime spree. Molly's perfume wafted into my nose as we talked, and it was not clear to me why I was noticing it so much... and thought it smelled good and was perfect for her. She carried herself very well, in a very professional manner, but for some reason I could just sense the woman beneath the professional shell. It surprised me that of all the women I knew and came into contact with, it was Molly who was making such a strong sexual impression with me... she had the "aura", just as Laura and Melina did. I tried to clear my mind of such thoughts, as we had a job to do. I noticed Molly sneaking glances at me from time to time also, and I figured she was observing and sizing me up the way I was doing to her. Tanya also had visually evaluated Molly, Theo Washington and Ted Crenshaw, but Crenshaw seemed like most agents and officers: he didn't seem to be using the powers of observation and deduction so crucial to our work. "Our plan is to interview Janet Riordan this morning. She and her husband, wealthy University alumni and donor Tom Riordan, live in Nextdoor County, on the big lake near where we interdicted Joe Arruzio, as Tanya might remember." I said. "I read about that." Molly said, looking at (and seemingly through) me. "That was great work you did solving that case." "On behalf of my excellent team, thank you." I replied. "Anyway, I very strongly suspect she knows something of value, and while four agents of the law ganging up on her might be overkill, it might also shake something out of her." ------------------- "Our plan is to interview Kip Starnes, as well as any other names that pop up vis-a-vis girlfriends seduced by Jeff Jackson." said Martin Nash. "Agent Crenshaw has already been following that angle. We're also going to interview some players and others to see if there were any racial problems on the team, especially with Jefferson Davis Jackson." "Any comments?" asked the Chief, primarily aiming the question at me. "Just a couple, sir." I said. "Martin, don't forget that the team is flying out of town tomorrow for their away game on Saturday, and they're practically on lockdown already today. Get what you need very quickly, as the coaches are already frazzled, pissed at us, and really under a lot of pressure right now. Don't make their jobs worse with our interference. Second, I don't blame you for looking, but concentrate on the girlfriends and jealous guys. I just have not picked up any racial issues to this point." "True," Theo Washington said, "but since I'm here, I might can get something from the 'brothers' that none of you can get." I couldn't deny that point. -------------------------- I was driving towards Nextdoor County with Molly Evans riding "shotgun" in my Police SUV. Tanya and Ted Crenshaw were following us in her unmarked police car. We had no sooner started our ride when Molly came right out with it: "Okay, Don, why didn't you want Cindy and me to work together today? The real reason?" she asked, trying to spring it on me. I smiled; I liked the way this woman worked, and it was similar to my own style. I gave my already-considered answer: "First, I think you are both professionals and would've handled working together in a professional manner. Having said that, I think it is very important for this SBI Reserve program to work. I am part of it, and I think it's vital that it work if the SBI is to be made into a competent organization. To be blunt and up front with it, I could not help but notice that there is some strain between you and your sister, and I already know that there has been strain there. So... I suggested that you work with me instead, at least today." "Well, you're right about that." Molly said. "How much do you know about our rift?" "Well, I know about Cindy's... orientation," I said, "and I know that it is the basis for the problem. I will tell you this, it's not nearly the problem I have with my sister." I told my story of Elizabeth to Molly, then added "I think you guys are a lot closer than I ever was with my sister, so I think... and hope... you and Cindy can work it out and be as close as you were when you were younger... if I don't miss my guess." "Wow." Molly said. "It's true; you do see everything. Are you really psychic, or just guessing lucky?" I noted the grin Molly was trying to hide in asking that. We were connecting well. "Who knows?" I said. "The FBI is already threatening to burn me at the stake." The Murdered Football Player Ch. 05 "What else has Cindy told you, especially about me?" Molly asked. "She didn't tell me how good looking you are." I said. "I'll have to reprimand her for that. She has told me, and I also heard it elsewhere, about you making sure that people who attempt to bribe you understand the folly of doing so. I really do want to give you a crowbar for just those occasions." Molly replied wistfully "I'd love to do to Senator Nathan Allen what you did to Sergei Molotov. That bastard is as dirty as they come, and if half the stories of what he does to teen girls are true, then he deserves to be beaten to a pulp and then cut into tiny pieces." "I'm with you on that." I said. "That bastard has really been hammering the Town & County Police lately, and I'm not sure why... then again..." Molly got to experience my reverie for the first time. "Oh well, we'll worry about him at the proper time." I finally said. Molly said "Well, I'm glad you did get me to work with you, Don. I've been looking forward to it." She then looked at me, studying me. "In fact, I'll make a prediction right now... that you and I are going to have sex, and lots of it." "Er, you do know that I am a married man?" I said, not allowing myself to be shocked by Molly's words, having been well-insulated by months of working with Tanya Perlman. "Does that change your thinking?" "You have an open marriage with your wife, the most celebrated and knowledgeable sex professor on the planet." Molly said. "And yes, you and I are going to have sex." "Well, I certainly hope you're prediction comes true." I said, realizing that Molly had been studying up on me. "Just make sure Cindy doesn't beat ME up with a crowbar when we do hook up..." -------------- The Riordan home was large and luxurious from the outside. There were large back windows overlooking the lake, a four-car garage, and the two stories likely contained at least six bedrooms. As the four of us approached the large front doors, I observed the excellent gardening and trimming work, but got a sense of sterility without personality. The door opened and a middle-aged woman with graying hair opened it. When I identified us as the Police and that we wished to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Riordan on a matter of vital importance, she frowned but admitted us into the foyer. Leaving us there, she went to fetch Mrs. Riordan, saying that Mr. Riordan was away from home on a business trip. I knew what that trip was; Mr. Riordan was already headed to the location of the University's away game, and would be drinking and partying from tonight through the game's conclusion. Mrs. Janet Riordan came into the foyer and introduced herself. She asked us to step into the little sitting room just off the foyer. As we went in, I observed Janet Riordan. She was dressed in a white dress with black and red flower prints. The dress clung to her luscious body, showing off her cleavage and her marvelous ass. Her body was firm and toned, and that perfect hourglass shape. Her very high heel red pumps accented the dress as well as making her calves and ass that much more shapely. She was definitely a hot trophy wife. I also observed the house, the parts I'd seen to this point, and felt the same impressions as those from the outside: the house was perfectly appointed, nice and correct furniture, fairly luxurious chairs and couches and such... but completely without personality. Perhaps other rooms were more warm and inviting, but Mrs. Riordan clearly did not want us in any but the smallest portions of her home. "Mrs. Riordan," I said, after introducing the rest of my group, "I appreciate you giving us a few moments of your time. We're here investigating the unfortunate death of Jeff Jackson, who was a football player at the University. Did--" "Ah yes," Mrs. Riordan said, interrupting me, perhaps on purpose. "We heard about that. It's very sad. By the way, I'm surprised that you have four agents here just to question li'l ol' me. And you're not all State agents, are you? I certainly have heard of you, sir. You're the talk of our neighboring county and we've certainly heard about you over here." She was pointing at and looking at me. "I am working with the SBI in a State capacity, ma'am." I said, letting my eyes lock with hers in a contest of wills, which I was determined to win. "As to Mr. Jackson: did you and your husband know him?" "Oh yes, we'd met him." Janet replied. I could see that behind her large, pretty eyes was a certain foreboding and caution, definitely a calculated mistrust of us. She had not liked it that I brushed aside her inquisition of my bona fides in Nextdoor County and moved so abruptly and directly to the point. "My husband is a benefactor of the athletic programs, one of their most devoted boosters. We've met many of the young athletes." Janet Riordan added. "I see." I said. "And you met these athletes at parties, at University functions?" "Of course, Lieutenant." Janet Riordan said, with something of smirk on her face. "Did you ever meet Jeff Jackson's parents?" I asked, hoping to throw her off guard by going in a different direction. "Yes, I think I met them a couple of years ago." Janet replied, her eyes shifting, looking upwards for the first time as she thought about it. "During a recruiting function in a town out of State named Apple Grove. Disgusting little place." "Isn't it, though?" I immediately replied agreeably. Molly Evans was looking indignant on my behalf, and she reminded me very much of her sister Cindy Ross at that moment. Tanya Ross was suppressing a laugh, knowing what I was doing. "Oh you've been there?" Janet Riordan asked, trying to throw me off guard. I was beginning to enjoy our little cat-and-mouse repartee, and I wondered if she knew that Apple Grove was my boyhood hometown. "Yes, I've passed through there a couple of times. Not a decent restaurant anywhere near there." I said. "Just a couple more questions so that we can stop taking up your immensely valuable time, Mrs. Riordan. Do you know of anyone, anyone at all, who might have reason to harm Jeff Jackson?" "No, I don't. He seemed to be a very nice young man when I met him." Janet replied. "And my final question," I asked, and the question surprised everyone: "That's a very interesting rune necklace you're wearing, with those three runes. Is that from The Vision's camps?" "Er... why, yes, it is." Janet said, getting flustered for the first time. "Are you familiar with them?" "I've seen them before," I said, "and was just curious. What do the runes mean?" "There are three of them." Janet replied. "One is for the Empowerment Camp, that's a confidence-building camp; one's the Enlightenment Camp, that's more of a spiritual, 'higher self' camp, it was my favorite; and the third is the Leadership Camp. I attended them some ten years ago." "Very interesting." I said. "Thank you for explaining that. Do you still have contact with The Vision, take any of their seminars?" "I think I've taken every seminar they've offered. Now I volunteer to work at some of their weekend seminars and the camps. It's a lot of fun, and is a good way of giving back and helping others find their own enlightenment." Janet's eyes were glowing as she spoke of The Vision and her work with them; she clearly was 'hooked' by whatever it was they were offering. "Does anyone else have any questions?" I asked... a question I would come to regret. "I do." said Ted Crenshaw, and I could tell he was trying to portray himself as at least my equal in talking to witnesses... and that he was going to fuck it up. "Mrs. Riordan, you mentioned that you've met Jeff Jackson at parties. Did you see him at any recent parties?" "My husband and I don't have too much to do with the players once they're recruited, Agent Crenshaw." Janet said. "There are NCAA rules about contacts with them." I noticed that it wasn't a denial; Janet Riordan was smart enough not to outright lie to police, I realized. "Are you sure, Mrs. Riordan?" Crenshaw continued, his voice harsh and imperious, "Are you sure that you did not see Mr. Jackson at a party this past weekend?" Janet Riordan's beautiful face assumed a dark, almost ugly countenance. Her eyes became reptilian, almost casting lightning bolts at Crenshaw. And as I feared, Crenshaw had blown it. "I will answer no more questions without the presence and advice of counsel. You need to leave my home immediately. All of you, go. Grace!" she called out. Her secretary arrived instantly. "Show these police agents to the door." Janet Riordan walked out the door into the main room as the secretary brusquely shuttled us out the front door. Outside the house, as we were about to get into our cars, I said quietly to Molly, but where the others could hear: "It's like that children's game of hot-and-cold: we were 'warm' in there."

"Well, she lawyered up." Molly said. "So that's that for now." "Yes, that's true." I said. "Tanya, why don't you take Molly and Ted down to the crime scene and show them around. Then drive into Coltrane County, since your vehicle is unmarked, and quickly visit the Lake Ocheekobee Country Club with these questions." I handed her a piece of paper. "Then drive on into Buford, and Molly, if you will get affidavits from the sheriff deputies there about the needle mark they saw on the Sheriff's neck, I would appreciate it. They might balk, but just don't mess with them and dictate terms, and you'll get the affidavits. "After that, there's a great little diner in the downtown district." I said, naming the place. "Have lunch on me, and I'll meet you there by 2:00pm, and we'll head to our next phase." "Aren't you coming with us?" Molly asked. "No, I have an errand to run in Hillside first." I said, naming the county seat of Nextdoor County. "I'll take the road from there to Buford and catch up to you. Oh, and Tanya, instruct Agent Crenshaw on good interrogation techniques." "With pleasure." Tanya said, the sarcasm dripping from her voice. The others left and I followed them out the Riordan's driveway. They turned right onto the highway back towards Town, while I turned left. But once they were out of sight I turned around and headed back to the Riordan home. ---------------------- As they drove down the road towards the crime scene, Molly said "Well, Ted, you blew that one." "Me?" said Crenshaw, sounding offended. "What did I do?" "Don had the right idea." Tanya said. "He had Janet Riordan admitting that she knew Jeff Jackson. I'm sure you noticed the way he changed the subject around, circling back to the objective--" "Yes, and that was really good." Molly said. "I learned a lot just from those few moments." Tanya picked it back up: "Then you came along, Ted, with a jackhammer and started asking her about the party this last weekend, and she immediately asked for a lawyer." "I was trying to shake something out of her by surprising her with it." Crenshaw said, his voice defensive and a bit angry. "She's not a mafia don, Ted." Molly said, and as Crenshaw whirled in surprise to look at her, she continued. "Yes, I know about your experience in the City. But you can see that your tactic totally failed." "Not only that, Ted," Tanya said, a tinge of anger coloring her voice for the first time, "you totally gave away what we know about that party, about Jackson at that party, and about her at that party. Now she knows that we know, and that may have destroyed any hope of getting a conviction." "A conviction for what?" Crenshaw said, totally uncomprehending. "Murder." Tanya said, having long since understood the sequence that Don had uncovered. "Ohhhhhh...." Molly said, putting it together in her own head. "I'm beginning to see where Don was going with all this." "You are good, Molly." Tanya said. "I see why Don thinks so highly of you." The women began to talk shop while Crenshaw sulked, still completely not understanding. Part 26 - Iron-Crowbar-Style Interrogation "Hello, Grace." I said as the secretary opened the door just a foot when I rang the bell. "I need to speak with you just a moment." I took her hand and gently pulled her outside, and she came along. "This will only take a moment." I said. I then slipped behind her and through the cracked door, shutting and locking it before she could step back inside. As I walked into the house, I heard the banging outside, hoping and expecting that she had no cell phone and no key to the house. "What the hell are you doing in here, Lieutenant?" Janet Riordan thundered as I walked into the back den. The large windows overlooking the lake were impressive, reminding me of my own views from The Cabin. "I came to speak with you, Janet." I said. "And please call me Don."
 "I can think of a few other names I'm about to call you." said Janet, her eyes dark and angry. "Now get the hell out of my house." "Oh Janet," I said, as I approached her, standing before her and towering over her small frame with my height, "I just wanted to ask you about how it felt to fuck Jeff Jackson." "What?" Janet said. "I want to know..." I said, my eyes boring into hers. "Did he feel you up, did he feel your big tits... like this?" I reached out and began massaging Janet's large breasts through the confining cloth of her dress. She was not wearing a bra. Janet stepped back but I followed and resumed massaging her breasts, cupping them. They felt nice, even through the cloth of her dress. "Did Jeff like your big breasts, Janet?" I asked. "You bastard, you stop that right now." Janet said, but she didn't mean it... she wasn't trying to step out of my grasp at all. "Did Jeff kiss you, Janet, did he feel your body while kissing you and whispering to you?" I asked, again suiting the word to the deed. I began nuzzling Janet's neck as I slid my hands over her waist and down to her firm, bubblicious asscheeks. Mmm, they felt so good in my hands. The taste and smell of her was intoxicating; Janet was all woman. I guided Janet down onto the comfortable sofa that faced the back windows and eased myself on top of her, continuing to nuzzle her neck as I began sliding her skirt up. It wasn't long before I was rubbing her crotch. Janet was already getting wet. "Mmmm, nice wet pussy, Janet." I said. "Did Jeff like your hot wet pussy, Janet?" Janet was breathing hard into my ear and I felt her hand almost imperceptibly begin sliding along my sides in exploration. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the secretary Grace was coming around to the back patio. I quickly got off Janet and pulled her up. "Did Jeff take you to another room, a private room, where he could fuck you, Janet?" I asked. She did not answer, but looked at me, her eyes more like a doe at bay than an angry woman. Wordlessly, she took my hand and led me to the stairs. We ascended the stairs and went into the master bedroom. Like every room in the house, it was well-apportioned, luxurious, comfortable... and totally devoid of personality. Anyone could be living in this home, I noted, but decided for the moment to concentrate on the beautiful woman in front of me... a woman that I was about to fuck, and regardless of whether or not she gave me her permission. "Did Jeff lie you back on the bed like this?" I said roughly as I pushed her back onto the bed. She allowed herself to fall on her back, her eyes a mixture of anger and pure lust. I quickly climbed between her legs, and as my hands slid her skirt up to her waist, I brought my mouth to her pouty pussy. She was not wearing panties. "Mmmmm....." Janet moaned as my tongue licked up and down her slit. She was already wet, but my oral ministrations had her juicing up even more quickly. She moaned as my tongue flicked over her clit. She was delicious. I licked my tongue down her slit again and found her cunt hole. She moaned as I stabbed my oral digit into her wet pussy, then licked her labes roughly, wetting them down with her own juices and my saliva. "Did Jeff eat your pussy like this?" I asked, my voice a husky whisper. "Or were you already full of another man's come, Janet? Did Jeff get sloppy seconds?" I knew that her mind would be in turmoil, that she was wondering if I knew everything.... and that was why she would not stop me as I rose up, unfastened my pants and freed my cock. I slid the condom onto my cock with great speed, then eased onto the bed and mounted the gorgeous redhead. "Did Jeff fuck you, Janet?" I asked as I fit the head of my cock to her pussy. "Did he fuck you like this?" "Unnnh!" Janet moaned as I penetrated and shoved my meat balls-deep into her sopping quim. She was not particularly tight, and as I began pumping in and out of her I could tell that she was an extremely experienced woman that had fucked many very large cocks. Janet Riordan was a true hot MILF and trophy wife: she was getting a lot of cock. But the fact that she was not tight did not mean she didn't feel great. Janet was a tremendously hot woman, a total pleasure to fuck. I felt her beginning to respond to my thrusts as I ground down harder into her, then began thrusting into her with deeper, harder strokes. "Oh yeah." Janet groaned as I fucked her hard and deep, rapidly pistoning my throbbing cock in and out of her with tremendous speed. The condom somewhat dulled the pleasure I was feeling, but the heat of her twat enveloped my shaft with each driving thrust, and the feeling of her body responding to me increased my lusty desires. "God, you are so fucking hard!" Janet gasped, speaking out for the first time. "No wonder they call you the Iron Crowbar, this thing of your is hard as iron." "Like that hard cock baby?" I said, egging her on. "You like it when I fuck you with my cock?" I was sure liking it. "Bastard." she replied. "You're still a son of a bitch, but don't stop fucking me now. Oh God, oh Don, you're going so deep... oh, I like it when a man gets deep inside me, oh yes...." Janet gasped. I felt her cunt clutch at me and wondered if that was an orgasm or if she were just trying to milk my cock to bring me off faster. I sucked Janet's large breasts, my tongue circling the areola and then harshly flicking her erect nipples as my hands roughly cupped and massaged her large mammaries. Janet groaned and began driving herself up to meet my thrusts. She was beginning to really get into the sex in spite of it being forced upon her by me. "Did Jeff get deep inside you, Janet?" I asked, whispering into her ear. "Did he get balls-deep into you with his big cock?" I buried my meat into her slit and ground our loins together, my balls bouncing against her asscheeks. "You know I fucked him years ago when he was a recruit... he was just a high school Senior when he plowed my cunt the first time." Janet said, her eyes smoldering with lust as she remembered. "And yes, Don, even as a kid his cock was bigger than yours." If she was trying to insult me, it didn't work; the image of well-hung young man fucking this beautiful woman's brains out just made me all the hotter. "Did he fuck you hard and deep like this?" I asked, my voice a gasp as I began to pump my cockmeat into Janet as hard and fast as I could. I felt her hands clutch my asscheeks as I drove them down, piledriving my cock into Janet's sopping wet pussy. "Oh yeah, fuck me just like that... hard and deep!" Janet whispered. "Oh, so deep..." As I nuzzled Janet's neck, smelling her and tasting her as I fucked her, my mind suddenly went to Molly Evans, thinking of her tomboyish beauty mixed with her feminine smell. I fantasized about fucking Molly as I pumped into Janet, and it was not long before I reached the crest. "Oh God-- AWK! UGH!" I gasped as I climaxed, the condom catching my spurts of hot semen as my pulsing cock fired my load uselessly into the tip. The intense pain-pleasure of my release enveloped me, and as I recovered I looked down to see Janet looking up at me. The anger was gone, though replaced by a look that resembled contempt. The Murdered Football Player Ch. 05 "Well, Don," she said, breathing heavily, "your methods of interrogation have not worked. I've admitted nothing." "Well, we'll just have to have a few more hours of interrogation until you talk." I said, a grin forming on my face. Janet finally smiled, a very pretty, radiant smile that made her face glow and warmed my loins again. "Let's get out of these clothes first." she said. "I want to feel your body on mine." I kissed her deeply and she returned it hotly and fully for the first time. We shared deep, wet kisses as we stood up and stripped naked. Janet slipped into her peep-toe pumps that were on the floor at the end of the bed, and the sight of her shapely legs and feet aroused me. I lay back on the bed and Janet settled in next to me, leaning over to suck my cock. The beautiful trophy wife began giving me head, sucking my cock to harden it back up. Her mouth was hot, wet and wild, and her incredible oral talent and experience had me hard in no time. I slipped on another condom and mounted her. We took our time, and our coupling was slow, deep and wet. Our kisses were hungry and seeking as we mated passionately, the heat of Janet's body against mine increasing my fires of lust... Once it was over and we dressed, and I made sure to take the condoms with me so that there was no heavy evidence of what I'd just done to Janet Riordan. "Au revoir, Don." she said as she let me out the front door, her face barely concealing her lust as she looked at me. "I'm sure we're going to be meeting again soon." "I certainly hope so." I said, walking out the door, ignoring the furious look upon Grace's face as the thoroughly peeved administrative assistant stood by the door waiting to get back in. --------------------------- ((Author's note: it is possible that the following information is a CLUE for future stories. Hope you're enjoying it, and we return you to your regularly scheduled mystery.)) I drove towards Buford on State Highway 142, which slanted southwest from the main road between our Town and the City towards Buford in Coltrane County. On the way down, I saw the signs that said "No stopping! Vehicles may not stop for next 5 miles. Keep driving." I was approaching the State Asylum. The signs and stopping prohibitions were to keep people from helping Asylum inmates escape by providing them with a ride. Needless to say, this once was a problem until the 'no stopping' rule was put in place, and I knew the road here was carefully monitored. This road went closer by the Asylum than the road from my County to Buford and on to Midtown. As I drove by, I glanced over at the forbidding gray buildings behind the fence. It looked more like a prison than a Mental Hospital from here, and that is truly what it was. As I passed, I felt a sense of foreboding, that something was not right here... that there was something vitally important to me happening here, in this Asylum, and that I needed to investigate it. I put that thought into a compartment of my mind as I headed on, concentrating on the Jeff Jackson case. Part 27 - The Vision After meeting my colleagues at the Diner and finding they agreed with my assessment of the quality of the food there, I told them what our next plan of action would be: we would stop by the headquarters of The Vision as we headed back up the main highway towards home. "What do you hope to find there?" Molly asked as I observed Crenshaw's peevish silence. "Oh, I'm basically just going to leave my calling card." I said. "I do want to know if Jeff Jackson ever had anything to do with them, but I don't expect to find out a lot." Molly insisted on picking up the lunch tab, saying she could expense it. We headed back north out of town. I saw the 'No Stopping' signs as we passed by the Asylum; it was much farther away from this road, but could be clearly seen in the distance as there was not a single tree blocking our view, and that was on purpose. I was driving with Agent Crenshaw this time, and the ladies were following in Tanya's car, and I was listening to his diatribe. 
 "I don't see that I did anything wrong," Crenshaw said, "but they really hammered me over it." "Ted, I know you're a good Agent, especially in the areas of Organized Crime and Drug Trafficking, but let me ask you a question." I said. "Did you learn something from that incident today?" "I....." Crenshaw said, about to defend himself, but then he had to honestly assess the question. "Yeah, I guess I did." he conceded begrudgingly. "That's what this SBI Reserve and exchange program is about." I said, bringing Crenshaw back to the lure, to use falconry lingo. "There's a lot to be learned from the local guys about a lot of things. Spend fifteen minutes with Tanya Perlman on a crime scene and you will be overwhelmed by what she is capable of finding." "Oh I know about that." Crenshaw said. "That's why the SBI wants to hire her to run the State Crime Lab after they fire the bozo there now. He's going to take the fall for that humiliating fiasco, and they'd love to steal her from you." He then asked, a bit too shrewdly, "Think they'll succeed?" "I don't know." I said. "It's up to her if she wants to pursue something like that. Ah, here we are." I said, turning left onto a small road. As we drove up the road, I noticed the cameras, concealed in things like birdhouses on poles and what looked like a scarecrow overlooking a farm of very meager growth. We were being watched all the way to the gate. At the gate, I introduced myself with my badge, and asked if I might have a few minutes time with the leadership that was here at headquarters. They radioed in as they took our license plates, then waved us through with the instructions to stay on the road until we got to the front door, whereupon someone would greet us. "Hi there." said a handsome, tall man in his early 40s as we arrived. "My name is Dennis Cole, I'm one of the five senior trainers here at The Vision. Welcome to our World Headquarters. How can I help you?" "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cole." I said, shaking his hand and introducing my fellow agents and detectives. Mr. Cole led us inside, past the front desk and around to an open area with chairs and couches. "We can sit here, though..." Dennis Cole said, as if it were a sudden thought. "Would you like me to give you a short tour of the place first?" "We'd like to ask a few--" Crenshaw started, but Molly interrupted and overstepped him immediately. "That would be very nice, Mr. Cole." Molly said firmly. "We'd appreciate seeing your lovely facility here." Crenshaw looked peeved again as Dennis took us around. It was mostly seminar rooms on this ground floor, but the hallway was against the outer wall, and had a nice view to the outside grounds behind the facility. "Yes, Lieutenant," Dennis said, in answer to my query, "the river is visible from here, though it's a much better view from one of our observation windows on the upper floors... yes, the dorms are in the other building, and I'm afraid those are off limits, and they are people's homes while they stay with us... yes, Dr. P. Harvey Eckhart is our leader, but I'm afraid he is not here today, he's preparing a new advanced course seminar." We'd gone around in a near circle and were near the front desk from the other side. The windows overlooked the front drive and I could see our vehicles. The doors to the inside room revealed a large room with many young people inside at tables. Most were dressed in blue shirts with "The Vision" and their logo over their hearts, while some were obviously tourists or customers. "Dennis," I said, "if you don't mind, I'd like to speak to some of your young friends here. Detective Evans, would you mind taking charge of the interview with Mr. Cole?" "Certainly, Lieutenant." Molly said, right on cue. I was really beginning to like her. I went into the room and sat at a small table with a young man who looked a bit nerdish. He had me place my hands on what looked like a crystal half dome in the middle of the table. A thin white current of lightning went from my hands to the core of the dome. "Okay, just concentrate on your inner self and breathe." he said. I went along. He asked questions about where my tension spots in my life were, and I thought it best not to mention that a dead body and a murder were the answers to some of these questions. He also asked about my spirituality, though not asking direct religious questions. My father would've been apoplectic at this... and my sister Elizabeth would've loved doing this just to piss him off. After the questions, the young man moved into the sales pitch. I had to admit he did a reasonably good job with it. He suggested the Enlightenment Camp and their spiritual seminars, not suggesting the full "Total Growth" package just yet, saying that I was already confident and empowered. Fancy that, I thought, remembering what I had forcefully done to Janet Riordan just hours before. "Well, thank you for speaking with me." I said, showing him my SBI badge. "I don't think I'll be able to purchase anything today and I've got to catch up to my colleagues, but thanks for an enlightening experience." I bolted the room before had a chance to escort me or assign me an escort. Seeing my group and Dennis talking in the open space with chairs, I snuck over to one of the elevators and punched in a keycode. It worked, as I knew that brand's master keycode from my days selling security equipment. Riding up the elevator to the top floor, I prepared myself mentally, getting 'into the zone', so to speak. I knew that if things went well, I would be meeting a most formidable antagonist, not quite the level of Henry Wargrave, but still a most very powerful man. I exited the elevator into a beautiful top floor room. The furniture was white and light blue, as was the carpet. The room was round, completely enclosed with glass windows giving a 360 degree view. I could see the river as I looked over the desk at the end of the room. I noticed and the chair behind the desk, turned to face the glass... ... then I noticed movement as the chair turned slowly. A older man, slender and dressed in what was a simple white pajama-like shirt and pants as well as flip-flops, the clothing trimmed in a light blue American Indian design, that of the Echeconnee, if memory served me correctly. His shock of dyed-white hair was a 'blaze' of white fire from his head. He grinned at me as he stood up. "Gruff?!?!" I said, amazed, then realized my mistake. "No... not Gruff. You're taller than he is." "Ah, Lieutenant!" the man said. "It's so good to finally meet you. I've been looking forward to making your acquaintance for some time. Yes, I've kept track of your marvelous successes in the County to our north." "Dr. Eckhart, I presume." I said, shaking the hand he offered me as he came up to me. I was in the presence of the legendary P. Harvey Eckhart, who was to seminars, self-help and enlightenment that Rev. Jonas Oldeeds had been to tele-evangelism and mobile Christianity. I noted a rune on a string around his neck; it was unlike the previous three runes I had seen before. "Yes, my friend. Call me Harvey, may I call you Don? Or you can call me 'Gruff" and I will call you 'Crowbar', as your police chief does. Congratulations on the birth of your new daughter, I know you're just ecstatic to be a father. Have a seat, have a seat." he said, leading me to two very comfortable sofas in the middle of the room, the carpet upon which they were situated being very thick and comfortable to walk on. "Yes, I have been a-mazed at how you have solved some very tough crimes, and you are cleaning out that Police Department very nicely." Eckhart said. "I don't know yet how you did it, but you got that imbecilic Mr. Ikea out of there. Very smart, very astute." "Thank you, sir." I said. "I'm sure you're immensely busy and I don't want to take up too much of your time---" "Oh, pshaw, we have all the time you need, young man." Eckhart said. "As I said, I've been looking forward to meeting you. I think we'll be meeting again, and perhaps we can help each other... oh no, this is not a Sergei Molotov speech, I'm not trying to bribe you, and I certainly do not want to know what an Iron Crowbar beatdown feels like. But I know that you are battling some pretty bad people, and there may come a time when I can help you. And there may be times you can help me, fully within the law and ethics, of course." "Certainly, Harvey." I said. "And to start, obviously you and one Mr. Gruff had some kind of association; he's your twin... ah, he had plastic surgery to look like you... now why would you have him do that?" "Ah, you are indeed as perceptive as I have heard." said Eckhart. "Wonderful! And to answer you, I had five men have surgery to look more exactly like me. At one time it was necessary, as there were threats upon my life as well as an FBI investigation... oh, what your friend Jack Muscone would give to be here with you right now! Fortunately none of my decoys came to harm, I didn't come to harm, and the threat dissipated when my enemies realized there were too many of me to track down... but not too many of them!" That a man could induce five other men to have plastic surgery to look like him was impressive and bespoke of this man's power as well as his ability to persuade. I kept my senses on the fullest possible alert. "This is not why I came to visit." I said, "but I get the sense that you didn't mourn very long when Jonas Oldeeds was gunned down." P. Harvey Eckhart smiled, a mysterious smile full of appreciation for me... and of hatred for Jonas Oldeeds. "Your senses serve you well, young man. Jonas Oldeeds was a hideous man, a vile, evil creature that deserved the extermination he received. If you ever find out who killed him, Lieutenant, be sure to give the assassin my deepest heartfelt thanks." "You don't know who killed him?" I asked, somewhat skeptical. I knew that a man like Eckhart knew a lot of things. "No, indeed I don't." Eckhart said, then peered at me. "You know... I believe that you... and possibly FBI Agent Jack Muscone... are the only two people who might know who the killer of Jonas Oldeeds was." "Besides the killer himself." I said. Eckhart looked at me, a sharp sideways glance. "Like I said..." he murmured. Was that a clue he was giving me? I wondered. Alas, I had too little time to ponder it. "Mr. Eckhart, was a young man named Jefferson Jackson associated with The Vision in any way?" "Yes and no." Eckhart said. "Let me explain: his parents took my "Total Growth" package some years ago, it must be... almost ten years ago now, just as I was beginning to grow so large that I could not handle the whole thing myself. The Jacksons were, and are, wonderful people, and I remember Jeff Jackson as a boy when they brought him to some of the seminars. It was so... sad... hearing of his unfortunate death." "Yes." I said. "It was. So Jeff had no association with you on his own, nor recently?" "No, none at all." Eckhart said. "That is an interesting rune around your neck." I said. "It's unlike the ones I've seen, such as the ones Janet Riordan wears." "Ah, Janet is a lovely, lovely woman." Eckhart said. "She's come such a long way, and she is a very enlightened woman now. I will also tell you that she came to accept her sexuality much more fully while working with us. Your wife, the lovely professor at the University, would say Janet was a 'nymphomaniac', and she was a professional sex worker until we helped her lose the guilt and learn to enjoy her life and herself for what she truly is." "As to this rune," Eckhart said, "it is called 'the fourth rune' by our members. I only give them to a few most special friends, such as my chief trainer Mr. Cole, who is probably unable to stall your fellow detectives much longer. Come over here, if you will." Eckhart led the way to his desk. Behind the desk, on two posts between the windows, hung two 'fourth runes' from small hooks. "One of these, Don," Eckhart said, "is going to be yours one day, after you come to accept me as a friend and we work together much more closely. You will know the right time, as will I when I award it to you." "Well, uh, thanks, Mr. Eckhart, but I'm not seeing myself at any of your camps any time soon." "We shall see." said Mr. Eckhart. "And this other rune... it is going to be for someone you know, someone you know quite well. It will be accepted... when it is the right time, of course." At that moment, the elevator opened and two rather burly men in suits appeared, obviously part of the Eckhart security staff which had utterly failed as I breached them and made it to the man's office. "Ah Don, I have to go, but it's been so wonderful getting to know you today." Eckhart said, coming around the desk and shaking my hand. "Why don't you take the elevator and join your friends, while my friends here and I conclude some business." "It was indeed good to meet you, Dr. Eckhart." I said. "And thank you for your time and help." -------------------------- Back in the lobby, my three colleagues stared at me as I got off the elevator. "What happened?" said Tanya. "Oh, I found enlightenment." I said, smiling as we exited the building. "With one Dr. P. Harvey Eckhart. Let's head home. Molly, ride with me and I'll tell you all about it. Tanya will just have to wait. She can spend the time trying to get Ted to ask her for a date." "You're a bad man, Lieutenant. You need more than just enlightenment." Tanya said, feigning pouting before grinning. ------------------------ As the elevator doors closed, a virtually-concealed door opened on the other side of the office. The click of high heels echoed through the room as the woman came up to Eckhart. "You were right, my dear, he's every bit as impressive as you said he would be." Eckhart said, his eyes still watching the closed elevator doors. "Yes, he is." the woman replied softly. "Do you really think he knows who killed Jonas Oldeeds?" "He was inscrutable, I simply could not tell." Eckhart said. "I don't even know who it was. But if there is one man on earth, besides the killer himself, that knows who did me the immense favor of exterminating Oldeeds, it is the Iron Crowbar..." Part 28 - Consolidation Of The Objective At 4:00pm, Tanya Perlman and I headed to a meeting with my confidential source in the University's Psychology Department, that being my lovely wife Laura. Molly Evans and Ted Crenshaw had to attend a meeting with DD Conlan. Entering Laura's office (after knocking, of course), we found her seated at her desk. On one of the two sofas, his back to us but standing as we entered, was a tall man in his late 40s to early 50s, very distinguished looking with a little bit of gray just beginning to work into his black hair. Tanya's eyes lit up a the sight of him; she was impressed. "Don, Tanya," Laura said in introduction, "this is Dr. Richard Searles, the chief cardiologist on the staff at University Hospital. Laura introduced us to the renowned heart surgery doctor and we sat on the other sofa facing him. "I asked Dr. Searles to discuss with you about the drugs found in Jefferson Jackson's body." Laura said. "I'm not nearly as experienced in these medications as he is, and he was kind enough to come over today." "I really appreciate it, Doctor." I said. "Your help will be invaluable to us." "I'm glad to help." Dr. Searles said, "though I think Dr. Fredricson is far too modest in describing her considerable medical abilities and knowledge of medications." I don't know if that was a compliment or a bit of a dig at Laura, whose knowledge of experimental drugs was immense, not to mention the nature of her 'underground' work. The Murdered Football Player Ch. 05 "Doctor," I said, "Jeff Jackson was found with three drugs in his system, as well as a small amount of alcohol. One of the drugs was viagra, one was his medication to regulate his heart rate." I handed him the sheets of paper from the toxicology reports. "I can hardly pronounce some of these names, and won't try. The third drug is some kind of booster, stronger than the PEDs Jackson had been taking, but similar to them in composition. Can you tell us more about their interactions?" Dr. Searles read over the report with considerable interest. "Hmmm, very interesting. Did he take these drugs all at one time?" "Pretty close." I said. "I'm thinking he took the viagra himself, anticipating a night of several sexual encounters. The others may have been taken by him, or perhaps given to him without his knowledge." "He had erectile problems?" Dr. Searles said. "Uh, no sir." I said. "Doctor, we find there is quite a black market in viagra amongst the college set. Kids take it to be able to perform for hours during parties." Laura added from behind her desk, "The porn industry also has a black market for it. The male porn stars use it to, shall we say, 'keep going' during hours of shooting their films." "Well, I wouldn't know much about that." Dr. Searles said. "But as I look at these drugs, let me just say this: the prescription drug he was taking absolutely should not have been taken with this booster drug. I agree that it's similar to performance enhancers, but much stronger. The chemical composition is very similar, but the effect of this booster are stronger and more immediate." "In the case of this person," Dr. Searles continued, "if he took the drugs at the same time, they could cause an adverse reaction to his heart. If taken at different times, when they're both not at their strongest in his system, then the effect probably would be less noticeable and certainly less dangerous to his life." "Does the viagra enhance the interactions?" Tanya asked. "Yes, Detective, it sure does." Dr. Searles said. "It looks like, as you said, Lieutenant, that Mr. Jackson here took the viagra, then strong doses of the other two drugs were ingested at the same time. The effect of all three could easily have had the effect of stopping his heart or dropping his blood pressure to such a low point that he went into shock and his heart then stopped." "I can see him taking the viagra, maybe his medication, but would he take that booster at the same time, or any PED right then?" Tanya asked. "No, he didn't take the booster himself, and probably takes his medication in the morning, so he likely would not have taken it then." I said. "Doctor, if these two drugs were mixed into a drink, could it have brought harm to anyone that drank it, not just Jeff Jackson? "Yes, if they were administered together, anyone taking them might have suffered a heart stoppage or blood pressure drop." said Dr. Searles. "But I also have to say this: if you mixed these drugs in one drink, especially in an alcohol drink, they would interact beforehand and chemically change enough the the efficacy is reduced, in other words the drugs would be less effective and I would not expect the person to have that heart stoppage. It's only in the bloodstream where they all act on the heart at the same time that there's a problem." "So they should be administered separately and not mixed in order to have the most powerful effect?" I asked and Dr. Searles nodded. "Now that IS interesting." I said. After saying our goodbyes to Dr. Searles, Tanya and Laura settled for chatting with each other about sexual matters as I fell deep into one of my thought-trances for several long minutes. ------------------- At 5:55pm we convened in the main conference room to watch the News then have our conference. Present were: Chief Griswold, myself, Martin Nash, Molly Evans, Cindy Ross, Theo Washington, Tanya Perlman, Ted Crenshaw and Teresa Croyle. To our shock, Deputy Director Conlan came in, accompanied by SBI Director Jack Lewis. Lewis insisted on taking the Chief's chair at the end of the table, which the Chief acquiesced to, though with a red face. I offered the Chief my chair at the other end of the table, but the Chief bade me to sit down and took a chair between me and Cindy Ross to my right. Director Lewis then began taking charge, trying to throw his weight around. At 6:00pm, those not familiar with her were introduced to a heavy dose of Bettina! "This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" said the lovely redhead reporterette on the TV screen. "In earlier reports today, Channel Two News brought reports that the State Medical Examiner's office was prepared to declare that Jefferson Jackson's death was by natural causes, that he suffered a heart attack, and that the SBI was prepared to close the case." "However, Channel Two News has more recently learned that the SBI interviewed University student Kip Starnes today in their offices in the State Building just off the Town Square, unhindered by the presence of the local police force. Sources close to the investigation have told Channel Two News that Jefferson Jackson, the young man found dead early last Saturday morning in a ditch in the southern part of the County, had dated Kip Starnes' girlfriend, and that Starnes and Jackson had a physical confrontation over the incident. Starnes' girlfriend, one Abby Winters, has admitted that she had a relationship with Jackson while dating Starnes. The SBI considers Kip Starnes a person of interest in the death of Jeff Jackson. We now go to Tim Dawdle, Channel Two Sports. What have you got, Tim?"
 "This is Tim Dawdle, Channel Two Sports. Today Coach Brian Harlan gave his Thursday press conference, the last before the University's season opener on Saturday. Coach Harlan was asked repeatedly about the use of PEDs by his football team, especially by reporters from Channel Two News. Despite our reporters' fearless questions, Coach Harlan refused to give any straight answers, finally walking out of the press conference to avoid having to tell the truth about PED use by his team. Let's go to the tape." The tape showed Coach Harlan being interviewed. It was badly edited, cutting back and forth, clearly intentionally edited to make the Coach look bad. The coach at first said the issues of PEDs had been addressed, then began asking if anyone had questions about the game. Those questions were edited out, making it look like the only questions were about PEDs. Have I mentioned that I have a deep hatred of certain members of the Press? "Somebody go give Angela Harlan some Ritalin." I said. "She's going to go bonkers over that one. I'm pretty close to it, myself." "Oh I'm just fine." Angela said, her voice husky, walking into the room. "But I think I'll sit in here with you so you can babysit me before I do something regrettable." "Yes, come on in, and sit here by me." I said, indicating the empty chair I had just pulled up to my left side. "What about Kip Starnes?" the Chief asked. "Another innocent man we've got to save from being lynched." I said. Director Lewis spoke up. "No, he may well not be innocent. Let me tell you about that situation. Jackson seduced Starnes' girlfriend and had sex with her. He might even have impregnated her, though she won't admit it. Starnes confronted Jackson about it in the football locker room, accused Jackson of raping her. What ensued was basically a Fight Club, where Jackson beat the living crap out of Starnes in front of everyone." Deputy Director Conlan took up the bit, relishing his words as he spoke them: "From what I hear, it was a real beatdown... like the one Steven Ikea got from an unknown source recently." That was Conlan's shot at Lewis; I could tell these two men deeply hated each other. Lewis was totally aware; his glance at Conlan was full of hatred and fury. Lewis took back over. "I don't know about Agent Ikea, who is already proving to be a strong asset on his first day of work with us. Anyone who did engage him in personal combat is wanted by the SBI, and that person will be fully prosecuted." Director Lewis looked straight at me, and I deliberately yawned. Lewis's words got him some glares that matched his at me, but he pretended he did not see them as he continued: "Starnes not only nearly died from that beating, Jackson allegedly was standing over him, telling Starnes that he, Jackson, would bang any girlfriend Starnes ever had any time he damned well pleased. So while we haven't proved Starnes retaliated by murdering Jackson, he's certainly a suspect until something shows otherwise." "Crowbar?.... Crowbar?" the Chief said, looking at me. "He's in the zone, Chief." Cindy Ross said. She was right; I was in a deep, deep reverie. It was five minutes before I came out of it, during which time the meeting continued. "Nothing." Martin Nash said, replying to the Chief's question. "We didn't get anything. The SBI beat us to Kip Starnes; as you heard, they've questioned him where we can't get to him, and they're making a point about keeping him away from us." Nash had no fear of saying that in front of SBI Director Lewis. "I talked to several of the black players." Theo Washington said. "They were pretty open and honest with me, despite the coaches telling them not to talk to us. None of them had a problem with Jeff Jackson. They knew about his full name, but he'd told them his parents had named him that when he was too young to complain about it, and he never showed any racist attitudes himself, though he never hung around them as friends, either. But there's nothing at all in the racial angles or anything involving his parents' racial issues that we could find." "Well, at least we've eliminated that angle." said the Chief. "Good work, Theo. By the way, is that your brother that was just hired in our District Attorney's office?" "Yes, Chief." Theo said. "Franklin Washington. He's younger than me. He may dress better, but I'm the better looking guy." Everyone laughed (except me, I didn't realize I'd heard it until later). "That's great." said the Chief. "Crenshaw, I heard your team didn't do so well today, either. Janet Riordan lawyered up. What happened?" "I can answer that." I said, saving Crenshaw as I came out of my reverie, my thoughts thoroughly marshaled and ready to go. "Janet Riordan was absolutely correct to invoke her rights, if what I am thinking is true."
 "Which is?" asked Director Lewis. "That Jefferson Davis Jackson was murdered, and was murdered with premeditated intent. I think I know what happened that night, how the murder was done, and who it was committed by. This is what happened..." To be continued... Dear Readers, you have the clues to solve the Case of The Murdered Football Player. What do you think happened, and who murdered Jefferson Davis Jackson? The Murdered Football Player Ch. 06 The Case of the Murdered Football Player, Ch. 06 by The WifeWatchman The order of my stories to read is: Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, Case of the Executed Evangelist series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10. The Murdered Football Player series. Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas. This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, nor cults, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above. Part 29 - The Answer It was about 6:30pm, still Thursday evening, and we were still in our meeting. I was about to reveal the answer to who killed Jefferson Davis Jackson. All eyes were on me as I began my narrative. "Teresa," I said, "take Angela Harlan and Hugh Hewitt and bring these two people into protective custody." I said. I gave Teresa a name with two slips of paper. Also on the paper, but not read out loud was a message to not let the SBI know what was happening until we had the two in custody. "Wilco." Detective Croyle said as she and Angela Harlan got up and left before SBI Director Jack Lewis could stop them. "First, everyone," I said. "I need to say that I have virtually no proof of any of this that will fly with a Grand Jury, much less a trial Jury. Unless someone confesses or we find some evidence that I don't suspect exists, we'll never bring the murderers to Justice." "Murderers? Plural?" said Director Lewis. "Yes." I said. "Here is what happened chronologically, and then I'll tell how I reached the conclusions. Jefferson Davis Jackson was one of fourteen football players to attend an unofficial, in fact secret alumni/player party at the Lake Ocheekobee Country Club last Friday night. Jackson was having sexual intercourse with a woman named Janet Riordan, wife of University alumni and booster Tom Riordan, who may have been an organizer of the party. "During sexual intercourse, Jefferson Davis died--" "How do you know it was during sex?" Director Lewis demanded to know. I just looked at Tanya. "Director Lewis," Tanya said, enjoying the moment, "any good medical examiner knows that when a man dies during sex, his penis remains elongated, i.e. 'hard', and does not shrivel up as would happen after climax and the recovery period. Mr. Jackson's penis was still elongated when we found his body, meaning he was still in the act of sexual intercourse when he died. In fact, he was in the act of climaxing, which probably strained his heart to the point of the heart attack." "Thank you, Supervisor Perlman." I said. "And we saw that before in the case of the Jack Burke/Marie Arruzio murders, which was solved without SBI assistance." "Crowbarrrr..." I heard the Chief very quietly growl. "Yes sir." I said, acknowledging the chastisement. "Anyway, Jefferson Davis died during intercourse. Janet Riordan went and got her husband, who did not go very quickly, and Janet had to scream and yell at her husband to get him to move. Once Jackson was found dead, the alumni were panicking." "How... how do you know this?" Director Lewis sputtered, the shock evident on his face. "Mr. Lewis," I said, wearily and a bit testy at the same time, "If you will allow me to complete my narrative, all of your questions will be answered in due time. I'll put it all together in a very nice package for you, with a bow on top, if you'll allow me to finish, please." I continued as Lewis sat back in his chair, his face changing from amazement to skepticism as I continued. "Some of them finally took charge enough to organize the group. They got the players onto their buses and on their way home, admonishing them to say nothing about any party or any problems. They knew enough to keep quiet when the police came around." "Meanwhile," I said, "the alumni had a 240 pound dead body to deal with. Most of these alumni are not young and strong, so it took an effort to get Jackson into a Club tablecloth, load him into the trunk of a car, and away from the Club. "At the same time, some alumni were calling someone else to help 'clean up' in the aftermath. Mr. Cleanup advised the group to make sure to throw the body in a ditch in Coltrane County, to make sure that our County didn't get jurisdiction. And that's exactly what they did: they dumped the body in a ditch half a mile south of the County Line. "They dumped the clothes with the body, and someone took the Club tablecloth back to the club before the next morning." I continued. "Meanwhile, someone, perhaps two in the group -OR- a second set of people, did an extraordinary thing: they secured Jeff Jackson's body, brought it up the dirt road and over the County Line, and dumped it in the culvert where we found it... and it became the jurisdiction of our County." "Cleanup Man, whoever he is, does not know this, and calls the Sheriff of Coltrane County to go 'find' the body. He gets there as some of us are investigating, and finds the body has been moved, but the clothes had not been. He is later murdered by someone in order to get those clothes." "He was not murdered!" Director Lewis said angrily. "My agents investigated and found that he died of natural causes." "Director Lewis, your agents can't find water in a swimming pool!" I thundered back, whipped to anger by the arrogant and in-my-mind dirty SBI Director. "Your agents don't even run tests on samples provided to them. You have dirty agents, and you and they bend like willows before political pressure. The Coltrane County Sheriff was murdered, and by a lethal injection with a syringe. I have five, count them five witnesses besides myself that have already provided sworn written affidavits of their observations of the syringe mark, affidavits given to an SBI Reserve officer who has proven herself beyond corruption several times over. I'll be glad to put that up against your filthy agents' excuse for an investigation any day of the week, Director Lewis!" I stood up and leaned over the table as I stared into Director Lewis's hate-filled eyes, thinking of Ferrell and Ikea. "In addition, Director Lewis, I have proof that at least one of your agents deliberately conspired to plant evidence, tamper with an investigation, and frame an innocent man." "Bullshit, boy!" Director Lewis finally thundered back, protecting Ferrell and Ikea as if his life depended on it-- and maybe it did! I realized, but didn't release the anger from my face as Lewis shakily continued. "You better mind your fucking manners before you come around telling ME that MY agents are dirty, and accusing some damn good agents of being dirty... and you're a fucking hypocrite: you go around beating up people with that fucking crowbar. You better show me some respect, little boy, or I'll have you put in your place so fucking fast it'll make your head spin clear into the next State!" "I've got proof of what I just said." I replied back, lowering my voice just to make it sound more menacing. "And if you think your Lab was embarrassed before by not running samples, just wait until I prove that you're trying to cover up the murder, yes murder of Jefferson Jackson. No, Mr. Lewis, I have absolutely NO respect for you, and if you keep your shit up I'll bury you in that shit. If you really want to fuck with me, Lewis... bring it on! All eyes were on the Director, who stared malevolently at me. Finally, the Chief broke in, pulling me back to my chair. "Easy, Crowbar." he said. He then turned to Director Lewis. "I'll have you know right now, Director Lewis, that my Lieutenant is right about everything he has said, and I'll back him up 100%. And you may find that while you have that alcoholic rapist Nathan Allen on your side, I've got people on my side you can't even dream about. Now get the fuck out of my Headquarters. I might even suggest you begin considering what to put in your letter of resignation." Lewis was gaping at the Chief as everyone present realized they were watching a truly epic political showdown literally for the control of Law Enforcement in the whole State. "Nash, Ross, escort Director Lewis out of my Headquarters." Chief Griswold ordered when Lewis didn't move. "I'll have your ass strung up with barbed wire for this, Griswold." Lewis snarled as he got up. He hurried out before Nash and Ross could get to him. "Martin, Cindy, you can sit back down." the Chief said. Everyone started breathing again and were beginning to murmur when the Chief broke in again. "Okay guys, pipe down. Conlan, you've got a real fight on your hands with Lewis. Meanwhile, the rest of us have work to do. Crowbar, I believe you were saying something about a murder." "Yes." I said, calming myself down and getting my train of thoughts back onto the tracks. "Now where was I? Oh yes... the Cleanup Man comes in, gets the clothes, then goes to work to get the jurisdiction of the case turned over to the SBI, where it can be dealt with in a way that does not bring harm to the football team. State Senator Nathan Allen is brought in, as are the SBI leadership and others in an effort to get that jurisdiction away from us." "Let me say at this time that covering for the football team has been the lodestone of every action of these alumni, the cleanup man, the SBI, and a number of politicians. Sure, every school that plays major football has some dirt, but I noticed the extraordinary lengths being gone to in order to protect this University's program, and I realized that something else was not right." "Anyway, the football team really had nothing to worry about... except that I found out that my murdering psychopath nephew Ned was blackmailing the head coach. The coaches overreacted, a couple of them consorted with two extremely dirty SBI Agents to frame an innocent man, and that led to me getting a bit angry about it all." "But now, let's go back and discuss just how Jefferson Jackson was killed." I continued. "There are two drugs, one of which is a prescription medication Jackson is taking. This medication would not be particularly harmful to a healthy person that ingested a one-time dose. So this medication was put into the punch being served at the party, possibly by the waiter in charge of keeping the punch bowl filled, and the medication was in large enough quantity that an interaction with a second drug would kill Jackson." "That leaves the second drug to be administered, as well as viagra. Jackson himself likely took the viagra so that he would perform well sexually with Janet Riordan and perhaps other women later that evening. The second drug had to be administered specifically to him, so that no one else is harmed by ingesting both drugs." "So I suspect that Jackson was given a separate drink by Janet Riordan as they prepared to have sex, and that the combination of drugs as well as Jackson reaching his climax acted to induce what looked like a heart attack and a death by natural causes. Any toxicology report will suggest his own prescription medication, and perhaps the viagra and a PED he had been taking, though in large quantity. Certainly hardly enough with his history to suggest murder." "I would also add that whoever spiked the punch with the medication might not even have realized that he had done so. He might have been given the liquid to put into the punch not knowing what it is, or someone else might have spiked it. I suspect that he did do it, and possibly unknowingly." "Wow, so who the hell do we charge in this case?" Tanya Perlman asked, having caught on to the issues at hand. "That's just it, Tanya: who can we charge? This thing was very carefully planned, and very well orchestrated. Janet Riordan had to have been complicit; only she could assure that only Jefferson Jackson got the second drug. But unless we can show she also spiked the punch with the first drug, what has she really done? A good defense lawyer will shred the hell out of all of this. Our only chance is for someone to confess to something." "And that is what the SBI absolutely does not want." said Deputy Director Conlan. "They're going to come out with a natural causes verdict and try to bury this thing. They've already been humiliated enough, and no matter what Lewis says, he's been hurt politically by all of this in a very big way. You saw how upset he just got. I suspect that it's just as much that you, Lieutenant, know so much as it is about protecting his dirty agents. And by the way, I for one am glad you dressed him down like you did. I love the SBI, and if we're to have any hope of cleaning this shit up, we're going to need more of that. A lot more." "Lieutenant, do you think your nephew Ned was involved in the murder?" Martin Nash asked. "Not really, but I have to say this." I said, "There is an organization behind the people that I suspect committed the crime. This organization has possibly worked with Ned before, and obtained some of Ned's drug recipes. It possibly could be that Ned synthesized that booster that was given to Jackson in exchange for Jackson being killed so that Ned could blackmail Coach Harlan. However, I have absolutely no proof." "Why Jefferson Jackson?" Cindy Ross asked. "Why was he specifically targeted?" "What a great question." I said. "We have means, we have opportunity. But motive? For all of this? That's a lot harder. I can say this much... Jackson's medical condition and the medications he was taking made him ideal for the method of killing him." "Beyond that..." I continued, shrugging my shoulders and hands, "...we have Ned's blackmail motive, but this was one big operation just to get some money off a football coach, and to be honest, it's a lot more than Ned working alone. If anyone has an idea, I'll hear it gladly." "How about this?" said Martin Nash. "Someone wants to hurt the football program, maybe expose the PEDs, maybe someone has a grudge against a coach, and of course there are people who simply hate the athletic programs and the money they generate. So they kill one of the team's best players in a way that might expose the PED use." "And moving the body?" Theo Washington asked. "How does that fit in?" "That's a point." Martin said. "Actually," I said, "it fits in pretty well, and that's a good idea you have there, Martin. Whoever moved the body did so because they wanted it to be in our jurisdiction. The panicking alumni were told to leave it in Coltrane County because the Law Enforcement there is under-equipped to handle that case, and it would quickly go to the SBI... where Mr. Cleanup wanted it to be. But someone, and perhaps it was the original killers, didn't want that to happen. So they play along, and then come back and move the body later." "Wow." said the Chief. "This leaves about 20 alumni, 13 players and six or so wives that we're going to have to identify and then determine who was doing what." "Chief, I think we can narrow it down." I said. "I don't think any of the alumni moved the body, and the players had been sent home in one group on the bus." "Why do you say that?" asked Molly Evans. "Because, as Tanya will tell you, it took about six of us to get that heavy body out of that culvert last Saturday morning, and some of us were fairly strong men." I replied. "Whoever came to get that body and moved it were by definition strong men, at least two and maybe three in number. Most of the alumni are fairly elderly, and I'm not trying to be sexist when I say that the only women that would be moving that body would be Cindy and some of her competition friends... in their peak of condition." "So," I continued, "hurting the football program is a motive, blackmail is a motive. Any other ideas?" "How about embarrassing the SBI?" Ted Crenshaw said. "If so, it certainly has worked. We are completely torn apart as an organization." "Could be." Martin Nash said. "I'm hearing that the FBI might move in and investigate the SBI top-to-bottom. That will be one ugly mess." "It certainly passes muster as an idea." I said. "I'll add it to the list. And I'll add this to the list, as well: Jackson was specifically chosen because of his parents being associated with a race-hatred group. Somebody might have wanted that exposed, or wanted revenge, who knows?" "Okay guys, let's introduce our SBI Reserve friends to the Cop Bar." said the Chief. "It's suppertime, and no more about this case until we get back here, be it later tonight or in the morning." Part 29 - Sisters The Irish Pub, a.k.a. the Cop Bar, was packed. The Chief and DD Conlan stayed inside and talked at a table with the Fire Chief, while most of us Detectives went outside and commandeered all of the patio deck seating. I was at my usual seat at the back table on the patio, with Tanya, Paulina Patterson, Theo Washington, and his brother Franklin. Hugh Hewitt and Angela Harlan were at the next table with Molly and Teresa. Cindy Ross was choosing not to sit anywhere around Molly, and she was with Ted Crenshaw, Martin Nash, and Diana Torres. "We've brought Tommy and Candy in, under a material witness and protective custody warrant." Paulina said. Those were the two names on the list I'd given Teresa, knowing that we had to get to them before the SBI did. "They're at the station, and no one will get past Morton and Rudistan, who are looking after them." "Excellent." I said. "Tommy may have been the one who put the medication in the punch. If someone asked him to do it, I want to know who." "It's been a crazy day over at the Courthouse." Paulina said. "Franklin, you never had any idea it'd be like this, did you?" "I'm wondering what I walked into." Franklin said. He looked a lot like his brother, almost as if they were twins. Only when sitting together like they were now could one tell any difference between them. "Me too, bro." Theo said. "I'd heard about the Iron Crowbar down in Southport, but actually watching you work? That was a thing of beauty you did to Lewis, man." "Yeah, I'm making friends and influencing people again, eh Tanya?" I said with a grin. "I think Cindy wants to to kill you, because she thinks someone else is going to do it and she wants to make it less painful for you." Tanya replied. "Speaking of Cindy," I said, "I'd love to find a way to get her and her sister to reconcile. My conversation with Molly did not work, at least not to this point." "Yeah, that's going to be a tough one." Tanya said. -------------- "Hi Cindy." I said, pulling up to her table as Crenshaw and Tanya moved inside to the bar. Martin and Diana had been called back to Headquarters. "Talked to Molly much today?" "Nope." Cindy said. "You've been keeping her busy." "Well, she's not that busy now." I said. "Why don't you buy her a beer and y'all have a chat?" "I... I wouldn't know what to say." Cindy said. "Well, you know my problems with my sister, and they are far worse than yours." I said. "I suspect you and Molly were good friends growing up, and you can be again. Just go talk about it." "I know you're right." Cindy said. "But until she can accept me for what I am, there's not a lot to discuss." "I think she does accept you for what you are, Cindy." I said, "And what she wants to accept you for is her sister, regardless of who you're sleeping with." "I don't think so." Cindy said. "Well," I said, keeping my voice low enough to only be heard by her, "I'm going to be completely out of line with you again, because your my friend and partner. What I think you really want from her isn't acceptance of you as a lesbian, but acceptance of homosexuality in general. And that's asking more than you should at this point." The Murdered Football Player Ch. 06 I continued: "For example, there are a lot of men who are simply physically repulsed by male homosexuality, and all the religious excuses, political correctness, and the media shoving it down our throats as a political issue will never change that; they're going to abhor it at a physical level. If you just accept Molly accepting you as you are, you two can be great friends again. But you have to meet her halfway, and that's the halfway point." "We'll see." Cindy said, and I sensed she did not want to talk about this any more. Fortunately, both our cell phones went off at the same time. "Headquarters." I said. "Morton says we need to head back immediately." "Ditto here, but it's Martin calling me." Cindy said. Paulina and Franklin Washington met us at the door, having gotten the same calls. ----------------------- "Tommy confessed, and wants to formally confess." Martin Nash said as we entered Police Headquarters. "He told Morton and Rudistan that he did it as they were eating supper in the breakroom. They took him to Interrogation-1 and called me. Candy is in Interrogation-A with Diana Torres and a policewoman. She suddenly started confirming Tommy's story, just clear out of the blue started talking about it." "Oh shit." I said. "And it's gonna hit the fan big-time. Okay, I'll talk to Tommy. Paulina, you and Cindy get Candy's formal statement. Make damn sure to read her her rights with the videocameras rolling. I walked with ADA Washington and Martin Nash to Interrogation-1. We went inside. Tommy was seated at the table, and Patrolmen Morton and Rudistan were standing near the perp-side entrance. "Hi Tommy." I said. "Remember me?" "You're the golf player I talked to the other day." Tommy said. "That's right." I said. "I have to ask you some questions, but first I'm going to read this to you. Martin, are the camera's rolling?" "Yes sir." Martin said as he seated himself beside me. I read Tommy his rights from the card, then asked if he understood what I was telling him and what his rights were. "Yes sir, I do." Tommy said. "I waive my right to an attorney and to my Fifth Amendment rights. I want to tell you what happened." "Go ahead." I said. Tommy began a narrative, saying in clear, measured tones that he had poured both medications into a container of champagne and taken it to Jeff Jackson's makeshift bedroom. He said that Jeff and Janet were making out in the room, and that Jeff drank the champagne but Janet did not. "Tommy," I said, "you are sure you mixed the drugs together in the champagne?" "Yes sir." Tommy said flatly. "Tommy, are you sure that you saw Janet Riordan and Jeff Jackson together in that room? Did you see them having sex?" ADA Washington asked. "They were kissing." Tommy said, his voice even.
 
"Tommy," I said, "did you put any medications or drugs in the punch bowl that you served everyone? "I... I don't remember.. doing that." Tommy said. His voice had become confused, but also as if he were trying to remember a memorized lesson... or he was trying to remember something else that was now blocked. "Tommy," I said, "can you tell me why you put those drugs in Jeff's drink?" "I wanted to kill him." Tommy said. "And I did. I killed Jefferson Jackson." "Why did you do that, Tommy?" ADA Washington asked. "He was fucking Candy." Tommy said. "I walked into my dorm room, and they were on the bed. He was fucking her. I tried to get him off, but he shoved me down and then left." "Tommy, how many times did you see Jeff and Candy having sex?" "Just that once." Tommy said. I had an insight. "Was Jackson raping Candy, Tommy? Was he forcing her?" "He... uh..." Tommy stammered, his eyes all confused, then said again in a flat, robotic monotone. "Jeff Jackson was having sex with Candy. He was fucking her. I tried to get him off, but he shoved me down and then left." I glanced at Franklin and Martin. Then Tommy said, more forcefully, "Sir, I did it. I killed Jeff Jackson. I want to confess to his murder. I want to plead guilty to murdering him. I killed Jeff Jackson, sir." "Okay, Tommy." I said, "Tell you what, I want you to stay here for a minute. If you need water or a Coca-Cola, one of these patrolmen will get you something." I nodded at Morton and Rudistan, who acknowledged it, then I brought Franklin and Martin out into the anteroom on the HQ side. "Guys," I said, "the story won't hold. I had the University Hospital's most esteemed cardiologist tell me that mixing the drugs in solution before digesting them diminished the effect to non-lethal levels. So what Tommy is saying seems thin." "I don't know what to tell you." ADA Washington said. "He's trying to confess as hard as he can. Why would he confess, why would he want to, especially with a story that doesn't seem right?" "I don't know." I said. "It's almost like he's been brainwash-- oh holy shit!" "What?" both men said at once. "Brainwashed.... hypnotized." I said. "He and Candy and Janet Riordan all have been members of The Vision. They do a lot of hypnotherapy and shit like that. I wonder..." I went into a reverie. "Don... Don..." Martin said. Franklin added "Sorry to break you out of it, but we've got a guy confessing in there. And unless you have some miracle way of showing that The Vision fucked with his head, then that's what's going down." "Yeah, I know." I said. "But we do have one good thing from that confession." Franklin Washington said, smiling. "He saw Janet Riordan and Jeff Jackson together on Friday night. Once that's in writing and he signs it, it's probable cause to pick her up on a warrant for questioning." "Franklin," I said, letting a smile cross my features. "I am beginning to like you already." ------------------------- "Candy admitted that she and Jeff Jackson had sex," Paulina Patterson said, "but it's weird. She's talking in some kind of monotone, like she's repeating something she was told to memorize." "Let me ask her a question." I said. Paulina and I re-entered the interrogation room. "Hi Candy, do you remember me?" I asked. "Yes sir, you were playing golf at the club with her." Candy said, motioning towards Cindy Ross. "That's right." I said. "Candy, I just have one question: did Jeff Jackson rape you? Did he force you to have sex?" "He... he..." Candy said, her eyes glazed. Finally she said, her voice a flat monotone. "Jeff and I were having sex. Tommy came in and got mad. He said he was going to kill Jeff." "Did Jeff rape you, Candy?" I repeated. The women in the room looked at me harshly, but I stood my ground. "He... he..." Candy repeated, "Jeff and I were having sex. Tommy came in and got mad. He said he was going to kill Jeff." I tried another tack. "Candy, do you love Tommy?" "Oh yes, very much." Candy said, showing the first bit of emotion all evening. "We're going to get married." "So Candy, if you love Tommy, why did you have sex with Jeff?" I asked. "I don't understand that." "I... I..." Candy said, again becoming confused, then dropping into her flat, monotonous voice "Jeff and I had sex. Tommy came in and got mad. He said he was going to kill Jeff..." ------------------------- We reconvened in the main conference room. The Chief, myself, Tanya Perlman, Cindy Ross, Molly Evans and the Washington brothers were with us. "They've been hypnotized." I said. "Tommy's voice is a monotone, he repeats sentences exactly. Ditto that for Candy: her sentences are completely flat, a monotone. Not a speck of emotion in what either of them are saying, either, except for questions that are really off the mark that they can answer without being 'on script', so to speak." "Good luck proving she's saying that under hypnosis." Paulina said. "Right now, she corroborates Tommy's confession fully." "Yep." I said. "And a good defense lawyer is going to slice up his confession -AND- her corroboration like a Thanksgiving roast." "Maybe." Paulina said. "I'm going to have to talk to D.A. Krasney about it. It'll be his call on what to do. He might let you get a psychiatrist to work with them and see if they can be broken out of the hypnosis story. Anyone you know who is good at that?" "I've heard a rumor that the University Psychology Department has one of the very best in the world at that kind of stuff." I said. "And she's on the Police Auxiliary, as luck would have it. I hear she's good looking, too." "She's out of your league, buddy." Cindy said, making me laugh. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Molly looking confused. "By the way, Cindy," I said, "I have the answer to your earlier question: I believe Jackson was singled out to be murdered because certain people, and the organization behind them, wanted revenge for the forcible rape of their friend Candy. I also believe that Jackson forcibly raped Kip Starnes's girlfriend Abby, and that the SBI knows this from talking to Starnes and his girlfriend... and that the SBI is concealing this from us. But revenge for rape is the motive for murdering Jefferson Davis Jackson." ---------------------- It was quiet at 11:00pm at Headquarters. Cindy had told Molly about the 'out of her league' joke, and I thought that was going to lead to them having a serious conversation to work things out... but they started bickering, and Cindy reported to me that she was going home and then did so. Theo Washington was staying with his brother Franklin, and they had left together an hour before. I'd received a text from Laura that she and Carole were at my mother's, and that I'd have The Cabin to myself for the evening. That left me with Tanya, Molly, Ted Crenshaw, and the Chief in the MCD room, a great audience for Bettina: "This is Betting Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" said the indefatigable reporterette. She was going at it non-stop, and looked as fresh and lovely as she had early this morning. "Channel Two News has learned that the State Coroner's office and the County Coroner have released a joint statement that Jefferson Jackson died of natural causes, that he died of a heart attack that may have been abetted by his own taking of his prescription medications in an unauthorized manner. The SBI intends to close the Jackson case as a death by natural causes, and will find that there was no foul play in his passing." "As part of that finding, the SBI says that young Kip Starnes is no longer a person of interest in the death of Jefferson Jackson. Starnes and his lawyer issued a statement saying that they are considering legal action against the State for harassment and slander from investigational malfeasance." "In other news, Channel Two News has learned that SBI Director Jack Lewis is proposing to the Governor that the SBI Reserve Program be discontinued, and that all SBI Reservists be decommissioned as Agents. This program has been highly popular in the City as well as many counties across the State, and the City Mayor has issued a statement giving his support for the Reserve program to continue. The Governor's Office has not made any comment on this issue as of this time. This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" "Chief," I said, "when the news of Tommy's confession to Jackson's murder hits the airwaves in the morning, can I be the one to personally tell Director Lewis about it?" "Sorry, son," the Chief said, patting me on the shoulder, "you may not. I am pulling rank here, and reserving that pleasure totally for myself." We all laughed. "Folks, go home and go to bed, it's late." Chief Griswold ordered. "Great, great work by all of you today." Part 30 - Sex Prophecy Fulfilled I escorted Molly Evans to the University Hotel, where she was staying. We had a drink at the bar as we talked about the day. We did not talk about her issues with her sister, though we agreed that Cindy was a fantastic and professional Detective who had found her home with us, the Town & County Police Force. Despite avoiding any personal topics in our conversation, the sexual energy between us was electric. Every time our eyes met, I could feel my desire for Molly spread through my whole body. So when we'd finally finished our drinks and had had enough unspoken anticipation, it was was no surprise when Molly agreed to let me escort her up to her room. "Would you like to come inside, for a nightcap?" Molly asked at the door to her room on the third floor. We stepped inside. As soon as the door slammed shut behind me, Molly turned to face me, her unspoken lust and permission readily readable in her blue eyes. Without a word I stepped up to her and we fell into an embrace, our mouths meeting hungrily as we wrapped our arms around each other. Our tongues did sexual battle inside her mouth as the heat of the moment ignited into a roaring flame of passion. Our hands began undressing each other, unbuttoning buttons and unzipping zippers, letting clothes fall to the floor as we explored each other with our hands, our tongues still twined in our deep, wet kiss. Finally, I broke the kiss as I removed Molly's bra, letting her fine breasts spring free. They were not huge but plenty large, and they stood up proudly on her firm chest. I stepped out of my pants as Molly lay back onto the bed and watched me remove my shorts, her eyes smoldering as she watched my iron hard cock pop into view. Not only my cock was raging hard: my balls were like rocks. Before joining Molly on the bed I reached down and hooked my fingers into her lace panties. I slid them off, deliberately just a little bit more slowly than she anticipated, letting my hands and the panties slide over the skin of her firm, shapely legs. Then I climbed onto the bed on top of her, our mouths joining together again in a deep, hungry kiss. My mouth slowly trailed kisses down her jaw and neck, then down the valley between her breasts. Then I raised my head and sucked first one hard teat into my mouth, my tongue circling her areola before flicking the hard nub as my lips sucked hard around it; then the other tit, giving it the same treatment. Molly moaned as I sucked her breasts, my hands cupping and kneading them as my tongue began a slow journey down her firm abdomen. Her abs were not as well-toned as Cindy's, not a "six pack", but still Molly was firm and in great shape. As my tongue explored Molly's belly, I thought about Cindy, wondering if her hot hardbody would be like her sister's. The thought of Cindy only added to my sexual lust as my mouth unerringly continued towards it's ultimate goal of her sister Molly's sopping wet pussy. "Oh yes, oh baby," Molly moaned as I kissed the insides of her thighs, teasing her as I got closer and closer to her swollen, soaked labes. Molly was wet, smoking hot, and ready to go: she had obviously been aroused for some time, desiring to spread her legs for me and take the length of my manhood into her luscious womanhood. And I was nearly ready to make that happen. "Ohhhhhh!!!!!" Molly moaned deeply as my tongue made first contact with her slit, slowly licking right up the middle between her labes, from the bottom of her hole to her clit. I licked again and again, angling along one side of her labes and then the other, making the blonde beauty moan and squirm. My tongue delved more deeply into her cunthole until my mouth was pressed tight against her, sucking and munching as my tongue explored her hot, tangy honey-hole. "Oh jeeez, that's good!" Molly gasped as my tongue began flicking her swollen clit as first one then two fingers probed into her cunthole, searching for her g-spot. Suddenly I felt a gusher of liquid over my fingers as Molly climaxed, her cuntwalls tightening on my fingers as she gasped and groaned, her face scrunched up in painful pleasure. "Oh baby, that's enough!" Molly gasped, pulling me up to mount her. "I need you inside me so bad, baby. I've been waiting for this moment for days! Fuck me, Don, get that cock of yours inside me!" My mouth slammed into Molly's again in another deep kiss, then I slid further up until our loins were aligned perfectly. Her hands were guiding me but in truth we needed no help as my cockhead found her slit unerringly. Sensing her desire, I did not tease Molly but shoved my ass forward, driving my meat balls-deep into her tight quim with one hard thrust! "Oh GOD YES!" Molly cried out. "That feels so fucking good!" And it felt great for me, too. The heat of her cunthole seared through my throbbing hard cock as I slid out about halfway and then shoved it back inside her again. "Oh God, oh Molly!" was all I could gasp as we began a hard rhythm of fucking. Molly was shoving her loins at mine with each stroke, her hands and body urging me to fuck her faster and harder. It was clear to me that she did not want to take it slow and easy, Molly wanted to be fucked with brutal fury, and she intended to fuck me back with equal violent lust. The hotel room quickly filled with the loud smacks and slurps of hot fucking as Molly and I mated with nearly desperate intensity. We were driving at each other, clawing at each other, kissing each other wherever our lips could land. I slid my hands under her body, clutching at her fine ass as I drove harder and harder into her. At this pace, we knew neither of us could last. I was hoping that I could bring Molly off before I came... "AH! AUUGGGH!!!" I heard Molly scream into my ear as I felt her cunt clutch down on me with incredible power. It felt like she was trying to expel my cock from her cunt... which caused me to push even harder into her... which brought yet more deep pleasure to us both. I felt the tremendously painful ecstasy of my nut rising, the pressure building suddenly and rapidly, and I did not try to fight it. I gasped as I felt my cock firing spurts of thick semen deep into Molly's pussy, pulling her tightly to me to get my sperm as deep and effectively into her as I possibly could. I was coming, I was coming inside Molly! my brain told me, the joy of inseminating this hot, beautiful woman consuming the gray fog in my mind... ---------------------------- The bedside clock read 4:30am as I woke up. I was lying on my back and Molly was pressed into my side, her head resting on my chest as she slept peacefully. Our second fuck had been longer, steadier, and more deeply pleasurable. After a half-hour rest and pillow talk as we sipped on our drinks, Molly took my cock into her warm, wet mouth for the first time, coaxing me into iron-hardness again, and a very easy task, I might add. Molly's mouth was excellent, and she enjoyed deep-throating me several times as her hands massaged my aching balls. We experimented with her on top, riding me to her first orgasm, then a deep, wet dogstyle fuck. The feeling of Molly's firm asscheeks smacking into my loins as I held her waist and thrust deeply into her cunt was staggeringly good, as good as fucking Laura or Melina that way. I climaxed into Molly that way, then we collapsed on the bed, still joined, and rolled over for a nice 'spoon' fuck to finish up as my cock slowly lost its rigidity. Now, in the darkness, with only the sounds of the air conditioner and our breathing filling the air, I remembered that night in this same hotel when I figured out Elizabeth's plan for Todd, Melina and myself ((Author's note: see 'Todd & Melina, Ch. 4' to refresh your memories on that night.)), and I began to put new puzzle pieces together in my mind. I was not thinking of the particular case of Jeff Jackson, but of the much larger picture, even letting my mind roam into the past to see what once had been unrelated threads now fall neatly into their place... "Mmmm, Don?" Molly whispered as she woke up. She raised her head from my chest and whispered into my ear from an inch away "I love you, Don."
 "I love you too, Molly." I said. And while I deeply loved my wife Laura and would always go back to her, I knew that Molly was a special lady that would always have a place in my heart, just as Laura had special places for other men, and maybe women, in her heart. The Murdered Football Player Ch. 06 "Let me thank you for tonight, Don." Molly said as she began shifting her position, intending to go down on me. "I think I'm pregnant, and my dream of having your baby is going to come true. And I want to thank you for being the father of my child, Don... I want you to come in my mouth this time, Don. I want to swallow your cum." "Mmmm, sure baby." I said. I moaned as I felt Molly's mouth descend on my hardening shaft, just relaxing and enjoying the hot pleasure of being fellated by the lovely blonde policewoman, not even worrying about her words of possibly being impregnated by me... Part 31 - Morning Wrap When Molly and I walked into MCD together at 6:00am Friday morning, Cindy Ross was already there, drinking coffee at her desk and reading the news online. Her glance at us told her everything, and her facial expression told me everything. Tanya Perlman was also there, and poured Molly and myself coffee as she said "You were right about the SBI concealing the information that Kip Starnes's girlfriend Abby Winters told them. She told them right away that Jackson raped her, and they actually told her that he didn't and for her not to say anything else about it." "How did you find out?" I asked. "Ted Crenshaw found out for me." Tanya said. "Of course the blowjob I gave him helped persuade him. I do have one question: what does your wife say about average penis size?" "She says that five inches is average." I said. "Why?" "Pete is five inches." Tanya said, "and of course larger size runs in your family, if you and Todd are any indicator... so I found one of the shorter ones... much shorter one... that is keeping the average where it is, attached to Ted Crenshaw." "I'll be sure to tell my wife... for her research, of course." I said. Molly went over to Cindy and asked "Is this the normal conversation around here?" Cindy replied without looking up: "Sister, this is nothing. Just wait until Hugh gets here. He and Tanya will have a contest to see who can make Martin blush the most." I love my team, I love my team, I thought to myself as I drank my coffee... ---------------------------- The 7:00am broadcast was a thing of beauty, and not just because of Bettina's beautiful face: "This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News! Channel Two News has learned of another bombshell in the case of the death of Jefferson Jackson! Just hours after the SBI declared the case closed and the death by natural causes, one Tommy--" she named the kid's full name "-- voluntarily confessed to Town & County Police that he had murdered Jackson by spiking the football player's drink at a party. Chief Griswold of the Town & County Police issued a statement that the suspect insisted upon confessing to the crime, and the local police are now investigating further to corroborate the information given by the suspect." "Channel Two News has learned that the suspect confessed that Jefferson Jackson was having sex with the suspect's fiancee, who has given a statement confirming her affair with Jackson, and that this might have been the motive for the murder of Jackson." Bettina continued: "Because of irregularities in the suspect's confession, the District Attorney's office is proceeding with caution and asking local police to confirm the suspect's story. District Attorney Gil Krasney has not given a statement yet, but he is expected to later this morning." "Who the hell leaked all that to her?" the Chief asked as he walked into the room. "Crowbar, that's your next assignment." "Already solved, sir." I said. Everyone looked at me in amazement, except the one person who was the leak... "Come to my office." said the Chief. "Ross, Perlman, both of you as well." ------------------- "So, how did you find out that Jackson raped those women?" the Chief said after we were seated in his office. "I deduced it more than discovered it, sir." I said. "Jackson's parents mentioned a rift between families, then we had the story of Starnes confronting Jackson in the locker room, accusing him of rape. And despite what Tommy and Candy have allegedly confessed to, I remember seeing something in her eyes haunting her when we talked to them at Lake Ocheekobee Country Club. It fit, and quite frankly is the best and only real reason why Jackson would be singled out for death." "Interesting." the Chief said. "And that reminds me... in all my years of law enforcement I have never so much as seen, much less been asked to approve an expense from two officers for playing golf. Only you two could actually do that and make it work." He meant me and Cindy Ross. Tanya was not totally successful in suppressing a giggle. "But did you approve it, sir?" I asked. "Yeah... but only because I wanted to watch Payroll go ape-shit over it." the Chief replied, a merry grin beneath his twitching mustaches. "I think you're going to be even happier this morning, Chief... when Jack Lewis gets the news of Tommy's confession. He's going to really go ape-shit, as will Nathan Allen." "Harummph!" the Chief said. "And that's why I called you in... we have an appointment with District Attorney Krasney at 10:00am sharp... in Judge Folsom's chambers. That means you too, Perlman. You and Ross can head back to MCD; I need a word with Don a moment." After the ladies left, the Chief said to me "Okay, so who is the leak?" "Why Chief, it's easy to deduce." I said, smiling. "Jack Lewis can't go ape-shit if Bettina doesn't announce the information to the world... so I daresay the leaker was the person in that room this morning who hates leaks the most." The Chief's sideways look at me might have been a murder weapon if looks could kill, but his next expression was one of resignation. "Can't keep a damn thing from you. Get back to MCD and prepare for the meeting with the D.A. You'll need to be well prepared and on your toes for it." ----------------------------- Theo and Franklin Washington came in at 8:30am, both looking downcast. "The Riordans are out of state right now, attending the University's away game." "That's okay." I said. "They're both going to invoke the minute we talk to them. But we can force them to do that when they get home." "Something else about it." Theo said. "We contacted the Nextdoor County Police and asked them to watch for their return and let us know... and their Chief himself got on the phone. He dressed us down like dogs, then said we were to leave the Riordans alone." "Oh really?" said Chief Griswold as he came into the room. "I know their chief, he's a good man. I think I'll give him a call, and see what's going on." "No!" I said suddenly, then realized everyone was looking at me. "Sorry, Chief. I just realized why he was like that. If you don't mind, let me handle it Monday." Part 32 - Sisters, Redux Just before leaving for our meeting with the Judge and D.A., I strode into Vice and to Teresa Cunt's desk. "Teresa," I said, "I have tried and I have failed. I don't know how to get Cindy and Molly talking." "That's because you're a man, and men aren't worth a shit about things like that." Teresa Cunt said, very much enjoying her words. The other Vice detectives in the room were looking at her in utter shock. "Go to your meeting, Lieutenant. I'll take care of it." Teresa said. I quickly left. ------------------------------- Cindy and Molly were on opposite sides of MCD as they got their paperwork in order to close the Case of the Murdered Football Player. Teresa came into the room and came up to Molly, who was near the front door, closest to the door to Vice. "Molly, can I ask you a question?" Teresa asked Molly quietly as she pulled up a chair next to her. "Sure, go ahead." Molly said, her face a mask of inquiry. "Molly... if a drunk driver crossed the centerline and wiped Cindy out, how would you feel?" Teresa asked, her eyes boring into Molly's. "Wha... what? How could you ask something like that." Molly replied, shocked and indignant. "I'm serious." Teresa said. "If a drunk driver killed your sister, or if she died today, how would you feel? What would you desperately wish you'd have said to her that you didn't say?" Molly's eyes burned right back into Teresa's, who only nodded when she saw that Molly had seen the light. "Go talk to her now." Teresa said. Molly nodded and got up and went over to Cindy. "Can we talk?" Molly asked her younger sister. The two blonde tomboy policewomen left by the back door and headed for the conference room. My work here is done, Teresa thought to herself, and Don owes me a big one. --------------------------- District Attorney Gil Krasney was a tall, thin man with a full head of wavy dark brown hair that he kept fairly long and combed straight back. He had a long nose and dark, piercing eyes. He was a good District Attorney that delegated cases well and had his ADAs' backs, but he didn't like losing cases so we had to be on our toes with him. In addition, he was an elected official and very tuned to the political landscape regarding his office and his cases. Judge Folsom was a middle age man beginning to put on weight and his hair was beginning to gray... what hair he still had left, that is. His face was roundish, showing that weight was going to be a problem for him in the coming years. He was a decent judge, but tended to a bit skeptical and untrusting of the Police. Also at the meeting this morning were ADAs Paulina Patterson and Franklin Washington, myself, Chief Griswold and SBI Deputy Director Tom Conlan. Director Jack Lewis had made a point to refuse to attend, citing a meeting with the Governor in Midtown at the same time. "Don't get me wrong, Lieutenant," said Judge Folsom, "I understand that Dr. Searles and Dr. Fredricson will both give affidavits that if the drugs were mixed beforehand, their efficacy diminishes, and that that will make the kid's confession practically worthless. But it's still a confession, and this kid is already begging to plead guilty. So what is it you want me to do?" "Don't accept the guilty plea, Your Honor." I said. "If the District Attorney will ask for a psychological evaluation, and let the psychologists try to break the hypnosis I think the kid was put under, as well as do that for his fiancee, we might can get to the truth." "Krasney?" the Judge said. "Lieutenant, you said you do think this kid administered part of the drugs, is that right?" D.A. Krasney asked me, pointedly. "Yes, sir, but I can't prove it." I said. "You don't need to, the kid confessed to it." Krasney said. "Yes sir, but we're getting circular here: he also 'confessed' to mixing the drugs beforehand, and therefore that should not have killed Jackson." I replied. "What I can't prove is what happened: that the kid, wittingly or not, on his own or under hypnotic suggestion, administered the first part of the drug in the punch; and that Janet Riordan administered the second drug, likewise on her own or under suggestion." "And she's technically already lawyered up, and she and her husband very likely will do so again when we bring them in under the material witness warrants, and I can't even make a case for a criminal arrest warrant based upon what we have... or more accurately, don't have." added Paulina Patterson. "Krasney, if you're willing to ask for the psychological eval, I'll back that up." the Judge said, a technical victory for the ol' Iron Crowbar. "With respect, Your Honor," said Krasney, "if the psychologists do find that Tommy was acting under hypnosis, or that his girlfriend was likewise giving her statement under such hypnosis, it'll probably shred the case altogether and no one will pay for Jackson's death." "Likewise with respect, Your Honor," I said, "it's the same circle: the confession he gave will be shredded at trial, even if a Grand Jury or the D.A. brings charges. And if we put Kip Starnes' girlfriend Abby Winters on the stand, she'll testify under oath that Jackson forcibly raped her, which will cast doubt on Tommy and Candy's statements to this point. At least with the psychologists, we might find out the truth..." ---------------------------- It was early afternoon when I got back to Headquarters. It warmed my heart to see Cindy and Molly sitting side-by-side, discussing something... and I could tell they'd both had some emotional moments in the last few hours. "How did you do it?" I asked Teresa in the Vice room. She just gave me what passed for a smile for her. "Girl power." she said. "You wouldn't understand." "Well, just one last thing to do to keep them close." I said. "What's that?" Teresa asked. "Alcohol, to cement it. Let's take them to the Cop Bar tonight." "No argument from me on that." Teresa said. "I need some 'cementing' myself." ---------------------------- The 6:00pm news was chock-full of good stuff from the lovely Bettina: "This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News! Channel Two News has learned that the District Attorney's office has called for a psychological evaluation of young Tommy--" she named our confession wannabee. "The District Attorney is not satisfied that he is of sound enough mind to rationally confess to the murder of Jefferson Jackson." "Meanwhile, the State Bureau of Investigation has formally closed the Jackson investigation, brushing off questions that they withheld information from local law enforcement concerning the case. Director Jack Lewis was especially harsh in his statement that the Town & County Police, especially Chief Griswold, were more harmful than helpful in the investigation. "Chief Griswold replied by a formal statement that he had never seen such incompetence as the SBI's handling of the case, citing a laundry list of problems including the failure to run samples and failure to make available important information. Chief Griswold even went so far as to suggest the Governor ask for Director Lewis's resignation from the SBI." "Oooo-wee!" I exclaimed as we crowded around the MCD television to watch. Everyone laughed, more at me than at the TV. "And speaking of the SBI," Bettina continued "while the Governor has given no comment on the status of Director Jack Lewis, he has issued a statement on the SBI Reserve program. The Governor expressed his strong confidence in the program and his happiness with the results of it so far, and he says that the call-up model might be used more widely, especially if cuts are made to the current numbers of full-time agents. The Governor was quick to say that the Narcotics Task Force would not be reduced, compromised, nor affected in any way by the Reserve Program or agent cutbacks." -------------------------- "And then... Cindy gets on the sled and starts down, but it starts spinning... she's just flying down the hill, all arms and legs and spinning out of control all the way down..." Molly said between laughs, with Cindy beside her laughing hard. They were both heavily intoxicated already. "And then she crashes at the bottom... we all go running down to see if she's alright, and she just gets up and says 'Can I do it again?'" We all laughed at the story of six-year-old Cindy's fearless sledding down the mountain. Cindy and Molly had taken the back table on the patio of the Irish Pub, a.k.a. the Cop Bar, joined by Teresa, Tanya and Angela. I was very happy to see the bonding between the sisters: they had truly found a way to make amends earlier, and I'd bought Teresa a beer for her role in it. Hugh, Martin, Sandra Speer, Daniel Allgood and Theo Washington were at the table nearest the entrance to the building. Laura, Britt Morgan, Melina and Gayle Roberts were at a table near the front of the deck, partially obscured by the building and large, heavy shrubbery. I was sitting alone at the table nearest the locked gate where steps led down towards the parking lot, wearing my Tilley hat with full-brim, and somewhat disappointed that no one noticed the body armor I was wearing beneath my shirt and sportscoat. I was watching Jack Muscone, who had just gotten back into town, trying to compete with Ben Crenshaw and Pete Feeley for Tanya's attention. With great amusement I watched as Crenshaw and then Muscone capitulate. Muscone came over to me and sat in the chair to my left. I noticed that Jack was wearing light body armor under his clothes, as well. "Don, I just don't know what she sees in that guy." Jack said. "She likes your dick, Jack, but she's in love with Pete." I said. "And if there is one thing I've learned about life, it is to never, ever question the course of true love." "Yeah, good point." Jack said. "So where've you been, Jack?" I asked. "The State has just about torn itself apart, especially the SBI, and you weren't here to watch the fun." "I know, I miss all the good parties." Jack said. "I was in Miami. I was having to look into that mess about the Venezuelan diplomat getting shot in that gang-war drug-shooting. The guy was part of it, but the Venezuelans are raising holy hell about it anyway." "Just call him a spy... like the Chinese diplomat killed in San Francisco some months ago." I said. "The Red Chinese government clammed up as soon as the State Department came out with that." "Yeah, I know, I was there--" Jack said, then stopped himself as if he'd said too much. "What do you know about that?" he asked in a way of distracting me. "Just what I read in the papers and on the police blogs." I said. "Similar M.O. to Dr. Benjamin Mays, too. Did you check that one out, too?" "You're starting to know too much again." said Jack. "Keep it up and we're going to force you to join the FBI just to slap a confidentiality agreement onto you." "Heh!" I said. "Speaking of that, there may be a way I can help you guys out from time to time--" *RATTA TATTA RATTA TATTA TATTA* Splinters sprayed from the building above the door line as machine gun bullets plowed into the walls. Everyone hit the ground, some screaming. I turned as I went down, seeing a car with three thugs at the far end of the parking lot firing out of the windows of the car. It was a surreal moment for me... the screams seemed to fade to a near quietness. I could see very clearly the men firing, the bursts of light from their guns. I was on my feet, over the fence, my gun out and firing back at them, walking towards them in this seemingly unfeeling alternate universe. The car pulled out and screeched off, but I could see that my shots shattered the back window and passenger side front and back windows as they pulled away. Damn good shooting, I thought, even for myself. The noise and light and smells came back to me all at once as Jack Muscone ran up to me, gun drawn. I stopped him, saying "they're gone", and heard him ask if I was all right. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." I said. A large number of cops were surrounding me now. My shirt was ripped in two places where bullets had penetrated; my armor had held, I had not even felt the impacts when they happened, but the pain growing in my chest was about to amend that. But the pain was held by by something else I'd seen just as I was jumping the gate to go after the perps. Literally everything was imprinted on my memory, and I had noticed that Cindy had tackled Molly and laid down on top of her; hopefully whatever problems they had were now past them and they would be good friends as well as sisters going forward. "Jesus, Don, are you okay?," someone said, "you could've been killed going after them like that." I realized that it was my wife Laura, and she was trying to see if I was injured. Her quick examination showed that no blood had been drawn. Pete Feeley came up and gave me my hat, which had come off my head... a bullet had gone through the top, right next to the Airborne wings I had affixed to the hat. The Murdered Football Player Ch. 06 "My hat." I said ruefully as I looked at it. "Now this fucking pisses me off!" That brought some laughter and some gasps of disbelief. "Okay, folks, start collecting evidence." I said, as the weariness of my post-surreality high began overtaking me. "Perlman, you're in charge of this investigation, not just the crime scene but the whole damn thing. The first thing I need is bullet calibers and shell manufacturers, that'll tell us something about who's shooting at us."
 "Yes sir." Tanya said, taking charge. "Pete, let's start getting statements from people on the patio. Let's get a crime lab out here, Teresa. Cindy, Molly, see if anyone's been hurt. Theo, Martin, call the hospitals and clinics around here, alert them to a possible gunshot victim if Don's shooting was good..." Jack Muscone whispered to me "Don, any idea who the hell did this?" 

I was still coming off my unreality high, but I was able to say in a faraway voice "No, but three groups of suspects come to mind, someone who wanted to scare us, send us a warning, but not kill us... we'd be dead if they'd aimed worth a shit." "Three suspects?" Jack said. Tanya had paused from order-giving to listen. "Yeah... first, the dirty agents of the SBI, particularly certain elements of the Narcotics Task Force; second, someone from The Vision, who in my opinion was behind the murder of Jeff Jackson; and third... "... Mr. Cleanup." Part 33 - Police-capades On the next Monday, Janet and Tom Riordan voluntarily came to Police Headquarters in the company of their lawyers to answer to the material witness warrants that were out for them. Janet looked hot in a silver-gray blouse and black skirt and black high heel pumps. Her lawyer was a very high priced older man from the law firm of Chase, Lynch and Berry, and I found out soon enough that The Vision was paying for his services. Tom's lawyer was actually a University Law School professor named John D. Clifford, who was asked to help by a billionaire University alumnus whose requests one does not refuse. As expected, both invoked their 5th Amendment rights and refused to answer questions, and we had to let them go as we did not intend to arrest either of them. The Chief was watching Janet's "interrogation" with me behind the one-way glass of Interrogation-1. On the way out, I made a point of being in the hallway. "Au revoir, Mrs. Riordan." I said. "I'm certain I'll be seeing you again, and soon." "I certainly hope so, Mr. Iron Crowbar." Janet Riordan said, her eyes sparkling and a mischievous smile on her face as she passed by me. Her husband's look at me as he passed by a few seconds later was filled with venom. After they left, I suggested to the Chief that we visit the Nextdoor County Police Department, where he could have lunch with his friend and their chief, while I consulted with one of their detectives over the Janet Riordan case. He agreed readily enough. ----------------------- "Griswold, you old coot, you're still alive, much less police chief?" the Nextdoor County Police Chief said as he shook hands and hugged Chief Griswold. "You slimy rascal," Griswold fired back, "when you are my age, look this good you will not, hmm?" After their bantering and Griswold introducing me, we went into the Chief's office. The office, and the building, were much older and not as nice as our relatively new Headquarters facility, and I reminded myself to be grateful for what our Town & County had. The other chief said in reply to a question "Yes, I got that message about wanting us to watch for the Riordans, but I didn't understand it, they're fine, upstanding people. What was up with that?" "Oh, we need to talk to them as possible witnesses in that football player case." Chief Griswold replied. "They actually came in voluntarily this morning. In fact, that's why Don is here... Don, what did you want to ask the Chief about?" "Yes, sir, I'd like to have one of your detectives consult with me on some side issues of the case." I said as I handed the NCPD Chief a slip of paper with a name on it. The chief looked up from under his eyebrows at my chief. "Damn, Griswold, this guy is every bit as good as I've heard." he said, picking up the phone. "Ask J.R. Dixon to come in here, please." A moment later the side door to the Chief's office opened. Griswold gaped in surprise. "Chief Griswold," I said, "let me introduce you to Nextdoor County Vice Detective J.R. Dixon, a.k.a. Janet Riordan. "Well, look what the cat drug in." Janet said, her lovely hands on her hips as she stood in the doorway, her eyes full of contempt and amusement as they bored into me. If she'd been surprised at seeing us, she didn't show it; she was good, damn good, I thought to myself. She was dressed the same as earlier this morning... except affixed to her belt was a badge of the Nextdoor County Police. ------------------------- The chiefs were off to lunch as Janet and I sat and talked in a spot near the big lake, spreading a blanket and sitting on it and enjoying the beautiful weather. The sexual tension between us was very strong. "So, how did you know I'm a cop?" Janet asked. "Well," I said, "I know that you and your husband have children, but when we visited your nice home on the lake, there was not only no sign of any children at all, there was no personality in that house at all. Ergo, you may own the house, but it's not where you live on an everyday basis. Sure enough, your husband does own that house, and you and he use it to entertain other alumni... and perhaps for some of your swinger parties." "True enough, but how does that link me to being a cop?" Janet says, "My two identities have been kept secret from each other for years." "Well, hardly... Dixon is your maiden name. Anyway, you were working in the sex industry under an alias when The Vision people found you. They helped you to get out of the sex industry, and you became a Vice cop and began helping take drug dealers off the streets, drug dealers who were getting women on drugs and turning them to prostitution. And when your DNA came up on Jeff Jackson's body, I had my I.T. whiz run some research on you, and found one "J.R. Dixon" had been to the Police Academy, etc. "I realized you were specifically with the Nextdoor County Police when they wouldn't help us keep an eye out for you... they're not dirty like Coltrane County, so the only logical answer was that either you or your husband was known to them and protected by them... and so from there came to see you today. The only question that remains is: are you a mole for the police within The Vision, or are you The Vision's mole within the NCPD?" Janet took a device out of her purse and scanned me. "You're not wearing a wire, but turn off your cell phone." she said. I did so. The device she used was similar to the one Jonas Oldeeds had, which I'd purloined. The obvious deduction was big-time money, and that meant... "Ah, never mind." I said. "You're The Vision's mole in the PD." "Well, just so we're clear," Janet said, smiling, "I made sure they knew that I would never do anything to bring harm to any of my fellow officers, nor other police officers. That got sorely tested when you came along and had your way with me in my own bed." She continued: "But The Vision understands my position, and while I'm grateful to them for saving me from a very ugly past life, Harvey only asks for information from time to time... the kind of information that only the police can provide. The Vision truly is not harmful, like the FBI thinks it is." "I doubt Jeff Jackson would agree with your assessment." I said. "I'm not going to say anything about that, not on the record, off the record, or playing games like 'hypotheticals', and so on." Janet said. "But that racist Jefferson Davis Jackson won't be raping that sweet young girl Candy or any other girl ever again." Janet then said, lowering her voice, which penetrated with chilling intensity: "Don, the Vision is a great organization that has helped so many people in so many wonderful ways... but we're not about to let anyone destroy that, nor us, especially not the pathetic FBI. Mr. Eckhart is a wonderful man, and a powerful man. He knows a lot of things, and makes it his business to know what is going on around him and in this world. He is incredibly loyal to his friends, to those who help him; and he can likewise be very... problematic for those who cause him or his friends pain. He thinks very highly of you, Don, and he has for a very long time. Stay in his good graces, Don." "A long time?..." I asked, then fell into a reverie. But Janet brought me back. "Let me tell you something." Janet said, lowering her voice even more, her eyes boring into mine like fire. "We own Nextdoor County. We own Coltrane County. We own a bunch of local, town or county police in this State and a lot of other States. We own a third of the SBI, and our enemies own another third. But we don't own your County, Don. We can't seem to get in. And don't give yourself airs, it's not the Iron Crowbar that's in our way... it's someone else, someone with an iron grip on that County that even you have not yet perceived." "Oh really?" I said. "Well, maybe you have. Enough of that." Janet said, reaching over and unbuckling my pants. "It's time for me to get what I came out here for. I want your cock deep inside me, and your sperm searching for my waiting eggs..." After pulling my cock free of my pants, helped by me lowering them down my legs, Janet sucked me voraciously for a few seconds until I was iron hard, then she straddled me. We both moaned as Janet impaled her sopping wet cunt onto the full length of my little 'iron crowbar' and began giving me one hell of a hot fucking... Part 34 - Epilogue The University won their game the next day, Saturday, in not only an upset win but a 35-0 rout. The players were clearly motivated by and playing for their fallen comrade Jefferson Davis Jackson. Neither Dr. Laura Fredricson nor other eminent psychiatrists could break the hypnotic spell Tommy and Candy were under, though they were able to give affidavits that Tommy and Candy had been brainwashed and their statements were of unreliable value. Still, lawyers for both of them, provided by P. Harvey Eckhart's 'The Vision', made mincemeat of the prosecution when D.A. Krasney took it to trial. Paulina Patterson told me that jurors had actually erupted into fisticuffs during their deliberations, but after the 7-5 hung jury verdict, Krasney opted not to have a re-trial and thus let the case fade away for the time being. All of that was in the future. On this day, just hours after my lunch fuck with Janet Riordan, I arrived home at The Cabin, instinctively feeling and knowing that something was wrong. A motorcycle was parked against the garage wall near the steps to the front door. Instead of going into the house, I went along the narrow walkway around the garage to the back deck. Someone, an older man, was sitting on one of the chairs, enjoying the afternoon view. The white shock of hair told me who it was. "Ah, it's a lovely view, Don." said P. Harvey Eckhart. "I've been enjoying it while waiting for you." "How are you, Dr. Eckhart?" I said politely. "Pshaw, son, I've told you to call me Harvey; now indulge an old man, will you?" "I'm tempted every time I see you to call you 'Gruff'." I said, smiling. "Getting to 'Harvey' is going to take time." "Har!" said Eckhart. "And I don't need to ask you to sit down on your own deck behind your own home, but do so, please." I sat in the iron-weave love seat that Laura and I usually sat together upon, next to Eckhart in his own chair that went with the metal mesh table. He was wearing a black sportscoat and slacks, a light blue shirt, and comfortable black shoes, almost slippers. "So... Harvey... to what do I owe the pleasure?" I asked. "Is this a follow-up to my visit with Janet Riordan today?" "Janet says she enjoys you." Eckhart says. "She and others have told me that your penis size is, and to quote her, 'more than adequate'. That's good, it's a curse upon a man that has a small shaft. Ted Crenshaw, Steven Ikea, Jack Lewis, always trying to compensate for their small shafts." "You should probably be having this conversation with my wife, for the sake of her research." I said. "Ha! Yes, your wife is a lovely woman." Eckhart said. "She really is out of your league, as that Warner girl said, and you are indeed a fortunate man to have won her heart as totally as you have. But I'm not here about her. I wanted to tell you a couple of things, and tell them to your face." "First, I reiterate that The Vision is an organization for good, and that I want to help you in any way I can in the upcoming turmoil you're about to have in your life. I can be of great value to you." "But will the price of that be too high for me?" "That is for you to evaluate." said Eckhart. "The second reason I came here was about that shooting at the Irish Pub the other night. That was not me, nor anyone associated with The Vision." "I believe that." I said sincerely. "As you probably know, a body was found with window glass and a bullet from my gun in his head. He was a low-life drug addict, probably doing that job for his next fix. You use a much higher class of people in your work, Harvey. Even Gruff was higher than that dirtbag." "I appreciate that you've made that observation." Eckhart said. "Now I just have one question that is really annoying me: this is a lovely home, but why do you have bulletproof glass in those windows, and of such high quality? That was certainly no cheap job, and even your wife likely does not need that kind of protection." "I don't know." I said. "It was there when I bought the place. One of the previous owners must've installed it, but I have to say I'm glad to have it with my rogue nephew hanging around.... oh, by the way, Harvey, if you truly want to be on my good side, let me know where he is as soon as you find out... even if he has given you some of his drug recipes in the past, I will be in your debt if you deliver him to me... and I'll be your enemy forever if you don't." 

"I would love to help you in that direction." said Eckhart. "It wasn't me that had any association with him, though I make it a point not to know what some of my underlings and their intermediaries do. I'm sure you understand. Of course I've been looking for your nephew, too, and he is surprisingly hard to find. Wherever he has hidden himself, it is a wonderful hiding place, I must admit." He got up. "Well, Don, I'll come visit you here this time next year. It's going to be quite a year for you, if I don't miss my guess." "And you never do." I said, very sure. "I'm glad you realize that. I just wish that... someone else realized it. Oh well, au revoir, my young friend." "Before you go," I said, "allow me to compliment you on an excellent plan. Hypnotizing Candy and Tommy to ease their pain of Jackson raping her is probably not kosher, but having Tommy 'confess' to Jackson's murder, then having your lawyers ready to go to save him, that's definitely a excellent piece of work. Very well done, and not a damn thing I can do about it." "Obviously I will never admit to myself nor my organization being responsible for any such things," Eckhart said, "but I share your appreciation for that plan, and I hope you share my concern for the feelings of my young disciples Tommy and Candy. Wonderful young kids, they don't deserve for their lives to be filled with pain and anguish." "I'm sure." I said. "Again, au revoir, my young friend." Eckhart said. "I'll be speaking with you again soon, I'm sure." "Auf wiedersehen." I said as he ambled off. A moment later I heard the roar of the motorcycle as Eckhart descended the mountain road with unbelievable speed, way too fast for any measure of safety. A moment later the back door opened and Laura joined me in our seat. She had brought me a single-malt Scotch and wine for herself. "I heard that Tanya Perlman turned down the offer to be head of the State Crime Lab." Laura said, deliberately not bringing up P. Harvey Eckhart's presence on our back deck. "Yes, she did." I said. "She was polite enough, but said she wanted to remain a Detective here. Then, of course, she came back to me and complained yet again that she wants to be solving cases with us, so I promised that I would get her more street time that way." "What I heard," said Laura, "is that she wanted to stay here to continue working with you. And I certainly can't blame her for that." I said nothing as I took a sip of my Scotch. Mmmm, one of the good things in life. "So," Laura said, after a few minutes of reflection, "that was a very interesting moment with Dr. Eckhart." "Yes." I said. "P. Harvey Eckhart is to spiritual self-help what Jonas Oldeeds was to tele-evangelism. Both created huge empires... and both are snakes in the grass. But Eckhart is sure that this next year is going to be... interesting for me." "Yes." said Laura. "Some people think he's psychic. Do you believe in psychics, darling?" "I don't know." I said. "Sometimes I think you're reading my mind." "Mmm, and I feel the same about you at times." Laura said. "So what am I thinking right now?" "That we should go inside and make love before the baby wakes up." "Ooooh, you are a mindreader!" Laura said, then pulled me to her for a deep kiss. We got up and headed inside, my cock already throbbing with lust for my beautiful wife... Finis... for now.