Short sex stories

Erotic fiction and short sex stories




Case of the Parole Officer Ch. 02

The chronological order of my stories is as follows:

Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10, The Murdered Football Player Series, Case of the Black Widow series, Teresa's Christmas Story, The Case of the Black Badge series, A Case of Revenge series, Teresa's Summer Race, The Trilogy series, Dark Side Of The Force series, Caught In The Act series, The Phyllis Files 1-2, Case of the Murdered Bride series, The Credit Card Caper series, The Phyllis Files 3, The Hot Wives Investment Club series, Seriously Inconvenienced series, Case of the Paper Trail series, Christmas Mystery Theater, The Porno Set Mystery series, The Medical Murder Mystery series, The Eightfold Fence series, The Phyllis Files 4, Pale Morning Light series, Silverfish series, Cold As Ice series, Secrets of Apple Grove series, Sting of the Scorpion series, Reichenbach series.

Case Of The Parole Officer, Ch. 01-02.

Feedback and
constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.


*****

Part 5 - The Perp

"So," I said to Spratt, a parolee. "Your parole officer was there right at the time of this crime. Now that's fortuitous, if true."

"I'm telling ya, I was watching TV, just about ready to go to bed, and in he walks. Unannounced visit." said Spratt.

For those who don't know, a parolee has no rights whatsoever. A parole officer can enter the parolee's home without warning, permission or a warrant, and search the parolee's personal effects and papers at will. The parole officer can go into the parolee's home while he's banging his wife or sleeping, and the parolee has no recourse; he or she is a parolee, and worthless in the eyes of Society and the Law. Jim Brown, the legendary Cleveland Browns running back, took a prison sentence and refused a lighter sentence that included parole, saying (in so many words) that parole makes a man a slave of the State, but he served his time and was then free.

"Okay." I said. "What is your parole officer's name?"

"Ryan Frost." said Spratt. "I've made every one of my appointments, too. You can ask him."

"Oh, we will, no doubt about that." I said. "In the meantime, you can help yourself considerably for the future if you can give me any idea who might know your methods enough to copy them and make a burglary look like you did it."

"I got no idea on that." said Spratt. "I didn't tell anyone while I was in prison. Nobody asked, either. And if I'm going to teach someone how to defeat alarm systems, I'd want to get paid for it. Wouldn't you?"

"An intriguing thought." I said, knowing Spratt wouldn't understand that. "Okay, if your alibi checks out, we'll outprocess you immediately. Any questions from you guys?" I asked.

"Yes sir." Teresa said. "Howie, what do you do now to make money?"

"I drive trucks, make deliveries. Legally, and all legal cargo, too." said Spratt. "And I do odd jobs, transient stuff."

"So you have a CDL?" asked Teresa.

"No, but I don't need it for the trucks I drive." replied Spratt. "I don't drive the big semis, just the smaller delivery trucks."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

After the interview, I called Myron Milton. "Did Spratt have a cell phone?"

"Not on him when he was arrested." said Milton. "But since he's a parolee, you can go into his home and search without a warrant. You might can't take the phone, but we can get a signature."

"By all means, get with Captain Ross and organize that yourself." I said. "It'll be some good field training for you... Supervisor."

"Yes sir." said Milton. "I'll call Sergeant Rudistan now."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tuesday June 30th, 3:30pm. Cindy Ross, Christopher Purvis, and I were headed to the County Building on the east side of Courthouse Square. Teresa had said she'd have someone interview Parole Officer Ryan Frost, but I said I would take this one myself, and take Purvis with me.

Cindy then asked to come along. "I have to get out of here for a while." she said. I understood. She still was upset about the morning meeting disaster with Chief Bennett.

We walked instead of driving, and it was a hot but nice summer day. The parole officers were housed in an annex building behind the County Building and Courthouse. As we walked, I notice Cindy positioning herself strangely. Glancing over her (it's nice to be a tall Iron Crowbar), I noticed two old ladies on a bench along the sidewalk that led towards the First Baptist Church to the east, and the Catholic Church across the street from First Baptist. I was sure one of the women was old Mrs. Boddiker, but didn't know who the other woman was, and her face was half-hidden by a shawl.

"Nice day to feed the pigeons, isn't it, Captain Ross?" I said.

"Uh, sure, I guess so." Cindy replied, looking at me strangely as we arrived and entered the building.

The offices of Parole officers were in the basement. They barely had cubicles to do their work. The place was crowded, and many parolees had their monthly meetings on the last day of the month. If the air conditioner was working, it was not working well. The air was dank and smelly. If I didn't know better, I'd say 'Dirty Lennie' lived here.

We came to Ryan Frost's cubicle, and he was sitting at his desk. He had brown hair that was thinning badly on top, a pear shaped body, a reddish/florid face, and black-rimmed glasses that looked bad and made him look even more nerdy.

"Mr. Frost?" I said at the entrance to the cubicle.

"Yeah, what is it?" he snarled, then looked up. "Oh, sorry, I thought it was one of these parolees. What can I do for you, Officers?"

"Is there some place we can talk more privately?" I asked.

"Not really." he said. "Just come on in here."

It was crowded, and I let Cindy and Purvis sit down in the chairs next to the desk, their backs to the cubicle wall. "Mr. Frost," I said as quietly as I could, "I need to confirm that you were making an inspection of one Howard Spratt last week. Last Wednesday, about 9:00pm?"

"Yeah, let me check." he said. He brought up a log on his computer, which was an old model that ran Windows XP. The Office of Paroles was not getting money nor the best equipment from the Council, I noted.

"Yeah." Frost said. "It's right here. Last Wednesday, about 9:15 to 9:45. I've been watching Howie Spratt, but he was at his home, everything was fine, no contraband, no drugs, no guns."

"Does he make all of his meetings? Any problems?"

"He makes every appointment, no problems at all." said Frost. "And that in itself is what makes me wonder about him. Almost no one is perfect, they miss a meeting here and there, get caught with alcohol every once in a while."

"Maybe Spratt wants to clean up, get out of the system." Cindy said.

"Maybe." said Frost apathetically. "But anyway, he was at home that Wednesday night."

"Can I get a copy of that?" I asked. "Or an email confirming it?"

"Sure." said Frost. "But if I may ask: did Spratt do something I need to know about?"

"No." I said. "In fact, your timing was lucky for him. It exonerates him from a crime we're investigating." Frost said no more, but handed me a printed-off sheet of the log. "I've sent the email to the Police Department and A.D.A. as well."

"Thank you." I said. Cindy was about to ask something, but I silently cautioned her not to. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Frost, and we'll get out of your way."

Once outside, Cindy said "How did he know where to send the emails? And especially to which ADA?"

"It's not his first rodeo doing that." I replied. "So Purvis, what did you think of that?"

"Seemed routine." said Purvis. "Guy is overworked, as are all of them, is poorly equipped, and has to work in a basement cubicle with the mold smell all day. Makes me appreciate what we have at Headquarters."

"Yes, me too." I said.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Not much at all." Julie Newton said in Classroom 'C' at 4:30pm. "Mr. Myers had routine bills that were automatically paid. He was a member of the South Florida Yacht Club, the U.S. Golf Association, and the Sterling Society, which is a currency-trading group something like the Hot Wives Investment Club. No debts, no large financial transactions in the last several years."

"And his wife?" I asked. Also in the room were Lt. Croyle, Detective Purvis, and Master Technician Mary Mahoney, who had been brought in by me to listen in.

"You think he's boring?" Julie said. "She is the quintessential trophy wife. The Wednesday bridge parties are just about the only thing she really does, at least around here. She puts in an appearance at University functions now and again, seems to know most of the important University people, but not much else there."

"Spending habits?"

"None." Julie said. "Apparently she pays cash for everything, her husband insists upon it. She buys fashionable clothes, expensive but not flashy cars, such as Mercedes sedans and Lexus SUVs, trades them in every two years. Mr. Myers toodles along in old roadsters and Excaliburs, but he does not trade them very often at all, especially if he likes the car and enjoys driving it."

"Any travels?" I asked.

"Only to Florida." said Julie. With that, she handed me the file she'd compiled and I perused it. For such wealthy people, they sure didn't use credit much, nor have many activities.

"No travels to art exhibits, or purchases of any art?" I asked, handing the file to Mary, who perused it as I talked.

"Not since Mr. Myers's retirement." Julie said. "I also called Mrs. Wellman and asked if the Myers were art connoisseurs or if she'd heard them talking of attending any art exhibits. Mrs. Wellman said neither had mentioned art at all."

"Okay then." I said, handing Julie back the file after Mary returned it to me. "Any word from any art brokers or pawn shops? Croyle, anything from C.I.s?"

"No sir." said Teresa. "I checked with the FBI while you were out interviewing the parole officer. The underground rumor mill is very aware of the thefts at all the houses in the past few months, but so far nothing has turned up to be fenced. The FBI isn't seeing any activity, financial or otherwise, by people who like to buy art on the black market, either."

"What about the other crimes?" I asked. "Fill me in on them while we're here."

Teresa started her report: "Nine robberies, six at the Cloisters. On two of them, including the latest one, the alarm system was shut down by a shunt. You were in Apple Grove in April when the first one occurred. It is also the only other job where any art was stolen, but the worst of that crime was that over five million dollars in negotiable securities with coupons attached were taken."

"In most of the other crimes," Teresa said, handing me a sheet listing the inventories of stolen objects, "it was mostly silverware, firearms, cash, computers and related, television sets, gold coins, golf clubs, some rare old books about the Trojan War in one home, stuff like that."

"Which home had the Trojan War stuff stolen?" I asked out of curiosity.

"Professor Donohue's home." said Teresa. "He occupies the Herodotus Chair of Ancient History at the University. He's visited Turkey and Greece several times, especially the archeological areas believed to be where ancient Troy was. He's also written several articles on the founding of Rome and Carthage in those ancient times."

"Interesting." I said. "I have a painting and a matchstick horse that might be of interest to him. So, what were the various modus operandi of these crimes?"

"All were done while the homes were empty, usually over the weekend when the owners were away, but sometimes while there was a function going on at the Clubhouse. Very often keys were used to lock and unlock the house doors. On some, the alarms were disabled by key fobs, like those on car key rings."

"Wow, a lot of inside jobs, wouldn't you say, Detective Purvis?" I said.

"Yes sir." said Purvis. "And someone aware of the owners' various schedules. I checked to see which companies supplied their house staffs, hoping for a connection there, but six different companies were used. Maybe one could be penetrated or bribed, but all six?"

"Yes, that's a thought." I said. "Okay guys, good work. Y'all can go home for the day, and we'll pick up the trail tomorrow. Mary, you're with me."

"I'll come with you for just a second." said Teresa, obviously wanting to tell me something. I sent Mary to my office, then went into Teresa's with her.

"Speaking of schedules," Teresa said, "I told Purvis not to tell anyone else this, but he found out that every single one of those robberies was on a Wednesday, sometimes two on the same day... and on every occasion, Hendricks was the gatehouse guard."

"Consider me not surprised." I said. "Thanks for keeping this quiet. We'll work on that angle of it later. In the meantime, go home and we'll pick it up tomorrow."

I went into my office with Mary, who'd waited in the anteroom. She asked to plug into one of my internet connections. As her fingers flew over the keyboard faster than I could see, she said "There was something not in Newton's report that I want to check... ah yes, here it is."

She showed me her computer screen, filled with items from a credit card. "This is Mr. Myers's S.A.S.S. Mastercard. He used it for hotels, meals, and travel when he went to various S.A.S.S. shooting tournaments."

"Judging by the prices of the meals, and the single seat airline tickets bought, he went alone to these events. His wife did not go with him." I said.

"It's as you were thinking, sir." Mary said. "Julie's report didn't have those items. I don't understand why she could not have found them; it's pretty easy stuff to get."

"Interesting." I said. "Yes, why leave off the gun stuff? Oh well... good work, Mary. For your next assignment, I want you to exercise this warrant that is under seal. It authorizes you to get into the files of the County's various parole officers. Their equipment is old; you may have to hack into each of them, so ask Myron to help if you need it. I especially need Ryan Frost's files and information, but the information of the others would be helpful, as well."

"Yes sir." Mary said, taking the warrant with her as she left the office.

Part 6 - Case Review

"Daddy!" called out my daughter Carole, uttering that wonderful word as I got home around 7:30pm. My mother was keeping Carole while Laura was in her Washington meetings.

"Hi Carole!" I said, taking her from my mom and giving her a big hug, then sitting down in the den with her. "How's my big girl today?"

"Daddy, Bowser go out." Carole said. I looked down. Sure enough, a fine looking blonde-coated dog was sitting there, looking up at me.

"Hi Bowser!" I said. "Do you need to go out?" Bowser wagged his tail as he got up and walked towards the back door.

"Carole, want to go out with me and Bowser?" I asked.

"Yeah." she said. We all went out onto the patio while my mother took care of little Jim inside. I sat down on the metal mesh seat on the patio, looking over the Town as Bowser went to do his business, with Carole paying attention to my badge on my shirt. Then I noticed her look up over my shoulder and smile.

"Cin-dee." Carole said. Looking back, I saw that it was indeed my Police Force partner.

"Hi Carole!" Cindy said happily. "How are you?"

"Good!" Carole said, surprising me. "Daddy and Bowser go out." she said, explaining our outdoor mission. That surprised Cindy, too.

"She's been able to talk but hasn't said much until recently." I said. "Now we can't get her to stop. Not that that's a bad thing."

"It sure is a good thing." Cindy said, taking Carole and sitting down with her in the chair next to my seat. Bowser bounded up and came up to sit beside me, watching Carole and Cindy.

"So, Partner," I said as I 'skritched' Bowser, "what brought you up here?"

"I just need to talk to someone." Cindy said. "And I figured either you or your mother would do."

"About the case?"

"That's part of it."

"Okay, shoot." Just then my mother Phyllis came up, holding little Jim. She sat down on the other side of me, ready to listen.

Cindy started. "I finally figured out what's been bugging the sh--, er, the stuffing out of me about this case. I think Mr. Myers is not one hundred percent there, if you know what I mean. And Mrs. Myers has the arts degree, but seemed to have little idea about the value of the art in her husband's collection."

I smiled. Cindy was on it. "Yes." I said. "I'm waiting for Carole's mommy to get back home--"

"Mommy go to meetings." explained Carole, having heard that phrase too many times for our liking. Phyllis was beaming at Carole.

"And when she gets back, I'm going to ask about Mr. Myers." I said. "Look at it this way: Mr. Myers was smart enough to take two hundred million dollars out of the bond markets. Now I'm fairly intelligent, but you don't see me taking two hundred million dollars out of the markets. And then this guy makes what really were smart investments in paintings, especially that Greuze and some of the antique firearms... but he then has no emotion about the thefts. That's something for my favorite psychiatrist to ponder, eh Mom?"

"I could not agree more, son." Phyllis said.

"And you're right, Cindy..." I said, "his wife is outwardly intelligent, but I'm not sure she realized how much that Greuze is worth. It's a strangeness, for sure."

"Well," said Cindy, "her husband did tell her it was a replica, and she might not have looked very hard at it... oh, wait..." And I had the pleasure of watching Cindy's first reverie about a case. My mother and I both watched in fascinated silence.

A moment later, Cindy came out of it. "Man, I don't know how you do it."

"Sure you do." I said. "And you're getting good practice now."

"At any rate, I'm sure you'll have the case solved by this time tomorrow." Cindy said. "What do you think, Carole?"

"Daddy smart." Carole said. "Cin-dy smart too."

And so are you, Carole, I thought proudly. So are you...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Come on in, Sonali." Teresa said. Sonali came into Teresa's office and sat down in the chair in front of the desk, opening her laptop computer. The window behind Teresa was going dark as the sun was setting. There was not a lot of room, but it was better than the days the Commander had occupied the office while a Lieutenant, Teresa thought. "What do you have?"

"Two things, ma'am." said Sonali. "First is a list of eight possible suspects in the seven other burglaries in the 3d Precinct. And second, there was another attempted burglary in the Heritage Cloisters, but it did not show up because it is not listed as a burglary. The homeowner was at home, and he shot the intruder dead. The intruder's name was Jonas Grumby, and he was known on the Streets as 'Solomon Grundy'."

"Email me that." said Teresa. "I'll forward it to the Captain."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Cindy's phone rang as we were talking in the den. Carole began crying and hugging me tightly. I understood why.

"Don't worry, baby." I said. "Daddy is not going anywhere. I'm staying right here with you. Now pet Bowser and make him feel better." Carole stopped crying as she was distracted, and she reached down and petted Bowser's head as he sat next to us. Bowser looked up at Carole with pure love in his eyes.
Hanging up, Cindy said "Teresa is sending me some emails of data Sonali found. She cc'd them to you, too." I got my laptop off the den table in front of the sofa, and opened it to the emails as Cindy read the emails on her police cellphone. Then Cindy made a call back to Teresa.

"APBs for all of them." Cindy said. "Take them to County Lockup."

Meanwhile, I was calling Mary Mahoney Milton. "Hi Mary," I said. "Sorry to call you at night on your off-time, but I'm going to send you some data, and I need for you to correlate something... oh, Myron got phone signatures? Great..."

Part 7 - Alibis and Alibis

At 4:00am, Wednesday July 1st, I entered the County Jail and Precinct 3 Headquarters. All my 'Angels' were there, and Teresa was making coffee. Detective Purvis, Detective Nash, and Myron Milton were also there.

"Mary was up half the night running this, so I told her to sleep in." Myron said, to my hearty approval. He gave me the data she'd compiled.

"Very good stuff." I said, perusing it. "Okay, let's get it out of the horses' mouths--"

"What is going on here?" The voice was Precinct Captain Susan Weston's. She had just arrived, was wearing plainclothes, and looked as if she'd rushed out of bed to get here. Apparently someone had called her to come in, since her direct boss (me) was here.

"Ah, good morning, Captain Weston." I said. "We are about to interrogate some potential perps in the Cloisters burglaries. Feel free to watch."

"I understand, sir." said Weston. "But I understand these cases were assigned to Vice. Do we really need Lieutenant Perlman here?" That was a direct shot, as Perlman and Weston had no liking for each other.

"As you were, Precinct Captain Weston!" The voice was (full) Captain Cindy Ross's, and she had squared up to Susan Weston. "Lieutenant Perlman is here because I want her here. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Yes ma'am, I do." replied Weston, not backing down. "She has no place here." I actually was happy to see that, but I had to prevent a blue crowbar beatdown about to commence.

"Your complaint is noted, Ms. Weston," I said, "but Perlman's place is where her boss says it is, and that's right here right now. Okay, Ross, let's get these interviews going." Weston left us for her office, to everyone's relief.

"I wish Sergeant Rudistan had been here to see that." said Martin Nash. "I'd love to hear what he'd say about it."

"Remind me to steel myself against your 'pawky' sense of humor, Mr. Nash." I said, trying hard not to laugh and pretend to be serious. But the thoughts of what the mischievous Rudistan might say did lighten the mood for all of us.

One by one, Purvis and I interviewed the suspects. And one by one, a continuing pattern emerged.

"I was at a meeting with my parole officer." one perp said.

"Who is that?" I asked.

"Ryan Frost."

The next perp said he was being surprise inspected in his apartment. The parole officer making the search? "Ryan Frost."

Two perps did not say 'Ryan Frost', but 'Sarah Carter' as the parole officer they were assigned to. Sarah Carter mostly had female parolees assigned to her, as the County was wise enough to disallow male parole officers to invade female parolee's homes without a female parole officer present.

Once done, I went into the anteroom. "Say no more here." I said. "Main conference room at Headquarters. Let's go there now."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fortified with mugs of coffee and two pots on the hot plates, we met in the Main Conference room.

"Myron," I said quietly to him as everyone was getting their coffee and settling in. "What did you get on the cellphone signatures at our boy Spratt's home?"

"He had two phones there, both powered off." said Myron. "One was a personal cell phone registered to his name. The other was a burner, and had the name of a trucking company in the saved list, so I think he uses it while on the road. That phone did ping off the nearest tower to the Heritage Cloisters at the time of the crime. More interestingly, there was a phone call on it at that time... want to guess where to?"

"West Palm Beach, Florida?" I said. Myron shook his head in amazement.

"Damn, nothing gets by you." he said. "It was near there: Boynton Beach, which I think is just south of West Palm Beach."

"It is." I said. "Great work." We sat down with the rest of the group.

"Well, folks," I said to start the meeting, "what were your impressions of those interviews?"

"All of them had alibis with the same parole officer for the times in question?" asked Martin Nash. There was a murmur of agreement.

"Exactly." I said. "As Dame Agatha Christie pointed out: 'You can always have once coincidence. You can never have two.' And we now have what, eight or nine such coincidences; therefore, we have none. And the two that had Sarah Carter, that's not a coincidence, either."

"So I need to go talk to Mr. Frost and Ms. Carter about this?" asked Detective (J.G.) Purvis.

"No no no no." said Tanya Perlman. "You'll tip them off. If they're covering for these perps doing the crimes, we need to get some proof of that and then bust them."

"Exactly." I said. "And right now we don't have a thing on Frost or Carter. And at the risk of offending my Lieutenants, I'm going to give some direct instructions: Purvis, I want you to start digging into Frost's background. Don't ask the data miners nor the Abacus for help, nor tell them what you are doing; do it yourself and give Lt. Croyle any information you find. Look into his personal life, finances, all that stuff. Nash, do the same for Carter. Melt the wires."

"Tanya, Teresa, get all the existing information and put it together. Myron also has some phone data for you. Just you two on it, I don't want half the Force knowing what's going on. Obviously, I'm trying to mitigate leaks. Last but not least, Captain Ross, you'll be working with me to set up a sting. We're doing this ourselves so that if it goes wrong, it's my ass hanging in the breeze, and not any of y'all's."

"Sir," said Myron, "there is that one other case Sonali found."

I smiled at Myron... an evil, ugly smile that no perp wants to see on the features of a man that wields a red crowbar. "You anticipate me, Mr. Milton." I said, my voice dripping with sinister intent. "You anticipate me."

Part 8 - Pain and Suffering

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" blared the lovely redheaded reporterette at 7:00am, still Wednesday, July 1st. "Channel Two News has learned that the Town & County Police Department has made several arrests connected with the spate of burglaries at the Heritage Cloisters subdivision. Third Precinct Captain Susan Wexler, in an exclusive statement to Channel Two News, said that her precinct's officers made the arrests overnight, and that the suspects are being interviewed for information. Captain Wexler also said that they may not be the actual perpetrators of the various crimes, but are simply persons of interest that may have information that will help Third Precinct Police solve these cases."

"My God, the effrontery of that." said Cindy Ross. Lt. Perlman was scowling, also, as we watched.

Bettina then said "Channel Two News is very happy to announce our new addition to the Sports Coverage Team. Nick Eastwood will be bringing you news and inside coverage of the University football team that he was a part of the last four years, as well as all the other Sports news for the County. Welcome, Nick!"

Nick Eastwood appeared on the screen, smiling just a bit too brightly, and all of the women in the room were paying rapt attention... except Cindy Ross. "Thank you, Bettina, and it's great to be working with the best news team in the State! We're going to be fully covering the County Triathlon this weekend. With Police Captain Cindy Ross and her partner Lieutenant Teresa Croyle not defending their titles from last year due to injury, the field will be wide open for anyone willing to endure the grueling race for the championship..."

"Hell," said Cindy, "I'm ready to enter and whip all their asses right now. Whaddya say, Teresa?" That got a very determined look in her direction from Your Iron Crowbar.

Jabbing my finger at her with each word, I said "Don't. You. Even. Think. A-bout. It." Cindy grinned and everyone else laughed.

"I think she's pulling your leg, sir." said Detective Joanne Cummings.

"She damn well better be." I said acerbically. Everyone knew that I wasn't really angry, but was speaking out of concern and love for my partner.

"Seriously," Martin Nash said, "who is going to be the Police team?"

Cindy said "Claire Michaels and Hugh Hewitt. I've been training them. They've got an outside chance to win if they have the intestinal fortitude."

Teresa Croyle replied "My money is on Todd Burke and Teddy Franklin, the BOW Enterprises team. So who are you rooting for, Commander?"

"Ah, the devil or the deep blue sea." I said, deftly avoiding Teresa's trap. "I'm rooting for all to do well and no one to get hurt."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

At 8:00am I was called into the Chief's office. He did not invite me to sit down, having me stand in front of his desk as he spoke.

"Commander, I received a call from Precinct Captain Wexler." he said. "She is very upset that Captain Ross berated her in her own headquarters this morning, and believe that Captain Ross was out of place to do so. She is threatening to file a Union grievance against Captain Ross for that."

"And she went over my head to you." I said.

"Can you blame her?" the Chief said. "You'll just take up for your partner... and family member... without giving any thought to the facts."

I struggled to keep command of my temper. "The facts, sir, are that Weston harassed Lt. Perlman first. Captain Ross took up for her officer in an excellent example of leadership. Ross was right; Weston was dead wrong. I was there and witnessed the whole thing, so I know the facts. And I may just mention to the Sheriff, going over your head, that Precinct Captain Weston is showing herself to be unfit for the position she is in."

Before Bennett could continue, I leaned over the desk and said "I'm too busy trying to wrap up these burglaries and what I see as some other crimes, to deal with this shit, Chief. I'm not going to play any more games. I'll just tell you this: if Ross leaves, I leave. You may think that's a good thing, Chief, but it won't be. And I won't go quietly, it'll get ugly. Now make your choice, Chief. Keep it up, or leave me and Ross the hell alone." I turned to go.

"There's one more thing before you go." said the Chief. "The SBI has opened an investigation into Henry Wargrave's death, and they want to interview you and Captain Ross. I have told them that we will cooperate fully in every way, and I expect you to make yourself and Captain Ross available to be interviewed."

"Yes sir." I said.

"Get out of here." the Chief said. I executed that instruction as quickly as I could.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I appeared at Ryan Frost's desk, with Detective Purvis in tow.

"Guys, it's a busy morning." said Frost.

"I understand, and I'm in a hurry myself." I said. "I just want to confirm three parolees had meetings with you at certain times." I named the first one. Ryan got onto his computer calendar, then said "Yeah, Tom Jones, he was meeting with me that evening."

"What about Dick Harris?" I asked, naming a date and time. Ryan confirmed it.

"And Jonas Grumby?" I asked, again supplying the date and time.

"Uh yeah, there he is right there. Home inspection at that hour." said Frost.

"Can I get a copy of these three items in your log?" I asked. Ryan provided a hard copy.

"Thank you, Mr. Frost." I said, smiling. "See you later."

"Don't take offense, but I hope not." said Frost sourly as he returned to his work.

As we walked outside, I asked Purvis "Did you witness that?"

"Yes sir, I did." replied 'Chris Pervert'. This case was getting better by the minute.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

SBI Agents Greenwalt and Carter Fischer appeared at Headquarters about an hour later, to interview Captain Cindy Ross and me, Your Iron Crowbar. Cindy and I long since had gotten our stories straight on this, so it was a matter of recitation as I spoke with them in the Main Conference Room of Police Headquarters.

"The cameras at the front of the Cannon Building show you and Captain Ross walking up to the crime scene not long after Mr. Wargrave fell from thirty floors up." said Agent Fischer. I remembered him from the Murdered Football Player case; at the time he'd seemed okay, but now I could see he was hostile to me. I need not say that Greenwalt was still immature as well as hostile.

Fischer continued: "We also have reports of helicopters landing on the roof just before Mr. Wargrave's death, possibly shots being fired, and we have other reports of you and Captain Ross taking a helicopter from University Hospital to the City, and that helicopter matched the one seen coming to land at the Cannon Building."

He paused, as if expecting me to say something. I sat and waited, making him look and feel foolish in the long silence that followed.

"So, Commander Troy, is that all true?" Fischer finally asked.

"Finally, a question." I said acidly. "And my answer is: I don't know. I can't speak to any shots being fired, but Captain Ross and I did arrive by helicopter to the Cannon Building, as we were attempting to assist the FBI in arresting Wargrave. However, by the time we arrived, he had jumped out his window to his death. We went downstairs to the scene, finding the City Police already having taken charge of it. So we left and came home."

"You did not see Mr. Wargrave in his office?"

"We arrived too late." I replied.

"Who else was in the helicopter?" asked Fischer.

"It was me, Ross, and the pilot." I said. An omission is not a lie. So said Commander. Spock, so says Commander Troy, I thought to myself.

"What was the pilot's name?"

"I didn't ask." I said. Well, it wasn't a lie, I really didn't ask since I already knew who he was.

Fischer looked at me suspiciously. Greenwalt looked like he had his thumb up his ass. Fischer tried his gambit: "Commander... we talked to Captain Ross before talking to you. Her story differs from yours."

"Oh really?" I said. I wonder if they were seeing the gleam in my eye, I thought to myself.

"Yes." Fischer said. "So why don't you come correct with the real story?"

"Well, guys," I said, "I know that what I told you is not different than what Captain Ross told you. But since you've just accused me of committing a crime, at this point I'm not going to answer any more of your questions about this case without a lawyer present." I got up. "You guys have a nice day, and tell Director Lewis I said hello."

My words were not idle nor polite; they were an insinuation, one I was sure Director Lewis would not fail to understand if and when his agents conveyed the message. I left the room and went back to the sanctuary of my office.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"You've come a long way." I said to Cindy as we talked later in my office. I need not say the anti-bugging device was on full power. "You were the squeamish one over Nathan Allen. But with Wargrave, you had no problem helping me conclude that investigation with extreme prejudice. Welcome to the Dark Side."

Cindy smiled. "Well, I'm not sure it was the right thing to do. But as the old saying goes, 'if you hit me first, you better kill me'. He didn't kill me, soooo..." She shrugged her shoulders. I understood, smiling.

"Yep," I replied, "my nephew Ned found out the same thing, the hard way."

Cindy nodded, then said "You were right that those SBI Agents would try a dirty trick. They told me they had video footage of us in Wargrave's office. And I did just as you said, I said they were lying, but since they were making an accusation, I wouldn't talk to them any more without a lawyer present."

"Yeah, Lewis is reaching, clutching at straws." I said. "I think he wants to pin this on us, or on me at least, and it didn't work."

"You think he knows?" Cindy asked, her voice nearly inaudible.

I smiled. "No. Unless he has a... 'Consultant' that told him. But I think he has other reasons for trying to stick this on me, the reasons we talked about before." I noticed Cindy peering at me as I said that last sentence.

"In the meantime," I continued, "I want you to come to The Cabin this Friday. Laura, Melina, my mother, and other ladies are having some sort of 'Girls Night Out'. In the meantime, Molly and Ross are coming up for the July 4th weekend and staying at The Cabin with me, Carole, Jim, and of course Bowser. You'll have a chance to talk to Molly about... everything."

"Oh boy." Cindy said. "I... I don't have any idea what to say about all of that."

"It'll work out." I said. "And probably more easily than you realize. At any rate, it's either The Cabin's deck... or Laura's sofas. You make the call."

"The deck, no doubt." Cindy said. "The view is better." she added, her words fooling no one present.

"A wise decision." I said, then I hit her with the bombshell. "I've invited Jenna to join us for dinner, also."

Cindy's blue eyes widened like saucers. Then she recovered.

"I do need to say one other thing." Cindy said. "I saw how you looked coming out of the Chief's office, and it doesn't take being a Michaux to see what's going on with him regarding me. I've been thinking that I can accept the FBI's offer and join them full time, and work with Jack and his crew. Then you can promote Tanya to the Captain slot, which will make her happy, and then hire Molly into MCD, maybe as its Lieutenant."

"First of all," I said, fingering the anti-bugging device in my hand, "if you think you being my cousin though we didn't know about it for a long time is an issue, how do you think it would go over if I tried to put the mother of one of my children, with another on the way, into a subordinate slot like that?"

"Second," I said, "while Tanya is doing a good job where she is, why do you think I automatically would promote her to your slot, or would be allowed to?"

"Who would they put there?" Cindy asked.

"Weston." I replied. As Cindy absorbed that one, I said "Last, I'll tell you what I told the Chief: if you leave, I leave." After a pause, I said "Look, do you trust me to handle this situation and resolve it to our betterment?"

"I guess so." Cindy said. "But I'm not taking much more shit from that man. Yeah, let's leave here together, if that's what it takes. We'll be fine. He won't."

"We'll talk about it more later." I said. "You and I have some crimes to solve... and if I'm right, some new ones to discover." I got up and Cindy got up and we left the office. She had not noticed that I had turned off the anti-bugging device for the last part of the conversation... and that Internal Affairs was listening in, full force.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I had a mission to do while Cindy met with Tanya and Teresa, planning a mission to bring in some witnesses for our case. I put on plain clothes, put my badge further left on my belt so it wasn't easily seen and was covered by my jacket.

Leaving my crowbar in the SUV, I entered Precinct 3 by the side door. There was activity as Deputy Sheriff's brought criminals out to take them to the Courthouse, and others being brought in. Police were milling about, as well. I walked along the hall and to the Duty Desk counter, then right through behind two uniformed officers. Once inside, I headed down the hall to PCpt. Weston's office, in the back left of the Precinct side of the building.
A female patrol officer, Julia Rodriguez, was on duty as Weston's assistant. I simply walked by her to the closed office door and opened it.

"Hey! Stop! You can't go in there!" the patrol officer shouted, rising out of her chair to stop me. Susan Weston was behind her desk, just rising from her chair as I came in. I whirled on the young patrol officer, whose right hand was just about to draw her service weapon from its holster.

"Yes I can." I said, thrusting my badge in my left hand almost into her face. When she read the small print on top that said 'Commander', her eyes widened in shock.

"It's okay, Julia." said Weston. "This is the Police Commander."

"Good thing you didn't draw your weapon, Officer." I said, displaying my backup gun in my right hand, finger not on the trigger. "I'd've had to shoot you if you did." Leaving the Patrol Officer in deep shock, I closed the door and confronted Precinct Captain Weston.

"What is this, Commander?" said Weston. "Rodriguez is new, she doesn't know who you are. And why are you barreling past her like that, even if you are the Police Commander?"

"Just an inspection of Precinct 3, Captain." I said. "I was not stopped at the entrance to the Jail, nor at the Duty Desk. You have some things to work on, here. But that's not why I'm here. I want to know why you went over my head to the Chief and complained about Captain Ross. And worst of all, threatened to file a Union grievance. Do you realize how hard I'm going to snap your head back for that?"

"Uh, sir, I didn't go to the Chief... he called me." said Weston, her face showing pure shock, as well as fear.

"Come on, Captain," I said, "do I really look that stupid to you?"

"No sir!" she practically shouted. "I know full well who you are. I'm serious; the Chief called me this morning about the time you left, and asked what the row with Captain Ross was about. I told him... and I also told him you'd intervened and quelled it. And he asked if I was going to file a grievance with the Union, which was the first thought I'd even had of something like that."

"So who called the Chief?" I asked, my eyes boring into Weston.

"I don't know. Check the phone logs." she replied. "He called me, I swear to God."

I nodded, realizing she likely was telling the truth, though she could've used her personal cellphone to call the Chief first. "Okay, Weston, in any case I've had about enough of your antics. Whatever your beef with Lt. Perlman is, I suggest you drop it, and fast. Remember that I'm on her side at all times in any dispute with you, even if she's the one in the wrong."

I then said "I also suggest you get this Precinct cleaned up, and fast. I am on the verge of demoting and replacing you, so it would be a really, really good idea that I don't have any more problems with you at all. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir." Weston said, practically shaking with fear now. I approached her desk.

Speaking much more quietly, I said "Captain Weston, you have a chance to do a good job in your position and really make a mark for yourself. I actually think you're the right person for this position... if you just stop listening to the shit Brownlee is pouring into your ears and just do your current job in the here and now."

I continued: "I will also tell you that you will never be Captain of the Detectives while I am employed by this Police Force... and you won't want that job if I am not here. And whatever that slug Brownlee promised you ain't worth shit. *I* make things happen in this Police Force, not that paper pushing dirtbag. Think about it, Susan." I turned and left, closing the door and leaving a totally shocked Precinct Captain behind me.

As I'd exited, Officer Rodriguez had stood up. "Carry on, Officer." I said, then stopped and peered at her. "I perceive that you were in the military, Officer Rodriguez?"

"Yes sir." she said, surprised.

"What branch?"

"Army, sir." she replied. "2697th M.A.S.H. I was in the Nursing Corps."

"That's a big hospital unit, 500 beds at least? Not like the small T.V. show unit." I asked.

"Yes sir." she said.

"Why did you become a police officer instead of an EMT?"

"Uh..." she said, then gushed "I was told, sir, that I'd have much better opportunities in the Police Force than the EMS here, sir."

I nodded. "Okay. And thank you for your military service. Carry on." With that, I left Precinct 3. As I got back into my SUV, I got a surprise text...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Thank you for seeing us today, Mr. Burke." said SBI Agent Carter Fischer.

"No problem. What can I do for the State Bureau of Investigation?" asked Todd Burke. He was sitting behind his desk at BOW Enterprises, wearing a very well-tailored suit and silk tie. He looked like a young executive, and radiated both confidence and a sense of power which contrasted sharply with the young Agent Fischer and the inept Agent Greenwalt. And they could feel it.

"Have you heard of the death of Henry R. Wargrave?" asked Fischer.

"Yes, of course." said Todd.

"Have you heard of the details of the circumstances surrounding his death?"

"Only what I saw on television." said Todd. "He committed suicide. The FBI was after him, so it looks to me like he took the easy way out."

"Mr. Burke," said Agent Fischer, "the story is that Mr. Wargrave jumped from the window of his office and fell thirty floors to his death."

Todd did one of his uncle's favorite tricks: he said nothing, waiting for Fischer to finish or ask a question. The silence in the room became awkward.

"Is there a question in there somewhere, Agent Fischer?" Todd finally asked.

"You don't find that unusual?" asked Greenwalt, looking stupid and as if he didn't know why he was asking the question.

"I guess it's not normal for a billionaire to jump out of a tall window to his death." said Todd. "But he did. What am I supposed to find unusual about that?" Fischer was trying to watch Burke's face, but he was seeing nothing but boredom in Todd's features.

"Mr. Burke," said Fischer, "are you aware that Mr. Wargrave had bulletproof windows in his office, windows that were designed to withstand the impact of a small airplane or small missile?"

"No, I wasn't aware of that." said Todd.

"You don't find Mr. Wargrave jumping out that window unusual?"

"Okay, guys, let's stop wasting my time." said Burke. "Get to the point of your questions. What am I supposed to find unusual about this?"

Seeing their game wasn't producing good fruit, Fischer said "Mr. Burke, the windows were sealed shut, they could not be opened from the inside nor the outside. The window Mr. Wargrave jumped through was shattered... but as I just told you, those windows are made to withstand pretty big impacts. Now how did Mr. Wargrave shatter that window?"

"I have no idea." said Todd Burke. "Now gentlemen, if you'll excuse me..."

"We're not finished yet." said Fischer, trying to take control. Todd stood up anyway.

"Yes, you are finished if you're going to continue wasting my time with these useless questions."

"Is your Chief Research Officer, Barry Oliver here?"

"I don't know." replied Burke. "He doesn't have to clock in with me."

"Will you make him available to us for questioning?"

"No, I won't." said Burke. "I don't know what the bullshit point of this is, but you've tired me of it. Now I'm not answering any further questions from you without a lawyer present. You may not speak to any of my employees or partners without a Court-issued warrant and without them also being represented by legal counsel."

Todd pressed a button and two security men appeared, ready to cause trouble if necessary. "Butch, escort these SBI Agents off the property, and no SBI agents except my uncle and his police partner are to come on to the property again without Court-issued warrants. Shoot to kill if necessary."

"Mr. Burke," said Fischer. "What are you trying to hide?"

"What are you trying to hide?" retorted Todd. "Butch, get 'em out of here."

They didn't even make it off the property before Todd was texting his uncle...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

My lovely and very competent assistant Helena French spoke on the intercom at 4:15pm. "Commander, an Officer Julia Rodriguez is here to see you, without appointment."

"That's fine." I said. "Send her in." Officer Rodriguez came inside. Cindy was sitting on the sofa.

"Sir, I came by to apologize." Julia said. "I did not realize who you were, and I was overly aggressive."

"No need to apologize, Officer Rodriguez." I said. "Please, sit down." Julia sat down, nervously looking at me.

"Officer, what is said in here will stay in here, so please speak freely and frankly to me." I said. "What's going on in Precinct 3?"

"There's no security there, sir." she said. "The Duty Desk doesn't even watch who's coming through, they don't keep good logs and don't notify Headquarters when cases need to be sent along. I've done half of that myself."

"So that's why you're gun-happy?" I asked.

"Sir, I really am the last and only line of defense to Captain Weston." Julia said. "If someone was seriously trying to come in and kill her, they would get as far as you did today."

"Thank you for telling us that." I said. "Just one more thing: can you be more specific about the EMS problems that caused you to choose the Police Force over them? Not that I'm complaining, of course."

"I just know that my friend Maria, who was in my M.A.S.H. unit and came here a month before me, told me that I should apply for the Police Force, because the EMS people got treated like shit, excuse my language, and if I got fired from there, I couldn't apply for the Police later and work for them. So I applied for the Police, and Maria is working for the Public Health Department."

I pressed a buzzer, and Helena appeared at the door. "Helena, I need to write a commendation for Officer Rodriguez. During an inspection of 3d Precinct, I found her to be efficient and on guard, surpassing her normal duties. Send me a template for that, please, and I'll fill in the details."

"Yes sir." said Helena, smiling. Everyone was aware I'd done that to praise Rodriguez publicly.

"As Captain Ross will tell you, Ms. Rodriguez," I said, "I'll put you in for a Commendation Medal, the Council will reduce it to an Achievement Medal, but expect to be present on the August 1st Ceremonies Day. And by the way, I wasn't going to shoot you."

"What if I had tried to shoot you, sir?" asked Julia.

Cindy piped in: "Crowbars hurt, Officer Rodriguez. Nuff said."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"That's it!" Cindy said as we sat in the office just minutes after Julia had left. "I just realized what is wrong about the Myers burglary!"

"And that is?" I asked.

"The garage door, for one thing." Cindy said.

"Yes." I said. "And?" I looked at her encouragingly as she thought about it. The light was coming on behind her ice blue eyes.

"Yesssss..." she said, more to herself than me. "The safe. The safe." I just smiled. My cousin was on point. Learning that she was a Michaux had her confidence as well as her mental acuity blooming.

"Anything else?" I asked.

Cindy thought again, then said "Ohhh... the items that were stolen."

Oh yeah, she was all over it like white on rice. "Just one more thing, and you're there." I said.

"Three out of four is good in baseball." said Cindy. "Give me a hint?"

"Sure." I said. "Why was the alarm manually defeated, and then reset?" Cindy gaped at me, then began thinking about it...

Part 9 - Allegations

"Sarah Carter was promoted in May." said Cindy in the late afternoon. "She's now more of an overseer of other parole officers, including Ryan Frost. Here's her photograph." Sarah was a black woman in her thirties, not bad looking, her body a bit voluptuous. Her ass was nice and big and round, and I was thinking I'd love to massage and squeeze those asscheeks while fucking her brains out.

Cindy brought me back to the present, saying "Frost also had two allegations of trying to force female parolees into performing oral sex upon him. One complaint was withdrawn, but the girl was found to have violated parole and sent back to State Women's Prison, where she remains now. The other complaint was allowed to languish when the girl making the claim was found dead in the Tenderloin District of a drug overdose, which was ruled 'accidental' by the Coroner at the time."

"And understandably so. Only the current knowledge of the accusation makes it suspicious now." I said. "What about other female parolees under Frost?"

"Myron says they're not keeping particularly good records down there." Cindy replied. "Closed case files get archived, and that's as paper files. Not too many computer records, and the ones that aredigital are recent."

"And we're not exactly as small as Apple Grove's paper files collection in their Courthouse basement." I said.

"All is not lost, however." said Cindy. "There's one woman, a Diane Butterhof, a.k.a. 'Diane Buttercup'. She was a prostitute and was arrested for being a courier of drugs. She got off parole three weeks ago, but only after her parole was extended due to bad reports ...from..." She paused to let me fill in the blank.

"Ryan Frost." I said, playing the game.

"Give the man a crowbar." Cindy replied. "She also had been under Carter before Carter was promoted. We have an address on her, and perhaps you should be along for the interview."

"No doubt." I said.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The apartment was on the lower west side, south of Downtown but not quite in the bad areas of Town. Cindy and I went in a big Police "black" SUV, an unmarked vehicle that had audio and video recording equipment.

Knocking on the door, it was answered by a very beautiful blonde woman. She was now in her thirties and had long, cascading blonde hair. Her lips were full, a bit too full if you ask me, but her eyes were warm and sensuous. She was taller than Cindy and still had a great body.

Cindy said "Diane, we're with the TCPD. Can we talk to you for a few minutes? You're not in trouble; we just need some information." Diane looked at us nervously and invited us in. Once inside, I put my finger to my lips in a 'hush' sign, and got out my bug detector. I found a bug on a living room lamp of the small apartment, one in the light fixture above the table in the kitchen/dining area, and one in her bedroom.

Again, putting my fingers over my mouth in a hush sign, I wrote on my notebook "Please come to our car." Diane did. She was in the backseat with me as Cindy sat in the driver's seat. Once in the car, I spoke.

"Diane, I am Commander Troy, and as you can see, your home has been bugged."

"I know who you are. You're the Iron Crowbar." said Diane. "But why is my house bugged, and who bugged it?"

"I hope to find those things out." I said. "Captain Ross and I are investigating Ryan Frost, who was your parole officer."

Diane's face fell. 'I... I can't talk about him..."

I said "Diane, I'm sure he and maybe Sarah Carter threatened you. But I can protect you. Tell us what you can, testify against them, and I'll help you disappear and find a new life elsewhere. He's probably doing the same thing to other women that he did to you, so help those other women, even if your own parole is over."

Diane gave this story, which I have cleaned up as it was interspersed with a good bit of tears and emotion:

"Sarah Carter was my first parole officer." Diane said. "I went to every appointment every two weeks, took all my drug tests and stayed clean, did everything she said do. A few months ago she told me that she was being promoted, and I'd be assigned to one of her parole officers, Ryan Frost."

"He was a really disgusting guy." she continued. "At my first appointment with him, he stood in front of me and opened his pants and took out his cock. He told me to suck it. I said no fucking way, and he said he's send me back to prison if I didn't. I got up to leave, and I was going to go to the Police, but at that moment Sarah Carter came in and said I'd better do what he said, or she would say I violated my parole and send me back to prison. So I had to suck that little bastard's prick with her watching."

"Sarah told me that if I ever told the police or anyone, I'd go back to prison and I'd be murdered inside. I believed that; two women I knew inside that had their paroles revoked were gang-raped and then murdered by the guards, and the going rumors were that they'd pissed off someone on the outside."

Diane continued: "They came to my apartment twice, about midnight. The first time, they went through all of my stuff, looking for drugs, and of course there weren't any... but Sarah had a bag of weed and said she'd plant this and have the cops find it if I didn't do what she said. She stripped naked and got on my bed and told me to eat her pussy. I didn't have any choice, but I'm okay with muffdiving so I went down on her. It was while I was doing that, that that bastard Frost got behind me and tried to put his cock in me. I jumped up and said no fucking way he was going to fuck me, and Sarah said that if I didn't let him, I'd be found with drugs, my parole violated, and I'd be in shit creek in the big house again. So I had to let that bastard rape me from behind while I ate out Sarah."

They left me alone for a couple of months, but about six weeks ago they came into my home again. My parole was supposed to be over, but they'd extended it a month, telling me it was a warning and a sign of what they could do. They said they were going to fuck me this one last time, and if I went along, they'd let my parole end and I'd be free... but if I ever said a word, I'd be murdered."

"Did Frost come inside you?" Cindy asked, "Or did he use a condom?"

"He didn't use a rubber," said Diane, "but he didn't come. He was getting close, he only lasted a couple of minutes, and Sarah told him not to blow inside me. So he got on her and they 'fucked to pop'. That was the first time, and that ended the night. The second time, Frost tossed my salad while I ate Sarah. I had to keep eating Sarah while that little shit tongued my ass. Then he raped me again, in my pussy, and he put his finger in my ass. He shot his load in Sarah's mouth that time."

"All right, let's go upstairs and you pack a bag of clothes and other items you want to take. Don't say anything that the bugs might pick up. We're going someplace safer, and after you testify, the FBI will hide you somewhere. Any place you'd like to go?"

"California. Los Angeles." said Diane.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was nearly midnight, and Mary Mahoney came up to the punk club entrance in the Tenderloin District, dressed in her normal 'punk' clothing with some embellishments.

"Private party. You're not on the list." said the doorman, a young black man in a nice suit, but plenty fit and ready for a fight.

"Here's my invitation." said Mary, holding up her Police I.D. badge. She was certified as a Detective and qualified with a gun.

"Where's your warrant?" the doorman said.

"Cooperate with them, Jerome." said the man coming up to them. It was T-Mac, lieutenant of the rapper T-Square. "They're keeping things cool and on the down-low instead of making a scene. We'll work with the I.C. here." Behind T-Mac was a large man in a trenchcoat, Tilley hat, and carrying the ubiquitous red crowbar.

"Yes sir." said the doorman dispassionately. He nodded at Mary. She went inside and to a table where a woman with dyed purple-red hair, cut in a mohawk, was sitting. The woman was wearing a leather vest that did not do much to hide her breasts, as nip-slips were happening. The woman was smoking a cigarette and downing a whiskey.
"Hi Lita." said Mary, sitting down next to her.

"Do I know you?" said Lita.

"You do now." said Mary, flashing her badge.

"Aw, c'mon, my parole's over in two weeks. Can't you leave a girl alone?"

"That's why I'm here like this." said Mary. "We just want to talk to you, and make this as quiet and easy for you as we can. Come on out with me, it'll look like we're going home to have sex. You talk to my boss, we leave you alone and make sure you get to the end of your parole."

"And if I don't?"

"Ah, then it gets ugly." said Mary. "The Iron Crowbar himself will get interested, and he'll personally drag you out of here by your hair in front of all these people. And your parole? Forget about that..."

"All right." said Lita. They got up and left, going to the parking lot. Lita got in the passenger seat of the black SUV while Mary drove. They drove off, no one the wiser... and no one knowing that both holders of Crowbars were in the backseat, introducing themselves professionally (our profession) to Lita.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I found bugs in lamps in every room of Lita's small apartment, which she shared with a fellow punk bitch. So we went outside and back to the SUV.

"What the fuck is going on?" Lita asked, sitting in the shotgun seat next to Mary in the driver's seat. We'd parked at Ronald Reagan Park, and were watching to make sure we had not been followed.

"Lita, is Ryan Frost your parole officer?" I asked.

"Yes." said Lita.

"Has he forced you to have sex with him?"

"Uhhh..." Lita said. "I can't talk about that. I'll go back to jail, and I'll be murdered there."

"No, you won't." I said. "In fact, I'll make damn sure you get released from parole, and into witness protection if you want it. Or I'll talk to T-Mac and T-Square, and they'll protect you from the bastard. So please, tell us the truth: did Frost force you into sex?"

"He makes me give him head at every meeting." Lita said. She went on to explain that Frost forced her to swallow his semen, then she had to drink mouthwash and swallow that to remove all traces.

"When's your next meeting?" I asked.

"Tomorrow morning." she replied.

"Lita," I asked, "would you be willing to help us put that bastard in prison?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

They were sitting on the back deck of the home, watching the sun set as the woman brought them bottles of ice-cold beer.

"Here you go." said Melina. "How are you doing, Curly?" She gave the other bottle to her husband, Daniel Allgood..

"Very well, Melina, thank you. And you?" said Curly Goodwin, chief of TCPD Internal Affairs.

"Never better." said Melina. "I'll leave you two to talk. Call me if you need anything, hun."

"Thanks babe." said Daniel. Melina left the back deck of their home, going inside to look after their child.

"Nice view." said Goodwin, seeing the University to his left, the football stadium's north side dominating that view, the Town to his front, the lights of the streets twinkling, and the Fire Department Range lights and Water Works to his right. The glow of the sky reflected off the glassy surface of the River.

"Thanks." said Daniel. "So what's up?"

"This is just an off-the-record visit." said Curly. "You've got a problem brewing in your top leadership."

"Yeah, I know." said Daniel. "The Chief and Commander are at odds."

"It may be a lot worse than that." said Goodwin. "You know, because we've discussed it before, that Troy has some kind of device that disables our listening devices. We tried to upgrade, and wouldn't you know it, the guy has an upgraded device the very next morning. It's like he can read our minds, so we've given up trying to outwit him."

Daniel chuckled. "And probably wise of you to do so. You know... I remember when the Chief brought him in, as I.T. Supervisor and a Detective, and he had the most beautiful wife on the planet. The only mistake I think he's ever made is letting her go, but I'm not complaining: she's mine now. Anyway, you know how you and I talked about Malone being up to something, and there was someone behind him but we couldn't tell who it was?"

"Yeah, I remember." Curly replied.

"Well, we couldn't figure out that someone, but Don sure as hell is on his track. Don has pretty much taken over the Police Department and its Detectives, and he is on a mission to take the Shadow Man down. He is damn good at solving crimes, too, so be sure to give him every inch of space and degree of latitude he needs to get the job done."

"Yeah, I heard Griswold say that, too. Too bad he's retired." said Curly. "And that leads to the problem now. We tried to listen in on Troy and Ross today. Troy had the device on... but he turned it off and we got this snippet. Listen to it."

Daniel listened to the recording through the earpieces from what looked like a mini iPod. "Oh, shit." he said. He listened again. When he was done, his face was somber.

"They're both thinking of leaving?" Daniel said. "Oh my God, that is... geez, I told Bennett to back off." After a reflective pause, Daniel said "Any idea why the Chief hates Ross so much?"

"Oh yes." said Curly. "If Troy is in there with his device, we can't hear shit, but otherwise we're getting everything. Here, listen to file #2 in there."

Daniel listened, then said "Okay, I see. Brownlee is in there talking trash about Ross every chance he gets. Calling her a 'dyke bitch'. And Bennett is agreeing, saying he hates faggots and lezbos too. And Ross is a lesbian..."

"Yes sir." said Curly. "Well, that's the gist of it. I wanted to let you know before something bad happens. I do happen to think Bennett is a good Police Chief, but he's making a huge mistake and agitating the Iron Crowbar."

"Yeah," said Daniel. "Thanks for letting me know, Curly."

"Thanks for the beer." said Curly. "I need to get on home." Daniel escorted him to the door, then went to the sofa where Melina was sitting, her legs curled under her, reading a magazine.

"Everything okay, honey?" she asked, still reading the magazine.

"No" Daniel said. He told her what was going on. "So... " he concluded, "what do I do now?"

"What you should always do... trust the Iron Crowbar." Melina replied matter-of-factly. "He'll fix your problem for you... he fixes everything."

"I hope so." Daniel said. "Priya Ajmani has been doing those newscasts about Oldeeds' murder. How's he going to fix that?"

"Don't worry about that." Melina said, smiling mysteriously. "The Iron Crowbar has power behind him that I'm not sure even he knows how to harness. But it will be all right. It always is. It will be all right."

Daniel said nothing as he thought about it. He remembered Vito Corleone's advice, and knew that keeping both Crowbars near him was the correct thing to do. He also realized his wife was right: whether on purpose or not, the Iron Crowbar just seemed to 'fix' everything.

He put his arm around his wife and kissed her cheek. "I love you, Melina. More than anything."

"Awww," Melina said, throwing the magazine across the room and turning to her husband. "I love you, too." They kissed. "Let's go to bed. I want to make love with you, darling" she said...

To be continued.

So, dear readers, the clues are there. What is going on? Who has committed what crimes? How will the Iron Crowbar(s) take down the wily perps? Tune in next chapter, same Crowbar time, same Crowbar channel...

case   parole   the   officer  

Aug 4, 2018 in blowjob

Tags

Search