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Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 03:13 AM

I arrived at the Donut Hole the next morning at 7:55 and found that Chris was already occupying one of the booths and was nursing a cup of coffee. I took my seat and the waitress handed me a menu and asked if I wanted coffee, which I did.

I glanced over the menu and asked, "Are you hungry?"
Chris just grunted and said, "I guess a man's gotta eat."
The waitress returned with my coffee and asked if we were ready to order.
"Go ahead and start, Chris," I offered.
"You buying?" he asked.
"Sure."
"Oh. In that case, I'll order big. I'll take the three-egg everything omelet, hash browns, short stack of pancakes, side of bacon, slice of ham and a tall glass of O.J."
"And for you, hon?" the waitress asked.
"I'll just go with a Belgian Waffle and side of bacon."
"Should be about fifteen minutes," she said as she took our menus and disappeared.
"Well," Chris started, "you asked me here. What was it you wanted to talk to me about? Anything to do with the standoff last week?"
"Uh, no," I said. "Actually, it is more of a personal matter."
Chris sat up straight. "Personal matter?" he asked, incredulously.
"Yeah," I went on. "I'm in need of someone who has some hardcore computer knowledge and I was told to ask you."
"Why me?"
"Well, I was told that you have a significant other who is extremely knowledgeable around computers and software and stuff and I was looking for some help."
Chris let out a deep breath. "So, basically you want me to talk to my girlfriend and convince her to help you with.....whatever the hell it is you need help with. Am I right?"
"Yeah, something like that."
"So, you are basically asking me for a favor. Am I right?"
I wasn't sure why he was getting so defensive. "Yeah, right. I'm asking for your help, too."
"And this has nothing to do with the sheriff's department?"
"No, nothing at all. I swear."
"Jesus," he said, folding his arms. "You've got some balls on you, captain. I will say that."
Now I was the one getting defensive. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I mean you! Basically setting up a breakfast meeting on company time so you can ask me for a personal favor!"
"Well, I thought it would give us a chance to visit a little bit, too. Get to know one another a little more since we're going to be working together in a new capacity."
"Oh, bullshit," he said, disgusted. "Whatever the hell this favor is, you didn't want to ask me back at the station for a reason. Why the hell should I do you any favors at all? Huh? Why?"
"Well," I thought carefully, "why not? What's the harm in asking?"
"Permission to speak freely?" he asked.
"Absolutely," I said, narrowing my eyes.
"I'll tell you what the harm in asking is. I've got a real problem doing any favors whatsoever for Sheriff Bud Roberts' fair-haired boy. I've got a real problem doing one goddamned thing for Bud Roberts' little bitch, that's what!"
"Now hold on a second. I -,"
"No, you hold on," Chris interrupted. "This whole thing tells me out loud that you obviously have absolutely ZERO comprehension for the dynamic that exists in the department now because of you. Do you really think anybody respects you? Do you really think anybody sees you as a leader? You come into this department, you automatically get put on the day shift when everybody else has to put in YEARS of overnight and swing shift work, but you get the best schedule right off the bat! You work, what? Two years? And suddenly you get promoted to the Captain and Chief Deputy position? And you're also the commander of the SOG team? Jesus! I mean, come on! Whatever Pat Quinn wants, Pat Quinn gets! You're friggin' untouchable!"
"You think I just got handed this position? I had ten years on the security officer department of this town before I even left for the sheriff's department. I have an Associate's Degree in Criminal Justice and a Bachelor's Degree in psychology and public administration. It's not like I'm not qualified for the position I've got. I have dedicated a lot of my life -- "
"Oh, spare me, Quinn. Hell, I've got a double bachelor's degree in criminology and business administration, too. I've also got damned near as much time as you in law enforcement altogether, too. But I had to put my fucking time in for six years on the night shift, another five years on the swing shift all before I ever had a shot at getting on the day shift. But you? Oh, hell no! We'll just put Pat on a day car right off the bat. Never mind looking at promoting him to Sergeant or Lieutenant first. Let's just make him Captain right off the frigging bat," he said in his most sarcastic tone. "Like I said - whatever Pat wants, Pat gets. You've gotten opportunities handed to you here that the rest of us have had to wait YEARS to come by. Look at you! No longer a uniformed officer, you're part of the suit-and-tie crowd now. You don't even look like one of us anymore. And you want ME to do YOU a favor? Gimme a fucking break!"
I didn't know what to say. I needed to excuse myself. "I'm gonna go take a piss. We'll finish this conversation when I get back." I got up and headed to the men's room.
I didn't need to piss but I almost thought I was going to shit myself as angry as I was. I splashed some cold water on my face and looked myself in the mirror. I thought of all the things that Chris had just said to me, all of the hate and anger he had been feeling towards me and kept bottled inside. From the sound of it, a lot of the other deputies obviously felt the same way.
But as I looked myself in the mirror, only one thought entered my mind -- Chris was one hundred percent right. Only he didn't know why. But the truth was that my entire career at the Sheriff's department was one big sham. It was staged. I was a patsy, a setup man, a fall guy. I got onto the sheriff's department because Bud was fucking my wife. I got placed on the day shift so Bud could make it easier to fuck my wife. I got promoted to Captain so I was no longer part of the security officer union Bud could make it easier to get rid of me so he could keep fucking and eventually marry my wife. And Bud had fucked ME by pulling me in so close to his sphere of influence that the rank and file of the department would turn against me. And that prophecy had now proven to be true.
I came out of the men's room and resumed my seat across the table from Chris Hayes. As I sat there, I knew that I would have to tell him the truth or he would never help me. The day had come when I could no longer keep it a secret that my wife and my boss had made me a cuckold in my own home and my place of work. If I was going to get my self-respect back, it had to start now. And it had to start with me trusting Chris Hayes and humbling myself in front of him.
"You're right," I finally said.
"Excuse me?" Chris looked amused.
"I said you're right. All of it. Everything you said is absolutely correct."
"I don't follow. Are you trying to fuck with me or something?" Hayes had a smug look on his face.
"No, Chris. I'm not. I sincerely mean it. And that's why I need your help." It was time for the confession. I took a deep breath. "Bud Roberts has been fucking my wife for over two years. That's why I got hired at the sheriff's department in the first place. Apparently, a quid-pro-quo between Bud and my wife. We had always wanted to move to the country and we could never do that if I stayed on the Red River Falls security officer Department. Somehow, Bud apparently found that out and offered to put me on the sheriff's department if my whore of a wife would put out for him," I explained as I poured myself more coffee. "I have since figured out that the reason Bud put me on the day shift was to make it easier for him to sneak out to my house or to a motel to meet up with my wife during the day so neither I nor Bud's wife would consider it unusual since they were always around at home during the night and the weekend."
Chris let out a slow breath as I continued to reveal my cards.
"So," I continued, "Bud set it up for me to get promoted to Chief Deputy to make it easier to set me up for my eventual fall from grace. I have a lot more responsibilities now and it will be a lot more believable for people when I go from being a hero to a goat whenever he decides to drop the hammer. Plus, as Captain, I'm no longer part of the security officer union so I have no protection there, either."
"What do you think he has planned?" Chris asked, much calmer now.
"I really don't know. Probably something that involves a lot of jail time for me once it all gets out in the open."

"Christ," he said, incredulous. "How did you find out about it all?"
"The hard way."

"What, you walked in on them or something?"
"I might as well have," I said, taking a sip of coffee. "I came home from the conference in Minneapolis early and caught them out at my place. They were both dressed in their underwear, standing in my kitchen, drinking coffee just as candy-ass-as-you-please. A close friend tipped me off that something was going on, although I had no idea who until I found them together."
"Really? No idea at all?"
"Well, I guess I figured it out on the way home. Bud told me he had some emergency situation to deal with from the county supervisors or something and had to leave the conference early. Couple that with the fact that he was a couple of days late GETTING to the conference. It all came together when I tried to call him and tell him I was going home. I couldn't reach him on his cell so I called his house. Margolene, his wife, had absolutely no idea that Bud had left Minneapolis or was on his way back to Red River Falls. What man wouldn't call his wife to let her know he was coming home?"
"Did you tell her?"
"No, I didn't. I didn't have the heart to tell her. Plus, I was too stunned at the realization because it all hit me when I was on the phone with her. Looking back now, I wish I had told her."
We sat there in silence for several minutes.
"Okay, okay," Chris said. "Look, I'm sorry about before. I had no idea. I mean, I don't want you to think that the rest of us think you're incompetent. I mean, you did a helluva job with that little girl from the kidnapping and the job with the hostage last week was awesome. I guess I just wanted you to understand how it looks from the regular troops, ya know?"
"Believe me, I get it," I said. "I guess I was fooling myself thinking that I had gotten to where I was because of my own awesomeness only to have the realization come crashing down on me that I'm nothing but a puppet on some fucking strings with Bud Roberts as Gepetto."
Our food finally showed up and we waited until the waitress had dropped off our order before continuing our conversation.
"Look, Pat," Chris said, "is it alright if I call you Pat?" I nodded. "I'm willing to talk to Tonya about helping you. But first, I need an assurance from you."
"Go ahead."
"I need an assurance from you that, one; you won't go after my girlfriend for anything once you meet her. And two, I need to know that you've got my back if I ever need it, no questions asked. In exchange for those two things, I'll make sure that you have all the support you need from the rest of the deputies and Sergeants. You'll have to make your own amends with the Lieutenants."
I leaned closer across the table. "Chris, if this whole thing works out like I hope it does, you have my word that I will find some way to make it up to you. I never fail to help someone who needs it and I never fail to remember those who help me, either."
Chris nodded. "Well okay, then. As soon as I finish my free breakfast and you're done eating we'll go take a ride. Sound good?"
"Sounds great. All I'm asking for is a chance."
We finished eating about 20 minutes later. I paid the bill and followed Chris outside to where our respective cruisers were parked.
"Before we go," Chris said, "there's something we need to do. Open your trunk."
I did as Chris said and popped the trunk to my Ford sedan. Chris reached into the trunk and moved my tactical gear bags out of the way. He then proceeded to lift up the spare tire from its housing and grabbed and removed a small object. I had no idea it was in there and didn't even know what it was. It was about the size of an egg and was hard-wired into the car itself.
"What the hell is that?" I asked, stunned.
"GPS locator. Have you ever noticed that Bud always seems to know whenever you're around or wherever you have been?" he asked.
"I'll be damned," I whispered. So Bud was keeping track of his deputies' whereabouts at all times. "I wonder why he didn't know I was driving back from Minneapolis that night then."
"Probably 'cuz he was too busy fucking your wife," Chris answered. I'm not sure if it was the bluntness of his answer or the realization of how right he was that shocked me more. "Sorry," he continued. "Not trying to be a prick. Anyway, jump in my cruiser. It will look less suspicious to Bud if he sees my car where we're going as opposed to both of us."
I jumped in his car and we drove for about two miles until we were on the north end of downtown Red River Falls. The area was somewhat blighted, with several pawn shops and a couple of other run down stores. There were also about a half dozen empty store fronts as well as a dingy little eatery that looked like the kind of place you'd go to order a bad case of diarrhea. There was also an adult bookstore on the corner. Even at this early hour there were still people coming and going sporadically from the place, which was open 24 hours a day like 7-Eleven.
Next to the adult bookstore was a large old store that years ago had been a drug store. The store itself was twice as wide as any of the other stores on the block. I followed Chris in the front door and our presence was announced by a simple brass bell that hung above the main entrance. The first thing that struck me was the elaborate security measures in place - cameras, motion-detectors and extremely heavy bars across the front windows.
One side of the store was taken up completely by displays of laptop and desk top computers, some of them in various stages of repair or assembly; it was hard to tell which. Others were for sale outright behind locked glass displays. The other half of the store was made up of rows and rows of vinyl LP records, some of them still in the original clear cellophane wrapping. There were also rows and stacks of used CDs, DVDs, old tape cassettes, VHS and beta movies and even a good variety of old eight-track tapes. Posters of various bands, celebrities, movies and other pop culture were plastered all over the walls. Among them were posters of Jimmy Hendrix, the Grateful Dead and Pink Floyd, which all seemed arbitrary for this particular place.
I took a deep breath in through my nostrils and immediately picked up the scene of freshly smoked marijuana. I couldn't tell if the smell was emanating from one of the patrons or if someone had been toking up inside the building.
Chris observed me sniffing and said, "Yes it is weed and remember that you made a promise."
"It's cool," I said, raising both hands.
"Is Tonya around?" Chris asked one of the employees of the record store. The young lady was dressed head-to-toe in black Chuck Taylor All-Stars, black skin tight pants and a black Pink Floyd "Dark Side of the Moon" t-shirt.
"Yeah, she's in back," the girl said, chomping on a huge wad of gum.
I followed Chris to the back of the store through a set of heavy black curtains where there was a very nicely appointed workshop that contained what I imagined was probably every single type of tool that you could need to work on just about any and every type of computer.
"Hey, there, you sexy, gorgeous fucking stud! What the hell are you doing here?" The statement came from a tall, statuesque woman who was about Chris' height, thin build with a very pale complexion. She had pin-straight and jet black shoulder length hair. She wore black lipstick and eye shadow, had black fingernails and was, like the other employees, dressed head-to-toe in black with a t-shirt that read across the chest "I Fuck on the First Date". She was heavily tattooed on both arms and her neck and probably numerous other places on her body. I imagined that she probably had more ink than actual skin showing. I'm also pretty sure there wasn't any flap of skin that didn't contain a piercing, save for her eye lids.
"I came by to see you, ya sexy bitch," Chris replied. They immediately embraced and began making out like a couple of horny teenagers. Even though I am not a huge fan of Goth chicks, I did have to hand it to her that she was a natural beauty and had an absolutely killer body and a terrific rack. Not nearly as big or round as Shannon's, but she definitely put Clarissa to shame.
"Actually," Chris went on as he came up for air, "I'm sort of here on business."
"Oh, my God! Please tell me you're kidding," she said as she looked at me. I could tell she clearly saw the badge on my belt.

"No, I'm not kidding but you can relax. It's not THAT kind of business."
"Oh, thank God. You scared the shit out of me for half a second there. So, who's your friend?" she asked, nodding towards me.
"This is one of my bosses. I'd like you to meet Chief Deputy, Captain Pat Quinn. Pat, this is Tonya."
"Geez, you're a fuckin' hottie," Tonya said, extending her hand.
"Thanks. I don't often get compliments like that," I said, smiling.
"Pat has, how shall I say, a sensitive matter he'd like to discuss with you."
"Okay. No problemo. Let's head out to my office."
We followed Tonya out the back of the store and into an addition to the back of the store that was a large three-stall garage. Tonya headed for a refrigerator and opened the freezer, revealing at least two full-size, tightly wrapped bricks of marijuana. She reached in and pulled out a freshly rolled joint and proceeded to light up. She opened the nearest overhead door about 18 inches, letting in some of the cold wintery air but not enough to make it unbearable. It was all I could do to keep my eyes from popping out of my head at the scene in front of me.
"Remember," Chris said, "you promised." I made the imaginary zipper motion across my lips and just smiled at Tonya.
"So, what's up, Pat?"
I started from the very beginning and told her everything. I figured that giving her the whole story would give her a better idea of what I needed in order to finally catch Clarissa and Bud and get them right where I wanted them. More important than just getting information, I needed it to be information I could really use to nail them both, something that would give me the leverage to end both their affair and possibly even Bud's career.
"Wow, Pat," she said when I finished. "That totally sucks. I can't believe your own wife and boss would do such a shitty thing. And here I thought Bud was just screwing over Chris all these years because of me. Guess he's not the only one."
"So, what do you think you can do to help me?" I asked.
"How much do they talk to each other? Is it mostly on the phone, a lot of texts, or emails?"
"Well, I'm really not sure. From what my son Nick has told me, it sounds like she's on the computer a lot while I'm gone. And I know that Bud spends a massive amount of time on his computer at work, at least when he's actually AT work."
"Okay," she said. "It sounds like the first thing we need to do is install a key logger on your computer."
"What the hell is a key logger?"
"A key logger is a program that will actually record the sequence of keys that were pressed in the right order. You can use it to figure out passwords to her email, Facebook, Twitter or any other kind of shit you want to get into. Does she have a smart phone?"

Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 03:14 AM

"Yes, she does."

"What kind? An iPhone or an Android phone?" she asked while taking a drag on the reefer.
"Android. I just got her a new Samsung a few months ago."
"Perfect. I can help you with that so you can read all of her text messages. I can even install a hidden app that will forward all of them to your own email account."
"What about the emails?" I asked.
"Those you can just forward to your own account. Just don't forget to delete them out of the 'sent' file when you're done. Otherwise, she'll know if anything got forwarded and who it went to."
"Pssh," I said. "She's so damned arrogant right now, along with Bud, that I doubt she'd even bother checking. They're both in a complete fog and think they've got me and the rest of the world by the balls."
"Question," Tonya said, taking another drag on her joint, "do you know where Bud is emailing and texting your wife from?"
"What do you mean? Like, from which computer or location?"
"Both, actually," she said, exhaling. "Do you know if he is emailing and texting her from work?"
"Oh, I see where you're going with this. If he's smart, he's probably emailing her from home and texting from his personal phone. That's where you'd expect. If he was using a work computer or phone to carry on inappropriate correspondence, then there could be hell to pay."
"Exactly," she said. "Every city organization has strict rules about internet and official email and phone usage. So understanding that, are you willing to entertain something that might be slightly outside the boundaries of the law?"
I couldn't help but smile. "I guess that depends on what it is," I replied, coyly.
"How about if I could guarantee that you'd never get caught at it?" Okay, now she DEFINITELY had my attention.
"Is she that good?" I asked Chris.
"Dude, she went to friggin' MIT for God's sake. Computer engineering. So, yes, she is that good."
"Actually," Tonya corrected, "I dropped out after my third year. I guess I got bored with college. But anyway, are you interested?"
"Go on," I invited.
"How would you like it if I could make every single email or text message that Bud ever sent your wife look as though it was sent from his work computer, work email account or his official work cell phone?"
"What? How the hell is that possible?"
"Easy. At least for me, anyway. Do you have any emails and texts that Bud has sent you?"
"Yeah, sure. He sends out general emails and stuff all the time."
"If you want, I can digitally imprint every one of those emails with the IP address of Bud's computer, as well as his actual email address. Furthermore, I can re-route those emails through the same official city servers and routers to make it look like it was originally sent that way. Same dates, times, IP addresses, protocols, you name it. It's a slightly different process with the phone and texts, but generally the same principle. No one will be able to tell the difference."
I let out a long whistle. "And you can really do that? You can make it really appear as though those emails and texts were sent by Bud from his work computer phone?"
"Bet your ass I can. I can help you make Bud feel like he got digitally gang bangd in the ass at San Quentin."
It didn't take me long to decide. "Let's do it."
"Consider it done, sugar." And with that, Tonya proceeded to stamp out the rest of her joint and throw the remainder in the small pellet stove. Then she proceeded to absolutely mouth bang Chris Hayes with the raunchiest kisses I'd ever seen. I couldn't help it as I started to sport a boner.
"Fuck, you look so hot in your uniform. I can't wait for you to use those cuffs on me tonight!" They continued to grope and kiss each other and I couldn't help but watch and be mesmerized. Tonya paused as she came up for air and said, "Um, will you excuse us for a while, Patrick? I'm about to unzip Christopher's pants and suck his cock until he blows his massive load down my throat."
I was too stunned to move until Chris said, "Hey, Pat. I really need you to leave for a while. Pat?"
"Huh? Oh, right. Yeah." I sheepishly turned and headed back to the front of the building and bided some time looking through some of the old vinyl records. To her credit, Tonya had managed to accumulate an extensive inventory of good music from every genre. All of the albums and records appeared to be in very good quality condition.
I was interrupted when one of the employees, another chubby Goth female, approached me. "Are you a cop?"
"Uh, actually I'm a Deputy Sheriff with the Mason County Sheriff's Department."
"Are we in trouble or something?" she asked, chomping her gum.
"Uh, no. Not that I'm aware of."
"Is Tonya in trouble or something?"
"No, Tonya's not in trouble, either."
"Good, 'Cuz my parole officer is gonna be pissed if I lose another job."
I couldn't help but chuckle as she turned and walked away to file some more records and CDs. Soon after, Chris Hayes came back from his rendezvous with Tonya looking flustered and out of breath. His hair was disheveled, as well.
"Wow," I said as we left the store. "Was it good for you, too?" I chuckled.
"Pat, let me as you a question; Have you ever had a blow job from a woman that was so fucking amazing that you blew a nut so goddamned hard that your testicles actually ached for an hour or two afterwards?"
I was pleasantly shocked. "Um, no, I can't say that I have, sadly."
"Yeah," he said as he put on his Stetson hat, "it was that fucking good. Here, Tonya wrote down some instructions for you to follow the next time you're out at your place. And she also gave you these." He handed me a regular sized USB thumb drive as well as another small external drive with a phone USB adapter on it. "The regular thumb drive is for your home computer. It has the key logger on it. The other one is for you to download onto your wife's phone when she isn't near it. They're both self-executing and will bypass anything that is password protected. All you gotta do is plug 'em in and you'll eventually find out everything you need to know."
"Thanks, Chris," I said. "And I won't forget this. If this all works out in my favor, I will make this right with you. I promise you that. I don't know how just yet, but I will make this worth your while some how."
"I know you will, Pat. Thanks again for breakfast." And with that, we got back into Chris' cruiser and headed back to the diner to my own vehicle. As we pulled away from the store, I saw Tonya at the front door. She coyly waved at me and blew me a kiss as I left. Chris was one lucky son of a bitch!
As I arrived back at the office, I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. I pulled it out to see that I had a text message. It was from Shannon.
"Hey, Patrick! Just wanted to say hello and I hope that you are having a fantastic day. Please be safe and know that I'm thinking of you. -- Shannon"
Wow. No text message had ever caused my heart to race before but this one did. It was simple yet elegant, just like Shannon. She just wanted me to know that she was thinking of me. Suddenly, the grimness that enveloped me when I stepped back into the office disappeared. With the intel that I hoped to gather on Clarissa and Bud in the coming days and weeks, plus my new relationship with Shannon, everything seemed to brighten instantaneously. I wasn't even that bothered when I asked Karen Landingham if Bud was in his office. "No, he's gone to lunch now and won't be back in the office for the remainder of the day."
I had a feeling that I knew where Bud was right at the moment. And I'm pretty sure Bud knew where I was at all times, too, thanks to the GPS.
I called it a day right at four o'clock and headed straight for the house. The boys were outside playing in the snow and were ecstatic to see me when I pulled in the drive. For the next hour or so we had a blast playing in the snow fort they had built and proceeded to have a raucous snow ball fight. By the time we came in for supper all three of us were drenched from the wet snow. Clarissa had a minor hissy fit and ordered all of us to strip down and change clothes before we came to supper. Fortunately, I still had clothes upstairs in my old bedroom closet that I could change into and I made myself presentable for dinner.
Clarissa made meatballs for supper, which was always a family favorite. Afterwards, I offered to clear the table to do the dishes to which she eagerly agreed.
"I'm going to draw myself a hot bath," she said. The last I saw of her that evening she had gone into the bathroom and had taken her iPod with her. I crept up the stairs and looked in our bedroom. To my utter amazement, she hadn't taken her phone with her. I quickly retrieved the external drive and plugged in the USB cable. Immediately, Clarissa's phone came to life and I saw the app being downloaded on to her phone. Within seconds, my own phone buzzed indicating that I had a text message. The text identified Clarissa's user name and password for her phone. Damn! How the hell could Tonya do that??? There was no way it could be legal, but I didn't care. The app quickly finished loading and I unplugged the USB cable and set her phone back down on the nightstand where I had found it.
I repeated the same maneuver on our family computer and installed the key logger program. I would have to wait until tomorrow or some other time for Clarissa to actually log in on the computer. But when she did, I would have complete and unfettered access to all of her email, Facebook account and anything else important. I doubted that she had a Twitter account but if she did, I would have access to that, too.
When I finished I shut down the computer and returned to the family room to play some more video games with the boys. As I looked at the Christmas tree in the corner of the room, I realized that Christmas was only a few days away and I needed to get my ass in gear and get some presents for the boys.
Clarissa still wasn't out of the tub yet by the time I tucked the boys into bed. I decided to quit while I was ahead and snuck out of the house so I didn't have to have another confrontation with her. But before I left I made sure to grab all of my old work uniforms from the closet and took them all with me to the motel.
The next day I called in to work and told Karen Landingham I would be using some comp time in the morning. I decided to take a drive downtown to the local Army/Navy surplus store. I snooped around until I found what I was looking for. I bought several sets and returned to my motel room. I had laid out a freshly cleaned and perfectly pressed uniform shirt and pants. I took what I had purchased at the surplus store, which was several sets of US Army Captain's rank, which consisted of two vertical silver bars side-by-side. I pinned one set of rank on the left collar of my shirt and a silver MCSD pin on the right collars, which was the abbreviation for Mason County Sheriff's Department. I then pinned a set of Captain's rank on the left and right shoulder epaulets of my uniform shirt. I finished off my ensemble to fastening my old equipment belt in place, complete with my Taser and my Smith and Wesson .40 caliber sidearm. For the first time in months, I actually felt like a law enforcement officer again.
I turned a lot of heads when I walked into work after lunch. Chris Hayes was sitting at his desk doing his paperwork from a domestic assault arrest he had made. He looked up at me as I walked by his desk and just nodded and smiled.
No sooner had I sat down when my desk phone buzzed and Karen Landingham told me that Bud wanted to see me. So, I thought, the old bastard is actually in his office.
"What the hell are you dressed like that for?"
"I'm a deputy. Chief Deputy, to be exact. And a captain. I'm wearing a uniform that reflects that."
"I don't remember authorizing any uniform like that."
"I don't remember you authorizing any uniform for this position, period," I replied coolly.
Bud walked toward me from behind his desk and chuckled. "I think I get it. You want to distance yourself from me and get back into the good graces of your fellow deputies, is that it? Sorry, Patrick. A leopard can't change his spots that quickly."
"My spots never changed, Bud. This is who I am and this is how I want to represent this position."
"Go ahead, Patrick. Keep challenging my authority. Every time you do, you just make me feel a little bit less guilty."
"Funny, Bud. I didn't think you had it in you to feel guilty, period." I turned around and left. I decided I wasn't going to let Bud ruin the rest of my day.
As fate would have it, I got a text message at that exact moment from Shannon.
"Just wanted to wish you a Happy Tuesday. For no particular reason. And to let you know you are thought of today. Be safe. -- Shannon"
I wrote back:
"Know that I think of you, as well. Your slightest touch could heal me in the hospital and your words can lift my spirit when I'm down. -- Patrick"
I looked up from my phone to see Bud Roberts glaring at me from his office door. I smiled and held up my phone for him to see. He immediately came charging into my office and asked me what the hell I was so cheery about.
"Because I finally decided that I'm not going to get all fucked up over you and Clarissa, Bud. Because I have finally figured out that you can only ruin me if I let you. And I'm not going to allow you to destroy me, Bud."
"Oh, yeah?" he chuckled. "And just exactly how do you think you're going to do that?"
"I have my ways, Bud, I have my ways. And I also have someone in my corner who has given me the strength to deal with this. I'm not going down without a fight."
"You'll lose, Patrick. Clarissa is mine now. You need to get used to that fact."
"Maybe I'm not even talking about Clarissa, Bud. Maybe I've accepted the fact that Clarissa and I are history. But just because I've accepted that fact doesn't mean that I've accepted the idea of you and Clarissa just riding off into the sunset, Bud."
"You need to stop jerking her around, Patrick. This whole stupid façade of you going home at night to play Daddy and husband just to keep up pretenses with your kids has got to end. I've been patient with you to a fault, Patrick. But my patience is wearing thin. Just remember one thing, Patrick -- inevitability. Whatever I decide to do is inevitable. I've got a hell of a lot of ammo I can still throw at you to bring your house of cards tumbling to the ground, Patrick. I haven't even begun to scratch the surface yet."
"Well," I said, "fortunately for me, I actually HAVE begun to scratch the surface, Bud. It's been like peeling an onion one layer at a time, one day at a time. It might take a while to get to the center, but eventually I'm gonna get there. And at the center of it all, is the truth. And I've made it my mission to see that people get the truth -- about me, about you, about everything."
Bud stood up and grew even sterner. "Don't make me do it, Patrick. I can really, really hurt you in ways you don't even know about. Think of your kids in the long term and what they'll think of you. They see you as a hero now. But if you piss me and Clarissa off any more, I will make them so damned ashamed of you they'll never want to leave the house again. They will absolutely dread showing their faces in college."
I rose from behind my desk. "And you, Bud, really need to think about how far you're willing to push me and whether threatening me over my children is a good idea. You told me to remember and accept what is inevitable. I'm telling you, Bud, to remember the unexpected. You just never know when a cornered animal will strike and you never know when something comes out of left field to bite you right in the ass."
Bud turned to leave my office. "It all ends, Patrick. The games with Clarissa. Everything ends right now. You and her are officially separating. Get it through your skull and get your boys to deal with it. Because, if you don't, then I will."
I really wanted to flip him off before he left but I could see others watching us. It was becoming increasingly apparent that the tension between me and Bud was palpable and visible and people were starting to wonder why.
I didn't worry about it much as I went to the house that afternoon. But judging from the surprised look on Clarissa's face it was obvious that she had spoken with Bud. Clarissa told me that she didn't have dinner prepared for tonight and that she would need to run to the store to pick up a few things. I told her that it was fine and that I could manage with the boys if she wanted to head to town to the store.
As she pulled out of the driveway I immediately logged on to our home computer. I activated the key logger system and, in no time at all, quickly obtained her email username and password. I also got her username and password for her Facebook account and for another one called Snapchat, which I had heard of but didn't know much about.
Soon, I was perusing literally months and years worth of emails between Clarissa and Bud. I continuously clicked on all of them and forwarded them to my own email account. I then quickly erased my activity by emptying out the "Sent" folder on her account as Tonya had instructed me. The sheer number of emails was overwhelming and I had no idea how I would go through them all. There were probably 600 or more emails over the last two years.
When I logged onto my own email account, I saw a massive amount of text messages that Tonya's program had forwarded directly to my account. I was still amazed that she could do that but she seemed incredibly smart. There were over 11,000 text messages from the last two years.
The texts started out fairly innocuous but I was amazed at how more and more brazen and flirtatious they became quickly into the affair. Soon, they were downright pornographic in nature and they began talking about taking their affair from the cyber world into the real one. Within a month of when they started texting, it appeared they had. It made me wonder exactly when Clarissa got her prescription of her Low-T treatment from her physician and how long she had been lying to me about it.
The emails didn't turn up nearly as much evidence as I would have hoped. And what little there was turned out to be mostly mundane. Oh, there was some flirty stuff but not nearly enough to be a smoking gun. The only juicy emails between the two of them occurred between Clarissa's email and Bud's personal email account, not his work-related one. But Tonya had assured me she would have a fix for that and so I saved each of them and forwarded them on to my personal account.
The overwhelming bulk of their correspondence was via text. I stayed up the rest of the night reading through text after text. I skipped most of the texts from the first year or so and picked up again from about six months ago, just shortly before I got shot during the kidnapping. Bud became both brazen and cryptic about what he had planned for me. From the sounds of it, I had been exactly right -- Bud had indeed planned on me going down for the count and going down hard.
I called in sick to work the next morning and decided to just stay at the hotel going over as many of the texts and emails as I possibly could. It hurt like hell to do so, reading a chronological timeline of my wife's affair with my boss. But I determined to steel through it and find some way to completely fuck both of them in the ass.
One text in particular caught my eye. Bud had mentioned to Clarissa that he had all the "evidence" he would need. He had typed it in quotes to highlight it. Clarissa responded to the text asking what he meant by that and Bud had elaborated some more. He told Clarissa that he had a "sure winner in Jeff" and that I would never appreciate the irony of it. He further went on to say that he had a "chain of evidence" that would ensure that I would never be able to challenge his authority in this entire fucked up situation.

Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 03:15 AM

Sure winner. Chain of evidence and Jeff. The only thing he could have been talking about was Jeff McCauley. Jeff McCauley was technically an employee of the Mason County Jail but was also in charge of our property and evidence room. I decided that I needed to explore those avenues and see what they turned up. If I was right, then Bud's attempts at being clever and cryptic weren't that good. God, that son-of-a-bitch had an ego!

I placed a quick call to Tonya Fulbright to ask for another favor. She picked up after the first ring.
"Heyyyy! What's up, buttercup? Never expected to hear from you so soon," she cooed. It was like talking to a long lost lover, only way more awesome and sexy.
"I hope I'm not bothering you. You've helped me so much already that I don't want to impose any further."
"Oh, my God, Patrick! You're not imposing at all. I've always got time for one of Christopher's hot, sexy co-workers!"
It isn't often that I'm at a loss for words. But I was. Big time. I would have to have her expound on that last statement some time in the future.
"Well, Tonya, I was wondering if you knew how to do a background check. I mean, like a really deep background check on someone."
"Patrick Quinn," she scolded me, "I just recently helped you install illegal software on your wife's phone and computer to access multiple layers of highly-encrypted software and hardware to help you data mine a treasure trove of personal information from your wife and her lover, who also happens to be a sitting elected public official. I think I can handle something as trivial and mundane as a fucking background check," she giggled.
"Uh, yes. Well, when you put it that way, I suppose it sounds like I'm underestimating your abilities."
"Yeah, no shit you're underestimating my abilities. Lucky for you you're so damned cute that I'm willing to overlook your transgression. Might have to be a penalty for your mistake in the future!"
Hmm. I was intrigued. "And what kind of penalty would that be?"
"You might have to put in some 'hard time', know what I mean?" She cackled mercilessly. She knew exactly what she was doing to me.
"Well, you, Chris and I can negotiate a payment plan in the future. But for now, I just need some essential information on a key employee of the Mason County Sheriff's Department."
"Ooh! Sounds sneaky! Who are we talking about, dear Patrick?"
"His name is Jeff McCauley. He is technically a jailer who also runs our property and evidence room."
"Okay, give me a sec." I could hear her beautiful black polished nails tickling a computer keyboard in the background. "Okay, I got him. What all do you want to know?"
"Well, what have you got?"
"I have one Jeffrey Malcolm McCauley, DOB 6/27/73. Lives at 834 Lincoln Street. Has a wife Marissa and two kids, Cicely and Tyson, ages 16 and 13 respectively. Wife is employed at Wells Fargo Bank as a teller. Only known civil issues are just a couple of old traffic tickets for both. Nothing else stands out on the criminal side."
Damn. Dead end. Something told me deep down that Bud had the screws put to Jeff to make him play ball. Somehow, Jeff was tied in with Bud. He had to be. Bud had SOME kind of leverage over him. But if not criminal, then what? Financial?
"Hey, Tonya, see what you can dig up on Jeff's financials. Can you do that?"
"God, Patrick? Are you TRYING to insult me? Wow! I'm gonna have to think of something REALLY good to punish you now!" I could only imagine what that might be. And it could only be awesome!
"Work your magic, Tonya. I need a miracle here, you know."
"I know, I know, Patrick. You know I'd do anything to you, er, I mean, FOR you," she giggled. She was merciless. And I loved it. "Okay, okay. I got it. Holy shit!"
I sat up in bed. "What? Holy shit what?"
"Jeff and his wife have a mortgage on their house for about $55,000. About normal for the part of town they live in. But Jeff has two credit cards in his name that are TOTALLY maxed out!"
"How much is on the cards?
"Jesus!" she said. "One card is maxed out at $60,000 and the other is tapped for another $35,000!"
I let out a long, slow whistle. "Can you dig deeper and find out where it is all going?"
"Give me a sec. I gotta get into the MasterCard system." I didn't even want to know if that was legal. After about 30 seconds she came back and asked, "Where the hell is Canterbury Park?"
I thought and thought for a minute. "Uh, Canterbury Park. I want to say it is a horse track over by Valley Fair amusement park, south side of the Twin Cities."
"Yep! It sure is," Tonya confirmed. "I'm looking at the website right now. I dunno, Patrick. It looks like our boy Jeff has a helluva gambling problem, because BOTH credit cards have been completely maxed out on cash advances from Canterbury Park."
That's it. That was totally it. Bud Roberts had Jeff McCauley by the balls. Even the mere appearance of anything that might be used to sway Jeff McCauley's influence would be enough to automatically remove him from his position as Property and Evidence Supervisor. All anyone had to do was know his situation and they could easily bribe or coerce him to do anything they wanted, considering he had nearly $100,000 in gambling debt. Bud Roberts should have removed him immediately as soon as he found out. But the fact that Jeff was still there meant Bud was using him for sure.
"Tonya, you are absolutely amazing. And I'm gonna make good on my promise to you and Chris. You have my word on that."
"You haven't promised me shit, Patrick. But I can think of plenty of ways for you to make it up to me."
"Uh," I said, sheepishly, "I'm not sure Chris would appreciate that."
"Chris and I have a very liberal understanding, Patrick. And an extremely mutual, yet open, relationship. We just have to agree on who we play with and be completely honest about it. And I'm thinking that a little rendezvous between you, me and Chris might just be thebangutic for us all! Just think about it, Patrick. And keep an open mind. That's all I'm saying."
"I'll do that, Tonya," I chuckled. "I promise. Thanks again for all your help."
"Bye, bye, sugar pie!" she said, hanging up.
It was time to pay a little visit to Jeff McCauley down at Property and Evidence.
I made a miraculous recovery the rest of the afternoon and evening and presented to work bright and early the next morning. As luck would have it, Bud Roberts had only two meetings scheduled that morning and then planned to be out of the office the rest of the day. Typical for a Friday.
I was preparing two civil warrants to be delivered later that day when I looked up from my desk around 10:30 and saw Bud Roberts leaving. He was on his phone and leaving in a hurry. As he got into the elevator to head downstairs, he looked at me, smiled and then flipped me the bird as the elevator doors closed. I guess that told me all I needed to know about where he was headed.
Shortly after he left, I paid a little visit to the Property and Evidence room. Jeff McCauley stood about 5'6 and about 180 pounds. He wore his hair in a bad comb over to compensate for a growing bald spot and he sported an over-size porn mustache to compensate for his loss of hair and a profound overbite. He never quite had what it took to become a deputy but he had, for the most part, always been fairly well liked and regarded by everyone in the department.
"Good morning, Jeff," I said nonchalantly, as I arrived.
"Captain," he said, somewhat startled. "This is a surprise. What brings you all the way down to P & E today?"
"Well, I'm still getting used to a lot of my new duties as Chief Deputy. And, as you know well, one of my actual duties is to oversee Property and Evidence. So, I thought there was no better time than now to come down and go over the property and evidence logs to see how they are kept and whether they are up-to-date. As you can see, I brought the Property and Evidence SOPs with me and I thought you and I could have a chance to go over them and make sure everything is as it should be."
Jeff face visibly paled and he suddenly appeared nervous. "Well, I've been in this office for five years now, Captain. I can assure you that everything is ship-shape. Bud's never had a single complaint about me the entire time I've been here."
"No doubt. Nor should he, I'm sure. But as I said, I'd like to go over the logs and kind of do my own eyes-on inventory to make sure what we have actually matches the logs. I'm sure you understand that."
I could sense Jeff shifting his weight. His right hand was very slightly but visibly trembling. His breathing rate quickened.
"Well, Captain, the logs and inventory are completely computerized now. I just finished the last weekly inventory just this morning. I can show you the results right now."
"Great! Go ahead and print it off and we can go through the arms room and evidence room ourselves and visually verify it."
Jeff froze in place. He was obviously petrified.
"Something wrong, Jeff?"
"Well, Captain, it's just that I already finished the inventory and I was gonna knock off early today and planned on taking some comp time."
"That's funny," I said, faking confusion. "I'm sure you know that payroll and paid time off requests come through my office, Jeff. I never saw any PTO request from you this week. You do know, of course, that they need to be approved at least 24 hours in advance." Jeff just looked away from me and was breathing fast and hard through his nose. I decided to torture him a little further. "I'll tell you what, Jeff. Let's burn through a quick inventory and then I'll let you take the rest of the day off. How's that sound?"
He didn't bite. He just stood there not knowing what else to say. I decided to lay down my trump card. I stood directly in front of him and looked him straight in the eyes. His bottom lip was even starting to tremble.
"I know, Jeff," I said in a low voice. "I know about your extreme credit problems. I know that you owe nearly twice as much on credit cards as you do on your house. I know that you spend almost every weekend in Minneapolis at the track and that you lose profusely. I know that you're at the breaking point and you're going to soon be in danger of losing your job, your family and your home. And I know that Bud Roberts knows all of this, too, and is holding it over your head to get you to help him screw me over."
Jeff immediately burst into stifled sobbing and sat down at his desk with his head in his hands.
"I can help you, Jeff," I said, pulling up a chair. "But you've gotta help me, too. And you can start by telling me exactly what it is that Bud has you doing for him. And you can't hold anything back, either. You gotta be 100% straight and true if you want me to help you, Jeff."
It took Jeff several minutes to get himself under control. Finally when he did, he wanted to talk.
"Captain," he started.
"Call me Pat," I said.
"Okay, Pat," he continued, "you say you'll help me. I gotta know that ain't just a comment. I need you to promise me on everything you hold dear that you will help me. You understand?"
I leaned in beside him and put my hand on his shoulder. "Jeff, look at me." He did. "You have my word and I promise you on the life of my children that I will do whatever I can to help you."
"Including keeping me out of jail?" Jesus, I thought! What in the hell did Bud have Jeff doing?
"Jeff, I don't know what all you and Bud are mixed up in. But I promise to do my best to keep you out of jail. I can't promise you that you will NOT go to jail. Only that I'll do my damnedest to keep you out of there."
Jeff dried his eyes, wiped his nose and nodded his head. "Well then, Pat, I guess we better take a little ride."
"I'm gonna bring a few people along, Jeff. Just for posterity's sake."
"Probably a good idea, Pat."
I called in Danny Larson, Chris Hayes, another female deputy named Angel Ryerson, and one of our Lieutenants, Benito "Ben" Villanueva. I didn't know most of our lieutenants that well but I knew Ben better than the rest. I wasn't sure how he felt about me being Captain now, having passed him over, even though he never applied for my position. But I needed to take a shot in the dark. Ben was probably one of the most well-liked and trusted members of the department in general. He was the picture of polished professionalism in all matters and he was an extremely good officer and a very fair shift supervisor. I needed to trust that he would put any personal animosity beside at this point and focus on the problem at hand. Jeff had assured me that what Bud was having him do would absolutely blow my socks off when I found out. I felt that such a premonition warranted having some additional witnesses.
I told everyone to meet me at 4:00 pm, just after the afternoon shift change. I made sure that Jeff McCauley never got out of my sight the rest of the day following our morning encounter. I ended up driving Jeff and myself back to the Skyline Driver Motel where I retrieved my F-150 crew cab, as I had already made sure that Bud was not tracking my personal vehicle with GPS. Then I told everyone else to follow me and drive their own personal vehicles, but only after Chris Hayes and I did a precursory check to ensure that no one's vehicles had any GPS tracking devices planted. Danny, Angel and Ben looked at us as though we were insane but they went along with it. Then I insisted that everyone take out their personal and department-issued phones and remove the battery, rendering them useless and untraceable. There was some general bitching, but they did as I had asked.
Jeff and I jumped in my truck and Ben, Angel, Danny and Chris all rode in Ben's Chevy Silverado. We drove to the northwest part of Red River Falls near the new industrial park. Jeff had me stop at a complex of storage sheds that were part of Red River Rentals. We all proceeded on foot to unit #189. Jeff produced a single key for the tamper-resistant padlock on the roll-up door to the shed.
"Remember," Jeff said, "remember what you promised me, Pat. And remember that none of this is my fault."
"Open the unit, Jeff," I commanded. Jeff proceeded to unlock the padlock and flung the roll-up door open. He pulled the string to a single light-switch that illuminated the room. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.
There were storage shelves along the west wall of the shed running the full length. Sitting on those shelves were numerous white paper bags and white paper boxes all sealed with red tamper-resistant tape. Doing a quick scan, I estimated that there were over 80 bags and boxes of evidence sitting on those shelves.
"Holy Jesus," I said aghast. "My God, Jeff. What the hell have you done?"
"What the fuck?" Angel said.
"Is that what I think it is, Pat?" Danny asked, incredulous.
"Oh, my fucking God," was all Ben could say.
We all proceeded to walk into the shed as a group and stare horrified at the boxes and bags of evidence that had been surreptitiously removed from our secure evidence lockers and transported over three miles to a remote rented storage facility in a very bad part of town.
There were boxes containing clothing, weapons used in assaults, weapons used in murders, bang collection kits and all other forms of material and criminal evidence in over 80 cases. Some of the evidence was from cases that were ongoing. Some was from cases closed ten years ago.
Danny just stood there, shaking his head in disbelief. "My God, Jeff. What the fuck have you done?"
All I could do was just stare at the wall of evidence and imagine my life slowly vanishing away, one white box or bag at a time. I wanted to scream. So I did.
"Fuck.....fuck.....fuck.....Fuck........FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!"
"Look, Pat, I'm-"
"I CAN'T EVEN BEGIN TO OVERSTATE HOW IMMENSELY IMPORANT IT IS THAT YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW, JEFF!" McCauley just stood there, head hanging down.
"Jesus, Pat! Do you know what this means?" Angel asked?
"Bud had me between a rock and a hard place, Pat," Jeff pressed on.
"I said shut the fuck up, Jeff! Look at that wall, Jeff! Look! Do you see what I see? I see years' and years' worth of evidence that was ILLEGALLY taken from a secure evidence room and transported MILES away without proper authorization or documentation! Do you know what that is called, Jeff? Do you? It is called EVIDENCE TAMPERING! There are over eighty cases worth of evidence on those fucking shelves, Jeff! Do you know what that means? It means over eighty cases of evidence tampering! It means that a whole fucking shitload of really messed up and shitty people could get released from prison because of you, Jeff! It means a ten-year prison sentence for each count! Can you do math, Jeff? Do you know what eighty times ten is, you stupid fucking prick????!!!!"
Jeff hung his head and meekly uttered, "eight hundred."
"Yes! That's right! Apparently you aren't as retarded as I thought! Eight-hundred years, Jeff! That's how long I could potentially go to jail for! It's effectively a death sentence, you fucking moron!"
I began to pace the room like a rabid, caged animal while the others just stared at the wall in disbelief, horror and shock.
"How the fuck did you get it all here?" Chris wanted to know.
"My personal vehicle," came Jeff's sheepish reply.
"How were you able to sign it out?" Angel demanded.
"Bud used Patrick's electronic signature. He was able get it somehow from our IT guy, Dean Strobe. Bud signed it out and made me deliver it here."
"Pat, can I have a word alone?" It was Ben Villanueva. As always he was a voice of reason. We walked outside into the cold about 100 feet from the entrance. "Pat, you got a real mess on your hands in there. You want to explain to me what the heck is going on in there?"
"Ben, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me."
I realized he was right and I needed to let everyone in on what our collective boss was trying to do. Ben and I walked back into the shed and I gathered everyone around. I spent the next fifteen minutes giving them all the Cliff Notes version of the events and what had led up to this point. I also spent a few minutes explaining Jeff McCauley's role in this, much to his dismay and shame. To say that Ben, Angel, Chris and Danny were shocked would be a phenomenal understatement. They all knew that Bud Roberts was flamboyant, cocky and a little arrogant. But until now, they had all like him and like working for him. Now they understood just how much of a bastard he could really be.
"So what do we do now?" Angel asked.
"Simple," I replied. "The evidence has to go back in place and right fucking now."
"Not that simple, Amigo," Ben said. "I'm going to assume that it literally took weeks for Jeff and Bud to get all this evidence moved out here. I mean, there are several murder investigations in here, most of which are closed. This whole process is going to get them new trials, get the perps sprung from jail and is going to bring disrepute on the entire department and the Bureau of Criminal Investigations. There is no way to keep a lid on this, Pat."
Or was there? I cast a look over to Chris Hayes. He was thinking the same thing I was and answered my thoughts with the words, "child's play." Tonya could easily fix this situation and revert the records back to the time before the evidence shuffle took place. He quickly explained to the group what Tonya's capabilities were and how quickly she could do it. A quick phone call from Chris to Tonya sealed the deal and she agreed to meet us at the sheriff's office as soon as we had everything loaded.
Ben, Angel and Danny all implored me to just cut my losses and report everything to the Bureau of Criminal Investigations. I, in turn, implored them to follow my plan and return all of the evidence to the Sheriff's office tonight, scrub the records and make sure that chain of custody remained intact. I said that we couldn't risk letting six convicted murderers go free or any of the other bad people who were in prison right now because of this evidence. I assured them, as did Chris Hayes, that Tonya was as good as they come and she could have the records reverted to the way they were before the evidence was taken out of lock up, so long as there weren't any hard copies anywhere. Jeff McCauley assured us there were not, that the entire system was now digital, which explains why Bud was able to get away with it by stealing my electronic signature.

Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 03:17 AM

Reluctantly, they all agreed. It was getting dark out and we would have the cover of darkness to help us in our retrieval. Before we got too far along, Jeff reminded me of the deal we had made.

"You promised you'd help me, Pat."
"I'll do everything I can, Jeff. But I absolutely will NOT allow you to be in control of the evidence room anymore."
"But Pat-"
"No buts about it, Jeff. It's not an option. I'll keep you employed and I'll do whatever we have to in order to get you help for your gambling problem. But there is no way you'll ever be in charge of the P&E again. I'll talk to Bryce Evans and get you switched back to the jail full time soon. But all of your pass codes, passwords and access to the armory and evidence rooms are getting revoked. You will not have access to ANYTHING down there without the presence of me or one of the other deputies here. The only thing you'll be able to do on your computer from now is play solitaire!"
Jeff was about to say or moan his disapproval but a stern look from Ben dissuaded him. The stupid fuck was just lucky to still have a job and not my foot in his ass. He was also damned lucky not to be going to jail, either.
Tonya met us at the Sheriff's office and immediately started to work on the electronic records. It was well after 8 pm by the time we got all of the evidence loaded in the back of my truck and transported back. Jeff was at least good about making sure the evidence all went back into its proper spot on the shelves in the evidence room. By midnight, Tonya had finished reversing all of the electronic transactions and had even managed to access Bud Roberts' email account and scrub the electronic copies of the transactions that Jeff had previously emailed to him. There no longer was any electronic trace of Bud Roberts' massive attempt to frame me for over eighty counts of evidence tampering.
"Thanks a million, every one," I said to the group. "And especially to Chris and Tonya. This is the second time you guys have bailed me out. I have no idea how I will repay you all. But trust me when I say that I won't forget this."
Ben, Angel and Danny all shook hands with me before they left but I could tell that they were all extremely uneasy with being burdened with such a huge secret. I assured them all that if it ever blew up that I would absolutely shoulder 100% accountability. As far as I was concerned, this was now strictly between me, Bud and Jeff McCauley. I went so far as to verbally threaten Jeff with his life if he breathed a word of this to anyone.
"Chris? Tonya? Can I chat with you guys a minute before you leave?"
"Sure thing," Tonya chimed. "What's up?"
"I really hate to bother you. You've both done so much for me already. But I'm wondering if I can push the bounds of our friendship a bit further by asking for one more favor."
"What kind of favor?" Chris asked.
"Same lines as before. Only this time I need an ace in the hole. I need to have a backup plan in case Bud Roberts decides to fight me on this. I don't want to be the one standing without a chair when the music stops, if you know what I mean."
"I see where you're going with this. You think there's more people in on this whole thing than just Bud Roberts," Chris deduced.
"Oh, I know there is. I just need to figure out how to get some leverage on this person to get him to go to bat for me instead of Bud. How good are you at snooping around on a person's personal computers if I can get you the IP addresses?"
"I could do it in my sleep, Sean Patrick Quinn, Junior," Tonya cooed. "Who are we going to spy on, Mister Bond?"
Both of their jaws dropped when I told them. But the game was afoot and they were both in it to help me win it.
I was the last one of our group to leave the Sheriff's office that night. As I got back to my F-150, I replaced my phone's battery, turned it on and saw that I had a text message that had been received several hours ago.
"Bridget and I are free this weekend. Any chance we might get to see you?"
Oh, hell yes, there was! Suddenly, the anger and frustration of the last twelve hours disappeared. It was pushing one o'clock in the morning but I still replied:
"Me and my boys are planning on making a day of it at the sledding hill. I think it is time we took Bridget out and see how the new toboggan works!"
I figured I'd get an answer from her in the morning but my phone vibrated again just as I pulled out of the lot. I paused and read her message:
"OMG! She will be ecstatic! I'm coming, too! Mom and Dad will probably show up to take pictures! Can't wait to meet your boys!"
Suddenly, I wasn't sure what to think about introducing the boys to Shannon. But then I realized that, if things kept going the way they were now, they would more than likely be meeting Shannon at some point. I couldn't help but smile at the thought. I quickly thumbed:
"It's a date!"
To which she replied:
"<3"
Yet again, for the umpteenth time, I pissed off Clarissa by showing up bright and early to pick up Nick and Jake to take them to the sledding hill. We had gotten an additional ten inches of snow earlier in the week so I was sure the sledding hill would be busy.
My phone started buzzing just as I was getting ready to leave. I glanced at it and saw that it was none other than Bud Roberts. I silenced the call as the boys loaded their own sleds into my F-150 and I headed out the door after them. I was too anxious to see Shannon and Bridget and didn't even care about Clarissa's bitchy comment as I left the house.
"It would be nice, Patrick, if you thought of other people than just yourself once in a while," she hissed. "You are seriously going to regret this, Mister. Big time!"
"Oh, get over yourself," I retorted. "Remember what I said? Maybe you and Bud aren't exactly holding all the cards anymore. Remember that. When you don't have much left, you don't have much to lose. You might want to think about how dangerous that could be for you."
"God, please, Patrick. If you had any way out of this by now, you would have done it already. You're just a gutless windbag, Patrick. And a wimp. I should have dumped your ass a long time ago." And she slammed the door shut behind me.
Fortunately, neither of the boys heard our little exchange. And, fortunately for me, I was able to keep my mouth shut and my cards still close to my chest. Besides, nothing was going to ruin this day for me.
We arrived at the sledding hill right around nine. Shannon and Bridget were already there waiting for us. Bridget ran over to me and I scooped her up and bear hugged her. My boys were both a little confused at my obvious affection for the little girl until I explained to them who she was and why she was special to me. Shannon was impressed with the boys and said she couldn't get over how handsome they were. The boys both blushed but still took in the flattery for all it was worth.
Nick and Jake immediately took Bridget into their embrace and proceeded to take turns sledding down the big hill and helping her make her way back to the top again. Shannon and I stood at the top of the hill watching them all, each of us nursing a cup of hot cocoa from the small snack stand that was only open on the weekends.
"I wasn't humoring them, Patrick," Shannon said. "Your boys are very handsome. They totally favor their father."
I stood close to her and briefly took her gloved hand in my own and said, "Thank you. You don't know how much it means to hear that. And you have no idea how much I've been looking forward to seeing you again."
"I was hoping so, Patrick. But I have to say that you look tired and extremely stressed. Is everything okay?"
"No," I said, bowing my head. "It most decidedly is not okay. You wouldn't believe the last 48 hours of my life."
"Try me," she said. "I'm a nurse so that makes me as good a listener as any bartender," she chuckled.
We sat down at one of the park benches where we could still keep an eye on the kids. The boys were doing a marvelous job of playing with and looking after Bridget. It took me a few minutes, but I eventually recounted the whole story. I told her about Jeff McCauley and his position at the department, his financial and marital problems, about his massive gambling problem and how Bud Roberts was using that to try and completely fuck me over.
"You have no idea, Shannon. I just can't believe he would go that far. Bad enough that he wants to steal my wife from me. But prison? He was going to make sure I went away for a long, damned time."
"My God, Patrick. Is there anything you can do? I mean, you have all the evidence, right? Can't you just go to the state security officer and have him charged?"
I explained to Clarissa how doing so would open up every case related to the evidence and how some very bad people would almost certainly go free. Every piece of evidence that was removed from P&E related to cases I had been involved with from my time at the Red River Falls security officer Department to the last couple of years I had been on the Mason County Sheriff's Department. But the state Attorney General and his prosecutors would almost certainly review the handling of EVERY piece of evidence in our evidence room. It would almost certainly invite re-trials of over two thousand criminal cases in the last decade or more since Jeff McCauley had been running the P&E office. And, if re-trials were ordered, NONE of that evidence would likely be admissible, given the possibility of chain-of-custody being breached.
"But you know what the worst part is, Shannon?"
"Could anything possibly be worse, Patrick?"
"Oh, yes. The worst part is that Bud would have ruined me in my sons' eyes for the rest of their lives. My sons would have finished growing up thinking I was a common criminal. Nothing I could ever have said to them would have meant anything. Any fatherly advice would have just been empty words from a criminal. They would have grown up and become men and I would have had absolutely nothing to do with it. If they became good men, it would have been in spite of me. If they grew up to be bad men, it would most certainly have been because of me. I would have been better off dead."
Shannon embraced my right arm and put her head on my shoulder. "Not as long as I'm around, Patrick. I'll make sure that never happens."
I was just about to lean in and kiss Shannon when I noticed that Nick, Jake and Bridget were all standing at the top of the hill, ready for their next run, and were staring at us.
"I'm just cold," Shannon said. "I hope you don't mind me hugging your Dad. He is nice and warm, that's all."
The boys both kind of smiled sheepishly and Bridget just giggled. And then in a flash, they all three disappeared down the hill again. I took the opportunity to steal a quick kiss and said, "Nice save!"
At that moment, Shannon's parents both arrived at the bench we were sitting at, cameras in hand to take pictures of Bridget sledding. Shannon stood and embraced her mother, followed by a hug for her Dad. I stood, too, on ceremony and extended my hand to both parents. Suzanne shook warmly. Jack gripped my hand, too, but there was a strange look on his face. I could tell he was eyeing me warily. I wondered if maybe he had seen me kiss Shannon just moments before.
He said very little over the course of the next hour or so as we all watched the kids sled. The most reaction I got out of him was when he looked at me as I was looking at him and simply gave me a nod of his head. He then returned his gaze to his granddaughter as she continued sledding with the boys.
Suzanne and Shannon sat in the middle with Jack and me sitting on opposite ends. The two ladies chatted enough for everyone. Suzanne spoke with me just long enough to tell me how impressed she was with my two boys and I thanked her.
I finally got up and excused myself so I could take a couple of turns sledding down the hill with my boys and Bridget. Bridget was all excited and insisted that I ride with her. The boys both preferred to ride solo, anyway, and were getting big enough that two riders on their sleds was a bit much. I had a blast sledding with Bridget, I really did. Shannon just sat there and she and her mother both beamed their smiles in delight. Jack, however, just sat there stoically. It didn't happen that day, but I knew that a time would come when he would want to have a serious talk. I didn't know how much he knew about my personal situation. Maybe he didn't even care. But I hoped that he wouldn't crucify me over it and would at least understand my side of things. At the very least, I hoped he didn't take anything out on Shannon. He didn't strike me as the type of man who would, but you just never knew. Shannon was Jack's only child. She and Bridget were the two things he cared most about in the world.
We broke up the sledding party around 12:30 as the kids were all starting to get hungry. I was, too, and the boys started harping on me to take them out to lunch. Bridget immediately chimed in with stating very loudly where she wanted to go and the boys agreed.
"Okay, I guess," Shannon said. "Looks like we're taking the sledding party to McDonald's!"
We all piled into three separate vehicles and spent about an hour at the restaurant eating and visiting. Even Jack and Suzanne came along, which Shannon said was a big deal as her father hardly ever eats fast food. I sensed Jack came along more to keep an eye on me than anything else. I was good and mannerly and didn't even sit next to Shannon. I more or less watched the kids eat and then watched them play together on the indoor play set. Nick was getting kind of old for that and usually didn't play anymore on the rare occasions when we went to McDonald's. But he continued to eat up the attention that he was getting from Bridget and he and Jake had fun playing with her. I couldn't help but smile to myself and think how awesome big brothers they could be to Bridget. Perhaps some day in the future, I thought.
After lunch, Shannon invited everyone back to her place. I decided to take a pass on that and told her that I had promised to take the boys to a movie that afternoon. I figured I had probably worn out my welcome with Jack and didn't want to push it. I sensed that Shannon figured it out and gave me an all-too-brief hug as we left. Of course I had to give Bridget a big old bear hug and promised that we would do all of this again real soon. Even the boys and Bridget exchanged hugs and we left.
We did take in the theater that afternoon, a double feature, in fact. My boys were usually up for going to see a movie and I let them each pick out a show they wanted to see. So we gorged some more on popcorn, snacks and sodas at the theater and grabbed more fast food to eat on the way home that evening as it was supper time by the time I got the boys home anyway.
As I pulled my truck into the driveway, I could see another obvious set of fresh tire tracks of a vehicle that had pulled in earlier in the day.
As we got in the house, the unmistakable smell of Bud Roberts' cologne still hung in the air. Clarissa stood at the entrance to the kitchen looking smug. She could tell that I could smell the cologne and cocked her head to the side, arched her brow and said, "Something wrong, Patrick?"
I just shook my head, hugged each of the boys and told them I would look for them in church tomorrow. They now understood that I wasn't staying there full-time but hadn't asked much more than that, at least not to me anyway. And at least Clarissa had the decency to not whore herself out to Bud when the boys were around. I swore to myself that if that ever happened, there would, in fact, be absolutely NOTHING to stop me from strangling Bud Roberts or putting a bullet in his head. The thought alone enraged me. And, yet, I was almost terrified that I was now certain that I could get angry enough to really hurt or kill someone.
I pondered the thought as I drove back to my dilapidated hotel. My misery was exchanged for determination as I turned on my laptop and began reading through more text messages and emails between Clarissa and Bud. Sure enough, the most recent texts were from today.
Clarissa: Asshole just showed up, took the boys. No call ahead, nothing. Keeps fucking up my life. U need to fix this shit.
Bud: Trust me, babe. On this shit. Be cool, though. He'll be looking for my left jab and get knocked out by my right hook.
Clarissa: He never showed up last night. Didn't answer his phone. His cruiser was at the office last night when boys and I went out to eat. Still there at nine when we went home. What do you have him doing?
Bud: Not doing anything special I know of. Saw it on my GPS. Drove by too and checked it out. His office light still on even. Guessing he just there as now he has nowhere else to go.Will look into it, though.
Clarissa: U need to look into me first, lol. Mama's getting feisty. KWIM? Got an itch needs scratched, lol.
Bud: I scratch yours if you scratch mine, lol.
Clarissa: I lick yours if you lick mine, lol.
Bud: Be there in twenty!
I couldn't stomach reading anymore and just shut off the computer. So, Clarissa knew I was at the sheriff's office until late last night. I'm sure that would elicit some questions from Bud in the coming days. Fortunately, Christmas was coming up and Bud was going to be taking almost two weeks' vacation. After next Tuesday, we wouldn't see him again until after the first of the year.
It was now 9:30 pm. All of a sudden, my phone vibrated with a text. It was Shannon!
Munchkin is down for the count. You totally wore her out today! Wanna stop by for a late glass of wine or two?
Now it was my turn to text:
Be there in twenty!
Actually, by the time I freshened up and pulled in front of her little house on Front Street, it had only been about fifteen minutes. Hopefully, Shannon wouldn't see this as a sign of eager anticipation or desperation on my part. But, then again, why in the hell would she invite me over for wine this late at night? Maybe our connection was strong enough that we could just bypass the pretentions. One can only hope!
I knocked lightly, knowing Bridget was in bed. Shannon opened the door and stood in front of me dressed in a set of two-piece plum colored velvet pajamas. I stepped inside and removed my coat and hung it on the hook.
"Hello, gorgeous," I said as we fell into our embrace.
"Hello, handsome," she replied.
Our lips met again in a red hot kiss and I knew immediately that things were going to pick up right where they left off from our last scorching encounter. The feel of the velvet PJs was exquisite and immediately my hands began exploring completely on auto pilot. We continued to kiss as I ran my hands all over her back, hips and buttocks. The response of Shannon's body told me that absolutely nothing was off limits and every inch of her begged to be explored.
"Get over here, you!" she commanded, as my hands finally made contact with her immaculate breasts. She broke our kiss and led me by the hand over to her sofa. Once there, I directed Shannon to lie down on the sofa and I knelt beside her. I leaned in and kissed her deeply, stroking her face and hair with my right hand and used my left hand to take in the sensations of exploring the rest of her velvet-clad body. Over and over again, I ran my hand up and down, absorbing how good the material felt on my hand and taking in the effect it was having on Shannon, too. She was now arching her back, hoping that each pass of my hand would find its way across her breasts, her stomach, her hips, thighs and, especially, her pubic mound.

Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 03:18 AM

I did this for several minutes, kissing her passionately and feeling every inch of her. Shannon then brought her right knee up and let her left leg slide off the edge of the sofa. On the next pass of my hand, I brought my hand to a halt on her velvet-shrouded mound, with my fingers on her velvet-covered pussy. I briefly made a gripping motion with my hand and gently but firmly squeezed. The response was electric and Shannon grabbed my face and kissed me deeply. I started to make small circular motions with the fingertips of my hand around the burgeoning outline of her steadily swelling clit. This elicited stifled signs and moans from Shannon's lips as we continued to kiss with steadily increasing urgency. I alternated my swirls with sliding my fingers up and down the full length of her vaginal slit. Shannon would thrust her hips upward, willing my fingers to continue drawing out the orgasm she so desperately needed to release.

After bringing her to the edge several times, I paused to slowly unbutton the blouse of her pajamas and released her spectacular breasts. I returned my hand to its proper place on her velvet-shrouded pussy and could now feel the wetness of her sex beginning to seep through. The lips of her pussy were now swollen and I could feel a fresh rush of fluid seep through as I released my kiss and took her left nipple into my mouth. I suckled her and made swirling motions with my tongue on her tit. Not wanting it to feel left out I did the same thing with her right breast and continued to drive her wild by grinding on her pussy with my left hand. Finally, she grabbed the back of my head and violently pulled my head into her cleavage. She began bucking her hips and pussy against my hand as her first orgasm of the night washed over her.
Shannon took a minute to compose herself and I continued to lightly suckle on her breasts, occasionally kissing her beautiful stomach. The crotch of her velvet pajama pants was absolutely soaked by now and the magnificent outline of her swollen camel toe protruded like an incredibly erotic bas relief. Shannon slipped the fingers of her right hand inside her pants and touched herself, getting her fingers good and wet with her own fluids. She then withdrew her hand and moistened her left nipple with her juices by making a swirling motion. I engulfed the nipple in my mouth and began earnestly sucking and licking the pussy juice off her swollen nipple. Shannon repeated this several times with each breast and I eagerly cleaned both nipples and breasts each time, savoring the taste of her juices.
Finally, I couldn't take the teasing anymore and I had to have all of her. I positioned myself by her knees and gently began pulling her pajamas bottoms down her legs, taking in the wondrous sight of exposing her beautiful and sodden pussy as I did so.
"You better get comfortable," I warned her, discarding the last of her pants and panties. "I plan on being down here a while." Shannon just smiled in anticipation and shifted her upper body to get more comfortable. Then she closed her eyes and waited for me to take her in my mouth.
I gently parted her legs, bringing her knees up and resting both feet on my shoulders as I got in good and close. The heavenly aroma and heat of her pussy washed over my face and it seemed as if her juices were literally streaming out of her. I started by gently spreading her pussy lips apart with the fingertips of my hands, which elicited a wave of pleasure for her all its own. I then started by making gentle but firm swirls around her incredibly swollen clit and I knew that her next orgasm was only a few licks away. I then flattened my tongue and made a long swipe all the way from the bottom of her vagina to the top and ended with another swirl around her clit. Shannon almost came right then and there.
"Oh, God, Patrick! That feels soooooo amazing," she cooed, breathlessly. "Please do that again. Please make me cum, Patrick."
I repeated the maneuver again, and elicited a fresh wave of fluids. I made a seal over her clit with my mouth and repeatedly swirled my tongue around her engorged clit. Shannon was now actively bucking her hips and panting feverishly.
"I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm cumming," she whispered. And cum she did. She grabbed my head again and grinded her pussy against my mouth, absolutely flooding my face and the cushion of the sofa in her fluids.
Shannon lay there as I gently massaged her pussy with my fingers as I waited for the tremors and spasms to subside. I could see the muscles of her pussy flexing and releasing as her orgasm continued to plateau. Finally, I slipped a finger inside her moist depths and felt the muscles of her vagina grip it fervently. I withdrew and then slipped another finger inside, which was met by an even more favorable response as she gasped and arched her back. I returned my mouth to her clit and slowly started working her to another orgasm by simultaneously suckling her clit and rhythmically sliding my fingers in and out of her drenched pussy. There was so much fluid seeping out of her pussy that I briefly became concerned about her becoming dehydrated. But I knew there was no way she would want to stop and I continued on.
"Oh, fuck, that feels so good!" I had never heard her swear before. Shannon was too far gone and absorbed in her carnal passion that she just didn't care. I didn't either and continued on and on until I had brought her to at least three more powerful orgasms.
I had a raging erection in my pants throughout this time. Just the smell of a warm, moist and inviting pussy is enough to send me into overdrive and I needed to release my cock from its denim-clad prison. I stood up, kicked off both shoes and immediately dropped my pants and boxers in one motion. I threw off my Vikings sweatshirt and t-shirt and stood before Shannon completely nude. Shannon sat up, eyeing my throbbing cock and smiled with delicious anticipation as she reached forward and gently took my huge and heavy ball sack in her hands. I stood Shannon up and took her place lying on the sofa. I then turned her around and pulled her down on top of me in a sixty-nine position.
I watched in glorious anticipation as she climbed into position and took in the sight of that glorious and perfect ass and pussy and it began to lower itself onto my face. Shannon paused again, savoring the moment when my mouth made contact yet again with her soaking womanhood. My excitement and anticipation went into overdrive as the tip of my nose made contact with her flexing and releasing sphincter. I breathed deeply in the taboo, slightly pungent but highly arousing scent.
Shannon leaned slightly forward and dropped an entire mouthful of saliva on my rock hard penis. She then proceeded to lube it up by gently stroking it with her hand and then swallowed my manhood to my balls in one quick motion. She used her other hand to gently squeeze and massage my massive scrotum and balls. It was so good to be with a woman who appreciated a man with balls!
I totally went to town trying to lick and lap up every last drop of pussy juice that was continually flowing from her vagina. I did my best to try and keep up with it, but soon another orgasm would flood over her body and a fresh tidal wave would gush all over my face, especially when I would make a quick swirl of my tongue around her puckered anus. That seemed to be the button that really released the flood gates.
I must have brought Shannon to nearly a dozen orgasms with my mouth alone. I've always been very oral but Shannon seemed to be incredibly receptive to it as well. Perhaps it was the length of time since she had been in a sexual relationship or maybe it was something incredibly powerful that occurred since I had saved Bridget from the kidnapping. Whatever it was, I had never experienced such a monumental sexual connection with any other woman I had been with, either.
I gently pushed Shannon off the top of me but she simply knelt down by the side of the couch and continued sucking my cock without ever breaking stride. My face, neck and chest were absolutely drenched with her juices and I just laid there and absorbed the incredibly sensory overload that occurred from her taste, the smell of her sex and the otherworldly sensations of her sweet mouth as it continued to slide up and down my cock.
The sensation was becoming too much and I was in danger of blowing a massive nut before I had even gotten the chance to slide my dick inside her pussy. I sat Shannon down on the sofa and then had her slide forward just enough so that her butt was partially over the edge and she was still able to support herself with her legs. I knelt in between her legs and aimed my cock at her sopping entrance. I used my thumb to stroke and swirl her clit just a little more but she would have none of that and slapped my hand away.
"Don't tease me, Patrick," she gasped. "I need you inside me. I want you to fuck me to the moon and back!"
I glided my rigid member in effortlessly, so wet was her pussy. It was a comfortable position for Shannon and she just laid there and let herself get fucked. She cooed and moaned softly, her massive breasts bouncing in rhythm to my stroking. All of her skin was glistening in a light layer of sweat and the slightly raw, musky aroma added to the mix of our sexual union to create a sensually erotic atmosphere.
I picked up the intensity of my stroking, faster and harder. I could feel the muscles of Shannon's vagina begin to contract and squeeze my cock.
"Ooh, ooh, yeah! Oh, yeah," she moaned. "Oh, you feel so good, Patrick! I love the way your cock feels inside my pussy! Oh, it feels so damned good! Make me cum again, Patrick! I wanna cum again for you so badly." And that she did. I was going at her with full strokes and slamming my cock into her harder than ever and she loved it! "Oh, God! Yes! That's it! Oh, Patrick! You are so amazing! Oooooooohhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!"
I couldn't hold back any longer either and I started to feel the familiar tightening in my groin. "Oh, God, you feel so good, Shannon! I can't hold it anymore! I'm gonna cum, too," I said, nearly out of breath.
Shannon immediately shoved me back with such force that I nearly fell over. My cock was out of her and dripping with her juices. She continued to push me back until I was flat on my back on the floor and then she completely swallowed me whole. She began to suck me and stroke me with fury, stopping only to say, "I want you to come in my mouth, Patrick. I want to feel and taste every last drop of you." And then she swallowed me to my balls again.
It was massive, that's all I can say. In the entire time I had been married to Clarissa she had never swallowed a load of my cum and I barely needed both hands to count the number of times she had ever taken me in her mouth. Shannon couldn't get enough. I partially sat up on my elbows as my cock and balls released their pent up fury into Shannon's mouth. Wave after wave after wave of hot cum rocketed out and into her inviting mouth. It was too much for Shannon and she almost gagged and coughed but released my cock just in time. My cock repeatedly spasmed and continued to shoot out small spurts of cum all over my stomach and the carpet.
I lay there, completely spent. It felt as if the weight of the entire world was lifted each time I got to make love to Shannon. Nothing else in the world mattered. For those fleeting, intense and sensual moments we were a universe of two. She snuggled in next to me and began cuddling me intensely and I wrapped her in both arms. I couldn't pull her close enough or tight enough. I just wanted my body to melt into hers. I felt loved, I felt wanted. But, most of all, I felt safe and I didn't want that feeling to end. I knew right then and there that I was totally in love with her.
"My goodness, Mr. Quinn," Shannon whispered. "You certainly never fail to impress a girl!"
"I aim to please, Miss Sullivan," I replied, stealing a kiss.
We just lay there naked, wrapped in each other's arms for over an hour. I knew Bridget was completely worn out and the thought of getting caught didn't even enter my mind. Shannon had a quilt on the sofa she could grab in a hurry if we heard any little footsteps but, for now, we just enjoyed the feeling of skin-on-skin. My cock and my balls were still heavily covered in our mutual juices and Shannon lay there gently stroking and squeezing my soaked package. The feeling as she did so was exquisite and I was soon sporting another half-hard on that was only about one stroke of my shaft from becoming hard as steel.
"Let's take this into my bedroom, shall we?"
I was only too happy to comply. The sight of her ass in front of me as she crept down the hallway to her bedroom was nothing less than a vision of Heaven itself. We both climbed naked underneath the covers and began making out like teenagers.
An hour later, we had repeated our earlier escapade and again lay in each other's arms, sweaty and completely spent.
It was now just after midnight and I could start to feel the Sand Man start beating me over the head.
"Patrick?" Shannon said. "Can I ask you something?" I got the feeling that she and I had been headed for "a talk" at some point, most probably about what our future together was going to be like.
"Absolutely, hon. You can ask me anything you want."
"What is going to happen when everything between you, your wife and your boss comes to a head?"
"Well," I said, taking a deep breath, "to tell you the truth, I'm not quite sure. At this point it will be a small victory just not to go to jail. Other than that, keeping my job, at least until I can find something else, will probably be my next priority."
"Is there a part of you that wants to take Clarissa back? Even after everything she's done to you?"
Moment of truth. It was all right there in front of me, black and white. There was no shade of gray. A few weeks earlier, before I had really gotten involved with Shannon even a little bit, there was no doubt that I would have done anything I could to save my marriage. My boys, I felt, deserved at least that much. Now, I realized that staying in a marriage just to give my kids some semblance of normalcy would probably appease them in the short term, but would be more damaging to them in the long term.
"Shannon, I want you to know something," I said, looking deeply into her eyes. "I don't know what's going to happen five minutes from now, five hours from now, five days, five weeks or five months from now. And I sure as hell don't know what's going to happen five years from now. The only two things I know at this exact moment are that I'm happy. I'm happy right here and right now. At this point, that is enough for me."
"And the other thing you're sure of? You said there were two."
I kissed her deeply. "The other thing I'm sure of, Shannon Sullivan, is that there is no way in hell that I could even remotely think about taking Clarissa back. Even after I drop the bomb on her and Bud, even when I know for a fact that there will come a day when she begs me to, I will not have her as my wife any more."
"So, where does that leave us?"
"Only you can answer that, Shannon. But I swear to God that I will be in your life as long as you'll have me."
And with that, I was rewarded with another deep and passionate kiss. Shannon and I made love one more time that night before falling into an incredibly deep and peaceful sleep, still wrapped in each other's arms.
I didn't want to but I got up around 6:30 and snuck my way out of the house. Shannon kissed me so many times as I was leaving that I was afraid I wasn't going to get out of the house before Bridget saw me. The sad part was that I didn't want to leave.
But I was now on a mission. I spent Christmas Eve with Nick and Jake and took them out for a nice supper. We attended an early Christmas Mass at St. Matthew's and even got to spend time talking with Shannon and her family afterward although, as usual, Shannon's father Jack didn't have much to say. Then it was back to the house to open presents. We had the house to ourselves that night and I didn't even bother asking Clarissa where she was going. I didn't care. She was going to get the boys all to herself on Christmas Day and spend a few days with Caroline and Martin in the cities. It had been a bit of a kick in the gut when Clarissa hadn't even invited me to spend time with them at her mother's new place in the Twin Cities. But on further reflection, it was obviously for the best.
Normally, I would have spoiled Clarissa pretty good at Christmas but not this year. I took the money I would have spent and added it to the amount I spent on the boys. As a result, I pretty much spoiled them rotten. Clarissa was ticked, nonetheless, and even chastised me for not giving her a gift just to keep up some sort of appearance for the boys. But considering we didn't even spend Christmas Eve together, it was just another sign of how self-centered and bat shit crazy she was becoming. Maybe she had been all along and I just missed it. Love will do that to you.
Knowing that Bud was going to be off work until after the New Year, I set to work really finalizing my plans on protecting myself and getting a fair measure of revenge. I called it 'Operation Bitch Slap'.
I took no small amount of comp time and even called in sick a couple of days around the Holidays while Bud was gone. Not much was happening at work anyway, so I figured I would work from home. I absolutely scoured the home computer while Clarissa was away at her mother's celebrating with the boys. I had all of the information I needed. It was now just a matter of organizing it and prioritizing it to make the best use of the information.
Chris and Tonya were the biggest help in that regard. We scoured through and read thousands of emails and text messages going back almost to the beginning of Bud and Clarissa's affair. The phone records documented nearly 2,000 phone calls between them during the same time frame Bud hadn't called me directly even a fraction of that number during the time we'd been friends or since I'd been working for him as a deputy.
Once we got most of the information sorted through we were able to paint a picture of just exactly what Sheriff Bud Roberts' overall plans for me had been and what he was truly willing to do to get rid of me and obtain possession of my wife and kids in the process.
1.) Elmer Suggs. Bud's intention was to get Elmer to file a much-belated false arrest claim against me and try to get me for some additional security officer brutality, as well. With everything that I had done for Elmer over the last couple of months and the fact that the local Veterans had done everything they could to keep Elmer away from Bud, I felt pretty good that I was in the clear on Elmer and he would now take my side, regardless. MITIGATED.
2.) Fiduciary concerns. As Chief Deputy, a lot of the day-to-day financials of the department were handled by me. Nothing major, really. Most of the expenditures were pretty cut-and-dried. But, although the bills were getting paid, Bud had shuffled over $10,000 of department money from one account to another. There really was no rhyme or reason for it, since all of the bills got paid and there was no actual loss of money. The transactions, using my electronic signature, were simply to make me look suspicious and like I had something to hide. Since some of the bills were paid from accounts they shouldn't have, it did make me look like kind of a fuck up. Fortunately, fixing all of the old transactions was child's play for Tonya and she quickly had all of the transactions reversed and had the electronic records show that all financials were handled from the proper accounts. MITIGATED.

Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 03:19 AM

3.) Embezzlement. Bud Roberts had also shifted an additional $3,000 from the department's incidentals account to an account opened at our local Wells Fargo branch. The incidentals account is basically a fancy name for petty cash but it was an account that still had to be tracked with all receipts. It only receives an allotment of $15,000 a year. The Wells Fargo account, however, was opened in my name, of course. Once again, Tonya was a lifesaver and completely reversed and eliminated the entire transaction. The account was still active in my name, but now carried a zero balance. The only reason the account was left open was because there was actual paperwork that would still show that I had opened the account, regardless of Bud Roberts' attempt at forging my signature. The bank president, a friend of Bud's, and I would have to have a "friendly chat" when this was all over. That was the only way Bud could have opened an account in my name since a department electronic signature would have been useless. But since all transactions are now electronic and digital, there would at least be no trace that money had been transferred from the Sheriff's Department to that account. MITIGATED.

4.) Personnel issues. Although it hadn't been implemented yet, Bud's plan was to coerce some of our female deputies to file sexual harassment claims against me and some of our deputies, raising the specter of having a serious hostile work environment. As a result, I called in the entire department and made every one of them sit through a short-notice class on workplace violence, hostile work environments and sexual harassment. I further explained to all department members that sexual harassment and harassment of any kind would not be tolerated. I then had one-on-one listening sessions with each member of the department. If Bud had been present in the building at the time, it never would have been possible. I made sure that all of the sexual harassment training was documented to further demonstrate that I had a strong commitment to maintaining a harassment-free workplace. All of the females in the department thanked me for holding the training, as did several of the male deputies. I felt we all had a good rapport after that and everyone knew where I stood. MITIGATED.
5.) Property and Evidence. The whole fiasco with moving department property and evidence would have been enough to send me to prison for over eight lifetimes. If it hadn't been for Jeff's confession and Tonya's brilliance, there is no doubt that I would be looking at spending most of the rest of my life in prison. Being a former security officer officer in prison is not a good thing. Former cops don't have a long life span in prison. But in the end, we caught it and all of the evidence was returned and chain-of-custody remained intact. At least, it was intact enough to fool a judge. Or so I hoped. MITIGATED.
There were all manner of other more minor violations Bud had in mind for me. From messing with staff payroll records to fucking up the maintenance records of department vehicles, Bud did his best to make me look like an incompetent jackass who needed to be fired.
Chris, Tonya and I tackled each of these allegations and problems one at a time. By the time Bud returned to work on January 3rd, we had the last loose ends tied up and all departmental records were back to normal, electronic signatures and all.
Through it all Bud's texting and emails to my wife showed brashness that I never would have imagined from him. I used to consider Bud one of my closest friends. But this whole diabolical plan of his was to steal my wife from me and send me to prison for a very, very long time. The fact that he would go to such lengths infuriated me. And the fact that Clarissa would willingly go along with it for an upgrade in personal status broke my heart.
Bud Roberts was dangerous.
Bud Roberts was a maniac.
Bud Roberts needed to go.
And upon reflection of all of those different factors, I came to one conclusion: Sean Patrick Quinn was going to run for Sheriff of Mason County. And Bud Roberts was going to endorse me.
He just didn't know it yet.
Bud Roberts hadn't officially announced his intention to run for re-election as Sheriff of Mason County but everyone knew or assumed that he would. With the New Year behind us, it was only a matter of time before Bud would start ramping up his efforts and formally announce. He already had plans to attend meetings of every local service organization and looking for other venues for speaking engagements to bolster his qualifications for getting re-elected.
But thanks to Chris and Tonya, I now had three binders of hard copies of text messages, emails and phone records that had all been printed out. Additionally, Tonya's efforts at digitally imprinting the IP addresses on all of the emails had worked. In fact, she went above and beyond to add additional storage capacity to Bud's email account and cell phone account to allow for the additional influx of emails that now appeared as if they were originally sent to Clarissa from his office account. Regular texts would have added little to the storage on the account. The extra space was needed for all of the explicit text pictures they sent one another. At least I could comfort myself by having proof that Clarissa was definitely NOT trading up when it came to genitalia.
All of them now appeared to have been sent by Bud Roberts from his department issued phone. It wasn't much of a concern as text messages don't appear on the county's phone statements from Red River Telecom. Tonya never bothered doing the same thing, however, with any phone calls made between Bud and Clarissa, as the actual phone calls would have been documented on actual paper phone bills and receipts.
I now felt extremely confident that I had Bud Roberts and my soon-to-be-ex-wife dead in my sights. All I really had to do was pull the trigger.
I found out from Karen Landingham that Bud Roberts was scheduled to be speaking on the first Monday in February at the noon meeting of the local Red River Falls Jaycees. The Jaycees, or Junior Chamber of Commerce, were the second-largest service organization in Red River Falls and comprised many of the up-and-coming professionals and young entrepreneurs in Red River Falls and the surrounding area. Meetings generally saw attendance of 200 members or more. The largest service organization was the local Lions Club and you can bet that Bud Roberts would get himself scheduled on their speaking docket as well.
The last weekend in January was approaching. I had been really loading up on the time I had been spending with the boys, including going out and spending each evening at the farm before returning to my zero-star accommodations at the Skyline Drive Motel. When I wasn't working or spending time with the boys, I was spending time with Shannon and Bridget, often meeting them for dinner at their house. It wasn't because I was afraid to be seen with them in public but because I didn't want to take a chance of stirring anything up between Shannon and her father. I knew that if Shannon and I kept going with things the way they were that Jack Sullivan was eventually going to want to have a talk with me. He was very old-fashioned that way and I could tell that he was still possessed by an overwhelming need to protect his daughter and granddaughter.
On the last Saturday of the month, I received a surprise invitation from Suzanne Sullivan to attend dinner with her, Jack, Shannon and Bridget at their house that evening. I graciously accepted, even though I was tempted to decline. But I decided I wanted to forge ahead with this.
I arrived at their home at around 5:00 in the afternoon. Their home was located about five miles northwest of Red River Falls and sat on a hill on the family ranch overlooking an absolutely spectacular vista of the Red River valley that literally took one's breath away. The house itself was a custom-built log cabin built to the size and specifications of the most modern McMansion you would see in any suburban subdivision. It was absolutely immaculate and I could tell that Suzanne strived diligently to keep a beautiful home.
Even though it was late January, the days were getting noticeably longer. Shannon and Bridget were already there and Bridget gave me my customary bear hug upon arrival. Shannon and I simply embraced briefly, even though I could sense that both of us wanted to do more right on the spot, such was the building chemistry between us.
"Hello again, Patrick," Jack Sullivan said, extending his hand. His face had zero expression whatsoever.
"Hello Jack," I said cordially. "Thank you for inviting me to dinner."
"Dinner can wait," Jack said. "Before you take off your coat, I wonder if you might walk out to the barn with me and give me a hand with a couple of chores."
Suzanne and Shannon both exchanged 'oh shit' looks with each other. I decided that Jack would respect me more if I simply bucked up and faced him head on.
"Absolutely," I replied. "I'd be delighted to help out."
A huge cattle barn was located about 50 yards away from the house and garage. Jack and I walked the distance without saying a word. There were about 50 head of pregnant cows in that barn and I assisted Jack for about 30 minutes as we unloaded several large round bales of hay and placed them in steel hay feeders for them. The hungry heifers eagerly bit into their meal and Jack and I just watched them silently. As we stood at the gate watching, Jack finally spoke his mind.
"Suzanne and I lost two sons to miscarriages before Shannon was born. Even then, Shannon was a very difficult pregnancy for her. She spent most of the last three months on complete bed rest and the last three weeks actually in the hospital so we wouldn't lose her or the baby."
We walked slowly out of the barn and over to another large area where several massive breeding bulls were kept and were quietly munching through their own meal.
"Shannon being born was extremely hard on Suzanne's body. It just about tore her up. Her doctor told us that Shannon was the last child we would ever have. We got other opinions from other doctors and they all pretty much said the same thing." He turned look at me face-to-face. "Patrick, what I'm trying to tell you is that my daughter and my granddaughter mean more to me than anything else in my life. My wife and I struggled to bring a family into this world. I wasn't there to protect Shannon from that bastard Billy when she needed me. I wasn't there to protect Bridget when she needed me, either.
Suddenly, I could see tears in Jack's eyes. It was clear that his heart was breaking over his own perceived failures as a father and grandfather.
"But," he went on, gritting his teeth, "I swear to God that I will do what ever it takes to protect them now in whatever way I can. So my question for you, Mister Quinn, is what the hell are your intentions with my daughter and granddaughter? I know you're married and have kids of your own. So what the hell is going on between you and Shannon?"
My heart was racing and I was genuinely scared, scared of Jack. Not because he was a physical threat to me but I was afraid of losing his friendship and his respect. For some reason I really, really wanted both. I needed both. I saw him as an authority figure in my life and I needed his respect and admiration.
"My wife Clarissa has been having an affair for over two years with my boss, the Sheriff of Mason County," I said in a monotone voice. Jack's eyebrows arched and his eyes widened. "Furthermore, my boss has been plotting my professional demise in an attempt to eventually remove me by force not only from my job, but from the lives of my children as well. It was all set up by Bud Roberts and my wife, Clarissa, before I even started working for the Sheriff's department. I was just too dumb to figure it out. I just figured that all of the marital problems and emotional distance in my life with Clarissa would eventually work its way out but it hasn't. It finally came to a head last November when I caught them together in my own home, sans clothing, or most of their clothes anyway. Bud and I were supposed to be at a law enforcement conference in Minneapolis for two weeks. But he showed up late and left early so he could spend a few extra days with my wife."
Jack looked away from me, almost in shame. But I continued on.
"I have absolutely no idea what my future holds, Jack. Bud Roberts tried to orchestrate numerous crimes and charges to have me dismissed from the department at some point. The only two things I know for sure are that I'm going to get divorced from my wife. I've already spoken to Father Shane about it and he even agrees that the church will most likely grant me an annulment of my marriage. The only other thing that I'm sure of is that I am hopelessly in love with Shannon and Bridget. And if they will have me as a husband and father, I promise you and God above that I will love them, cherish them and protect them for the rest of my life."
After several moments of silence, Jack finally looked me in the eye once again. "I'm so sorry, Patrick. I had no idea. I can't even imagine what it must be like to have gone through what you did to save that little girl only to have your family abandon you."
"I want you to know something, Jack. When all of this is over with and Clarissa and I are divorced, I have absolutely every intention of asking Shannon to marry me. Will you allow that, Jack? Will you be my father-in-law and allow me the honor of taking your daughter's hand in marriage?"
The stoic look on Jack's face softened and genuine warmth appeared in his eyes. He stood up straight, his chest swelled with pride and he extended his hand. I took it eagerly.
"Patrick it would be an honor, an HONOR, to have you as a member of the family. When the time comes, I can't think of a better son-in-law to have." We embraced warmly and I could literally feel his love and respect flow from his body into mine.
We walked back up to the house for dinner and found Shannon and Suzanne in the huge kitchen while Bridget watched cartoons on the massive TV in the family room. I could see both ladies exhale in relief as it was obvious that Jack was in a much more jovial mood than he had been before our chat.
"Let's eat!" he bellowed and both women exchanged smiles and began bringing food to the table.
As she walked by me Shannon touched me lightly on the shoulder and whispered in my ear, "What the hell was that all about?"
"Later," I said. "Much, much later." Shannon gave me a wry smile and returned to the kitchen to bring out more food.
The meal was amazing, the conversation lively and the family companionship warm and comforting. As we sat there eating dessert afterwards, I couldn't control myself anymore and reached over to Shannon and took her hand in mine. Suzanne stole a quick glance towards Jack who simply returned it with a wink and a smile.
We spent the rest of the afternoon and evening in quiet company enjoying a beautiful fire in the massive stone fireplace in the family room and watched "The Wizard of Oz" and "The Sound of Music", both favorites of Shannon and Bridget. Bridget regaled us all as she sang along with every tune and knew them all by heart. I sat on the love seat with Shannon, my arm dbangd around her. With the ice now broken, there didn't seem to be a need for any more pretenses. Based on his reaction, Jack obviously didn't think so either.
I finally retired from their wonderful home and hospitality around 10 pm. I exchanged warm hugs with both Jack and Suzanne and asked Shannon to walk me to my truck. In the soft moonlight of a cold but calm January night, I kissed Shannon goodnight. I know she was dying to know what Jack and I had talked and again I told her that all would be revealed in good time. Before I left that night there was one final thing I needed to get off my chest.
"I love you, Shannon Elizabeth Sullivan. I love you with all of my heart and I will love you for the rest of your life."
She gasped and the tears started flowing. "I love you, too, Sean Patrick Quinn. So very, very much." We hugged for what seemed like forever but when it was over, seemed so very brief.
I watched her in my rear view mirror as she stood in the driveway watching me until I was out of sight.
As I drove back to the motel I punched in the numbers on my phone and made a call. My boys were at my sister Beth's house for the weekend playing with their cousins, which meant that I knew full well where Clarissa and Bud Roberts were at. I had made it clear to Clarissa that I had no intention of coming anywhere near the farm this weekend and Bud had made it clear to everyone that he would be "out of town" this weekend on county business. Apparently, that county business would include sticking his penis into my whorish wife's cunt. After the fourth ring Bud Roberts finally answered.
"I'm busy," he said.
"Yeah, well you don't sound out of breath right now so I can assume that you're done fucking my soon-to-be-ex-wife for a little while. So you're not that busy that you can't talk for a bit."
"Why do you insist on pissing me off, Patrick?" he sighed.
"Just shut up and listen, Bud. Since I already know where you're at and what you're doing, there isn't any point in pretending. I want you and Clarissa to know it is over. I'm done playing this game. I've resigned myself to the fact that whatever is going to happen is going to happen. All I'm asking for is a chance to sit down with you and Clarissa and work out the details. I should think that we can all be civil long enough to do that, don't you think?"
"Are you drunk or something, Patrick? Because it almost sounds like you're attempting to be reasonable for a change," Bud said with a sarcastic laugh.
"I'm dead serious, Bud. All I'm asking for is a chance to work out a fair arrangement between all of us. As long as you don't try and fuck me over with my job I'll concede that my marriage to Clarissa is over with. I'm doing this out of respect for Clarissa and our boys."
"When do you want to do this?"
"Let's do it tomorrow afternoon, two o'clock, out at the farm. The boys won't be back from my sister's place until supper time. That should give us plenty of time to talk."
"Okay, Patrick. Fair enough. I'll see you then."
"Be sure to give Clarissa a hug and a squeeze for me," I said with a grin.
"I'll do th -- uh, what?" Bud said, confused. I ended the call before he got an answer.
So the big meeting with Clarissa and Bud was set. Everything was falling into place. But there was one more player to invite to the game to make it all complete. I thumbed another number into the phone and punched send. The recipient of my call was none-too-happy.
*********
I arrived out at the farm precisely at two o'clock. My mystery guest had not arrived at this point but I was absolutely certain that he would do whatever he could to make an appearance. His life, as he knew it, and his career depended on it.
I let myself into the house. After all, it was STILL my house. And if everything went according to plan, it would still be my house for many years to come.
Bud Roberts and Clarissa were standing in the living room waiting for me. Bud extended his hand to me and I mustered up the will to shake it.
"Patrick. Glad you could make it. I think I speak for both Clarissa and I when I say that we're both going to be happy to put this all behind us and move forward. Can I get you something to drink?" He and Clarissa were each nursing a glass of wine, no doubt to help take the edge off what we were all expecting to be a tense and unpleasant meeting. My fake chipper attitude as I walked in seemed to help take the edge off a little more.

Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 03:20 AM

"Sure, Bud. Grab me a tumbler from the cupboard next to the microwave along with some ice. Then, look in the bottom of the pantry all the way in the back behind the cleaning supplies. You should see two large bottles of vinegar near the back. Slide those apart and grab the bottle of whiskey behind there."

"Uh, okay," Bud said sheepishly as he heeded my complex request.
I gave Clarissa a completely fabricated smile and she returned one equally as fake. We both stood there in silence as Bud continued to fumble around looking for the bottle of whiskey. I was pretty sure I would know when he found it.
"Holy shit, Patrick!" Yep. He found it. "Is this what I think it is?"
"Yes it is indeed, Bud."
"Johnny Walker Blue! I've looked for this in every liquor store in Red River Falls and can never find it."
"Ah, yes. It was a gift from an old friend." The truth is it was a gift from Caroline and Martin. They had sent it to me and it arrived at the farm shortly after I had met them in Minneapolis. I didn't want to keep it at my shitty motel and decided to hide it in the pantry.
"Why keep it with the cleaning supplies?" Bud asked.
"Simple, Bud. That way I knew Clarissa would never find it!" I couldn't help but chuckle. Even Bud cracked a brief smile but it disappeared quickly as he saw Clarissa did not appreciate my humor. But then again, the bitch never has. "Oh, come on, Clarissa. Even you have to admit that you're not much for house cleaning. Why else do you think we pay Merry Maids $500 to come out here and clean once a month?"
"Uh, if you don't mind, Patrick, I wouldn't mind a taste of that JWB myself," Bud said, fishing for an invitation.
"Oh, mercy no, Bud! You can have my wife but you can't have my Johnny Walker Blue!" I said, genuinely laughing. For some reason it felt good to be able to actually laugh in Clarissa and Bud's presence, even though both of them thought it was because I was accepting my place as the loser in all of this. But the truth was the joke was on them. Soon another guest of this party would be here and the punch line would really be delivered.
I had brought a briefcase with me that I set on the coffee table. I sat down in my old favorite chair and proceeded to pour myself a generous tumbler of the Johnny Walker Blue as Bud watched with envy. I took a long pull from my glass and savored the aged, smooth smoky flavor.
"God DAMN that is some good scotch!" I popped open the briefcase and removed two large three-ring binders full of information.
"What is all of this?" Bud asked.
"We'll get to that in a little bit," I said as I glanced towards the window. My guest should be arriving any moment.
"Well," Bud started, as he and Clarissa sat down on the sofa, "you were the one who wanted to meet with us. What did you want to talk about?"
I set my tumbler of scotch on the coffee table. "Well, Bud and Clarissa, I guess it is obvious that the two of you intend to be together so I thought it was only fitting to have a get together to symbolize that. But first, Bud, I want to ask you one question."
"Okay, Patrick, what is it?"
"Do you love Clarissa?"
Bud looked at Clarissa and then back at me. "Of course I do, Patrick. That's what this is all about."
"Well, then, let me ask you another question. What do you love about her?"
"What is the point of this, Patrick?"
"Simple, Bud. You have been cheating on your wife with my wife. You say that you love her. I want to know what you love about her and why."
Bud stared at me dumbfounded. I already knew the answer. Bud, although he says he loves Clarissa, simply wanted her for a trophy wife. He wanted to trade Margolene for a younger model, perhaps one more daring and uninhibited. And he also wanted to prove his manhood by taking the woman he wanted from another man.
"I love her because she's beautiful and she makes me happy, Patrick."
"Okay, okay," I said, nodding. "That's a start. Physical attraction is definitely important. But I'm talking about a few layers deeper, the person inside. What do you love about her?"
Bud chuckled. "I think I see where you're going with this. You came all the way out here not to be reasonable but to try and prove to Clarissa that you love her more than I do and hoping that hearing your undying love will make her run back to you, is that it?"
"Aw, hell no. Clarissa and I are done for. If we establish nothing else today, we will definitely establish that. I guess the point is, how well do you really know her?"
"Jesus, Pat, I think I know her pretty fucking well! We've all known each other for over twelve years now, ever since you started at the security officer department!"
"What's her favorite color?"
"What?!!!"
"I didn't stutter, Bud. I asked you a simple question. What is Clarissa's favorite color?" Bud just stared at me like a mime. "It's yellow, Bud. Clarissa's favorite color is yellow because she still associates it with the color of the sun and because her bedroom growing up was highlighted with yellow trim, bed sheets, curtains and a yellow floor rug. Yellow makes her happy, Bud."
Bud stood up and walked behind the sofa, shaking his head.
"Do you know what Clarissa's favorite song is?" Bud stood there, looked at Clarissa and then back at me. "It is 'Bittersweet Symphony' by The Verve. It was a song she listened to over and over again after her parents got divorced when she was in high college." I decided to keep pressing ahead with my questions. "Do you know what toy Clarissa always wanted for Christmas but never got until I gave her one a few years ago as a sort of gag gift? It was an Easy Bake Oven. Do you wanna know what her recurring nightmare was as a little girl growing up? Getting eaten alive by a Venus Fly trap after her second grade teacher brought one to college and fed it bugs and raw hamburger. Do you know what Clarissa's most favorite musical group of all time is? Simple. It's the Dave Matthews Band."
I walked over to Bud so I could face him eye-to-eye. "I guess what I'm saying is, Bud, how well do you REALLY know my wife? Because I could go on and on and on with this all day and show you how well I know her, the real Clarissa, the Clarissa that nobody ever gets to see in public. I know for a fact that, for some strange reason, when she was little she wanted to be a bulldozer operator when she grew up because that is what her dad did for a living. I know the real Clarissa, Bud. I loved the real Clarissa for the twelve years we were married and the nearly fifteen years we have been together."
I looked over at Clarissa. She sat on the couch looking away from both Bud and me. There were tears in her eyes and the first several had already streaked down her cheek.
"Are you happy now, Patrick? Does it make you feel like a man to make Clarissa cry?"
"No, Bud. Having the love of my wife is what made me feel like a man. This whole scenario gives me no pride or pleasure, Bud."
"You wanted this meeting, dammit! What did you really come here for today, Patrick?"
"To prove a point."
"And that is?"
"To prove that you really don't love Clarissa. To get Clarissa to see what she has thrown away for the illusion of some power, wanting to be the wife of a big fish in a little pond. I wanted her to see that you don't know the first damned thing about her, that you only wanted her because she already belonged to someone else and that you are only in this because it makes YOU feel like a man to take what belonged to someone else. And finally, I wanted this meeting to put a stop to it all."
"You jackass," Bud retorted. "I thought you just said a little while ago that you were done with Clarissa. You're so fucked up you're talking circles around yourself."
"You're right. I did say exactly that. And I meant every word of it. But I told you and Clarissa several months ago that I was going to put a stop to your affair, somehow, some way. And that happens today. As a matter of fact," I said, as my mystery guest's vehicle pulled into the driveway, "that affair ends right....about.....now!"
I walked over to the front door as my mystery guest hastily jogged up the front steps and I flung the door open wide to greet him with enthusiasm.
"Look, everybody!" I crowed. "If it isn't our old friend the Mason County Attorney, Mr. Marion Lawson!"
"What the hell is he doing here?" Bud demanded.
"I was about to ask you the same thing," Lawson responded. "You never said anything about Bud Roberts being here."
"Please, please. Everyone sit down. All will be revealed, I assure you. Say, Marion, Bud volunteered to play bartender for us this afternoon. Maybe you'd like a little something to take the edge off?"
"Quit fucking around, Pat. You wanted me here for some goddamn reason. Hurry up and get on with it. I've got better things to do with my time than drive out to the sticks and listen to your bullshit."
"Wow. You're not a very gracious guest, Marion. Uh, is it alright if I call you Marion?" Lawson just rolled his eyes. "Anyway, unlike Bud, I was actually going to offer you a sniff of my Johnny Walker Blue, seeing as how you and I are probably going to be working together so closely in the future."
"What the fuck are you babbling about? Bud? Do you have any fucking idea what this is all about?"
"Alright, alright," I conceded. "Social hour is over with. We'll get down to business. Have a seat." I grabbed the binders and handed one binder each to both Bud and Marion. "Gentlemen, what you hold in your hands are nothing less than dynamite and each of you has played a role in lighting the fuse. The binders you see are filled with copies of thousands of emails, text messages and other correspondence between my soon-to-be-ex wife and Sheriff William Roberts. These text messages and emails detail very well the torrid affair that has been taking place between my wife, Clarissa, and the good Sheriff over the last two years."
Bud's face turned beat red and he looked like he was about to have a stroke. Marion was incredulous.
"So? What's the big fucking deal, Quinn?" Lawson asked. "Why should I give a shit about any of this?"
"The big fucking deal, Marion, is that these text messages and emails detail numerous plots and allegations against me that were perpetrated by Sheriff Bud Roberts in an effort to destroy my career, incarcerate me for years to come and cost me my marriage and my relationship with my two sons. These text messages and emails detail plans to have me investigated and charged with financial crimes, false arrests and imprisonments, embezzlement, falsifying records and over eighty counts of tampering with witnesses and evidence. If Bud Roberts had gotten his way, he would have sent me to prison for the rest of my life."
"This is bullshit, Patrick," Bud shouted as he stood. "You are a stupid fucking idiot! You overplayed your hand! I have no idea how you got all of these emails and text messages but they are all bullshit! They'll never stand up in court! Clarissa and I will charge you with invasion of privacy and computer hacking and whatever other charges I can drum up! All of this will go away, ALL OF IT! Judge Prohaski will bury this evidence with a shovel and then bury the shovel! You stole personal information and property from Clarissa and I!"
Marion Lawson was nodding along with everything Bud was saying. "He's right. You'll have to prove how you got that information and I guarantee it will get suppressed immediately if it was obtained without a warrant. Any good lawyer could have that case dismissed before the ink on the subpoena was even dry." But they didn't know the full story yet.
"The only stupid fucking idiot," I calmly replied, "is you two, Bud and Marion. Have a seat. Take a closer look at those emails and text messages."
Bud eyeballed me as he slowly returned to his seat. He picked up the binder again and leafed through the emails and texts. He surely recognized them but there was one big piece of information he hadn't discovered yet.
"Bud, do you know what an IP address is?"
"Of course, dumbass. I know exactly what an IP address is."
"Good. Very good. Then you should know that your Internet Protocol address is assigned to every piece of equipment assigned to any network, no matter whether it is public or private. Basically any computer, smart phone, laptop, tablet or any other device capable of connecting to the internet has an IP address."
"Get to the point, Patrick. You're way beyond pissing me off now!"
"Here, Bud. Take a look at this." I handed him a piece of paper. "This is an interoffice email memo that you shared with all of us at the Sheriff's department as well as other city and county offices. Do you remember sending that out?"
"Yes, Patrick. I remember quite well. What the fuck is your point?"
"Take a look at the bottom of that email. You will agree with me that you sent that email from your county provided computer in your own office at the Sheriff's department, correct?" Bud nodded his agreement, hatred still burning in his eyes. "Excellent. Now, compare the IP address at the bottom of that email with the IP address located at the bottom of the emails you sent back and forth to Clarissa over the last two years."
Bud begrudgingly did as I asked. As he compared one of the emails to Clarissa with the interoffice memo, his eyes widened and his face paled. Frantically, he began flipping through the rest of the binder. Each of the emails in the binder contained the same IP address as the interoffice memo.
"Patrick! Goddamn you! What the fuck did you do?! How the fuck did you do this?! Answer me, God dammit! HOW THE FUCK DID YOU DO THIS???"
"How did he do what? How did he do what?" Marion Lawson begged.
"He fucked me, Marion! He fucked me, that's what! He made it look like all of these emails were sent from my office computer! I never sent one goddamned thing to Clarissa from my office!" Bud was now actively hyperventilating. It was a beautiful sight. Marion Lawson's mouth just opened in shock and awe.
"Oh, but there's more. There's so much more," I said, giddily. "Take a look at the transcripts of all your text messages. Check out the number that they were all sent from."
Bud looked closer and recognized the number as being from his work provided Galaxy smart phone. He just hung his head and was speechless. "There's no way this can be real. There's no fucking way."
"Oh, but it is, Bud. Take a look at the mail feature on your smart phone. Take a look at your text registry. You will find every single email that I printed and placed in this binder in your email's sent file also. You will find every single text message to Clarissa is also in your work phone's text app as well. Go ahead. Check it out."
Sheepishly, Bud took out his phone and looked. He let out an incredulous grunt of bemused irony as he verified that everything I said was true.
"Jesus," Marion Lawson breathed. "I thought you had this whole situation under control, Bud. You assured me that this whole thing was under control, you jackass."
"It was under control, dammit!"
"Apparently not, Bud! Look at you! Quinn's got you by the short and curlies and there's not a goddamned thing you can do about it! Jesus Christ!"
"He's not the only one, Marion," I said sternly. "Go ahead. Check out some of the text messages towards the back of your binder." Marion started to look but then stopped as I continued. "There are over 200 text messages back and forth between you, Bud Roberts and Clarissa detailing your plans and highlights of your sexual escapades."
"You little bastard," Lawson breathed.
"There may not be any material in there, Marion, for me to make a criminal case against you like I can Bud Roberts. But there is enough fodder in there to keep the gossip and rumor mills in the Upper Midwest and Plains going for years to come. You will also likely face a lot of embarrassment and possible punishment from the county supervisors for using your work phone and computer to carry on a sexual relationship with Sheriff Bud Roberts and the wife of his Chief Deputy all behind my back. And your name will be forever linked with the infamous felon named Bud Roberts for the rest of your life. Your career as you know it will be over. You will surely be disbarred. You will never practice law in this state or any other state ever again. You will be a social and professional pariah wherever you go." Lawson turned his head and looked away.
"But you're not as bad off as Bud over here. I have enough material to send him and my soon-to-be-ex-wife to prison for a very, very long time. Hell, Clarissa will be a grandmother by the time she gets out of prison." Clarissa gasped when I said that.
Finally, Bud conceded. "Alright, Patrick. What is it that you want?"
I stood and addressed both Bud and Clarissa. "The first thing that I want is what I already told you I wanted. Actually, it isn't even a want. It is what is most definitely going to happen. You and Clarissa are done. Your affair is over with. There will absolutely be no more contact between the two of you. If I even catch a whiff of any bullshit going on between you two, I will bring the fucking hammer down on you with the fury of God's own thunder! You will both go to jail. You will both do some serious and hard time. Do you understand me?"
"And what if I refuse? How are you going to stop me? What do you think you have to keep me from retaliating? I may not be ready to accept defeat just yet, Patrick."
"I can't tell you how much it gives me pleasure to be able to repeat the same phrase you said to me a few months ago, Bud. But let's just agree that whatever I decide to do is -- INEVITABLE." The look on Bud's face as I regurgitated his own words was priceless. "And you are defeated, Bud. I'm not the only one who has these binders. I'm not the only one who has access to all of this information. We both know I'm no genius. I could never have done all this on my own. There are a number of people who have all this information, too. Good people. People I can trust."
"I'm sure you're not going to tell me, but I'll take a chance anyway," Bud half-heartedly chuckled. "Who?"
"I won't tell you exactly. But I'll give you a hint. Think about someone you may know who is connected rather intimately with someone locally in the computer business."
I could see the wheels turning inside Bud's head. After a few moments, the light bulb turned on. "Chris Hayes," he seethed. "Oh, my God, Patrick. Chris Hayes' dumb cunt of a girlfriend? You're really going to tie your horse to that druggie bitch's wagon? Jesus!"
"She is anything but a dumb bitch, Bud. She dropped out of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology because she was bored. She's so brilliant they couldn't teach her anything anymore. I can see a bright future for her on the side as a consultant with the Sheriff's department."
"What Sheriff in his right fucking mind would hire that fucking pothead as a consultant?"
I paused for dramatic effect. "I would."
"Are you out of your fucking mind?"
"Nope. I'm not, Bud. That brings me to the second condition of my terms. We already discussed the first term that you and Clarissa are to end your affair. The second term is this: You are going to announce Monday at the Jaycees meeting that you have decided not to run for re-election as Mason County Sheriff. Additionally, at a time of my choosing, you are going to announce that you have spoken with me and have talked me into running for Sheriff and that I have your full support and endorsement."
Clarissa, who had been softly crying on her end of the sofa, suddenly perked up when she heard that I intended to become Sheriff. What an opportunistic bitch!
"And along with your endorsement," I continued, "I will also be expecting the full and enthusiastic endorsement of our good County Attorney." Lawson just shook his head and rolled his eyes, not because he didn't think I'd make a good Sheriff, but because he knew that there was no way out of this. I held Bud's literal fate in my hands. But I also held the reputation of Marion Lawson in my hands, which was manifest with his professional fate, as well. I also had another major piece of information on Marion that I wasn't ready to reveal just yet. I'll play that card when the time comes.

Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 03:22 AM

"And if I refuse?" Bud asked. It was pointless. He already knew the damned answer.

"Then I turn over every last shred of evidence to the state Bureau of Criminal Investigation. A massive investigation will take place. Dozens, if not HUNDREDS of criminals will be released because of your tampering with evidence bullshit. You will be brought up on a list of charges as long as my arm and you will be responsible for putting some really bad people, including a few murderers, back on the streets of our community. Furthermore, you will be tried and convicted and spend the bulk of the rest of your life in a men's penitentiary where the kind of sex you want ain't the kind of sex you're gonna get. And the kind of sex you get sure as hell ain't the kind of sex you want. Either way, Bud, you don't come out of this a winner."
"Just fucking do it, Bud," Lawson groaned. "Stick a fork in yourself. You're fucking done! And so am I if we don't do what he wants. Just finish your term, step down and slip quietly back into the woodwork and into a long retirement."
"I'll do whatever you say, Patrick. But why not let Clarissa and I just be together? You already said that you plan on divorcing her, anyway. I swear to God I'll do whatever you want me to do, say whatever you want me to say," Bud pleaded.
"No."
"Why the hell not? You've got me and Lawson by the balls. You've got Clarissa over a barrel, too, for conspiracy. Why not just quit while you're ahead?"
"Jesus, you are a fucking weasel. You and Clarissa aren't going to be together, Bud, because I said you're not. If I even catch so much as a mouse fart of a whisper from you in her direction, I will throw the fucking book at you. I am spiteful enough and vindictive enough over this whole fucking situation that I've had to endure for the last two years that I won't even give you a fucking inch, Bud. Do you understand me? I wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire, Bud. The only thing I'll bring to your funeral won't be flowers, just spit. In other words, I'm not going to let you and Clarissa be together just because I feel like being an asshole and there isn't a goddamn thing you can do about it. Clear enough for ya, Bud?"
Bud stood slowly, slightly hunched. He was no longer the picture of the virile, cowboy, frontier lawman that he was when I arrived earlier this afternoon. He stood and made his way to the front door, paused and said, "You win, Patrick. You win. I'm going home to my wife. I'm so sorry, Clarissa. I'm so fucking sorry." Then he exited my house for the last time, no longer my wife's lover and beginning his days as a lame duck sheriff.
All Clarissa could do was just stand there in total shock, one hand on her mouth trying to stifle a fit of sobbing and another hand on her stomach trying to keep the nausea at bay. She hadn't said a word in twenty minutes, too dumbfounded to even organize a thought.
Marion Lawson grabbed his coat and headed for the door himself. As he started to open the door, he paused as a thought came to him.
"You know, Quinn, the longer you let this go without arresting anyone in this whole fucking mess just makes you look more complicit in it, as well. Have you thought about that? What's to stop me from bringing charges against you in the future for squashing all of this? I mean, sure, Bud Roberts would hang most definitely. But you would have a lot to lose, too," he said with a slight smirk.
My mood and demeanor changed instantly. It was time to throw down my Ace.
"Let me explain something to you, Marion. I'm going to be running for Sheriff. I'm going to win the election this November. And when I become Sheriff of Mason County, the County Attorney can either be a friend or a foe. I can't stop you from choosing to become an enemy of mine but, if you do, you should be aware that I now have some key and often underestimated allies. You saw what I did with Bud Roberts today. So let me ask you a question, Marion? Just exactly how old are some of those girls in the fifteen pictures and five video clips you have stashed in that encrypted file on the c-drive of your home computer?"
"Oh-my-fucking-God," Marion whispered as he turned ghost white.
"When you give me your public endorsement for Sheriff, Marion, I think a very nice write up in the Op-Ed section of the Red River Falls Sunday paper would be just fine," I said with a game show host's smile.
Marion didn't say another word, just nodded and made a beeline for his Lexus.
Turning to my stunned future ex-wife I exclaimed, "Well! That went well! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to head upstairs and take a shit in my own toilet for a change!" My wife hadn't spoken more than a sentence since I arrived at the house. I left her to contemplate her own future in deafening silence.
*********
To say that things changed in my life would be the grossest understatement of the year. True to his word Bud Roberts made his announcement the following morning at the Jaycees meeting that he would not be seeking re-election as Mason County Sheriff. Instead, he regaled the attendees at the luncheon with numerous stories and anecdotes from his years in law enforcement. It was a canned speech that he had delivered numerous times before and was very polished at it. But if there is one thing that Bud Roberts is good at, it is making a speech. And so the crowd ate it up. Reporters from the local TV and radio stations, as well as the newspaper, were on hand expecting an altogether different announcement. But the one they got was still pretty big news and I'm sure the editors were happy.
I had sent Bud and Marion Lawson both text messages that morning stating that I felt it best to wait a week or so before announcing my candidacy. It would also give me some time to see what other candidates might appear out of the woodwork and gave me some time to size up the competition. Several people in the community hinted at the possibility of running for the soon-to-be vacant Sheriff's position. Tom Wellington was a local small businessman who was part of the Citizens and Law Enforcement Coalition. He was a civilian, however, and would have to take a special course in law enforcement within six months of being elected in order to stay on as Sheriff. He wrote and submitted a lot of editorials to the paper and usually wrote about local politics and his thoughts on the matter. I didn't really see him as much of a challenge.
Another person of interest was Amy Van Deeken, who was a Deputy on the department. She felt it was time for a woman to have a shot at becoming the top law enforcement officer in the county. To be honest, I really like Amy. She is a good Deputy but only has about five years of experience. But she is regarded as an up-and-comer, has a good head on her shoulders and has some ideas that are definitely worth consideration. In truth, she might actually have made a good candidate.
The only other serious threat, of course, came from Pete Sturgeon at the Red River Falls security officer Department. I knew Pete would have it out for me if he became Sheriff and I could probably kiss my position as Captain and Chief Deputy goodbye if he got elected. But with all the notoriety and good will I had achieved from the public after dealing with Bridget's kidnapping and the hostage situation with Amber Rigby, I knew that I would pretty much blow Pete Sturgeon out of the water.
Apparently, Pete knew it, too. I announced my candidacy for Sheriff at a small press conference one week later. Shortly afterward, both Pete Sturgeon and Amy Van Deeken announced that they would no longer be seeking election as Mason County Sheriff. The upside to that was that it gave me the chance to ask Amy Van Deeken to be a part of my campaign and learn the ins and outs of running for office. Even though the move potentially set me up for a strong challenge from Amy in a future election, Amy eagerly accepted and proved to be one of the smartest moves I would make in the campaign.
So that left just me and Tom Wellington as the only remaining candidates for Sheriff.
Bud Roberts and Marion Lawson both reaffirmed their commitment to give me a glowing endorsement. But then again, what else were they gonna do? I had Bud Roberts dead to rights for a million things and I had Marion Lawson by the balls on a potential child porn case.
Out of everything that Tonya had done for me over the last couple of months, the Marion Lawson set up was the piece de resistance, a total masterpiece. Tonya, true to her abilities, was able to scan Marion's home computer by retracing an email that had been sent to me on a case we were both involved with that was coming up for trial. The email had been sent from his home. It was nothing short of a gift from God that Tonya was able to find the hidden encrypted file on Marion's hard drive. Doubtful that Marion's wife, Stacy, ever used his home computer.
It was one thing to know that the underage porn pics and video clips were on his computer. But what Tonya did was to take things a step further. All Marion would have had to do was destroy the computer and the evidence disappeared.
Tonya took the photos and video clips and was able to embed them in pictures of Marion Lawson and his family. Someone viewing the pics would never know they were there. But the FBI knows how to look for those things, if they were given a tip or probable cause. Tonya then posted those pictures in an online photo album on Lawson's Facebook page as well as a Microsoft cloud account that was set up under his name but one he didn't have access to. It was all routed to look like it was set up from his home computer. To a regular viewer, it was just family pictures. To a forensic computer analyst, it was pictures and video clips of young girls between the ages of 14 and 17 engaging in all manner of sexual acts with older men. If any of it was discovered, Lawson could reasonably expect to spend 10 to 20 years in a federal prison.
So all I could do was stand back, yet again, and admire Tonya's handiwork. That woman was something else. If all she wanted for recompense was a threesome with me and Chris Hayes, I might just have to sacrifice myself and give in -- because that's just the kind of guy I am. I put the needs of others before my own!
In all seriousness, though, the biggest changes in my life occurred at home. I never once promised Clarissa that I would take her back, never even hinted at the possibility that we would try and stay together. With her dream of becoming the next Mrs. William "Bud" Roberts now lying in ruin, Clarissa put all of her efforts into being the best Mrs. Sean Patrick Quinn that she possibly could. She literally became the epitome of a Stepford wife, even though I never asked her to. Our house became spotless, a big breakfast was always ready in the morning and a family meal was always ready to eat every night at precisely six o'clock.
Needless to say, I had immediately moved all of my stuff out of the Skyline Drive Motel and back out to the farm. I didn't move back into the master bedroom, however, and opted to sleep at night in the guest bedroom. I did make it a point to buy a completely new set of sheets, pillows, mattress and box spring.
To the boys, the transition to me being back at home was a very welcome one and they didn't seem to notice or care that I wasn't sleeping in the same room as their mother.
Clarissa and I spoke very little but we were extremely cordial with one another. I never once raised my voice to her, gave her an overt or implied threat and never even came close to raising my hand against her. We exchanged idle chit chat but very little more.
With the campaign in full swing throughout the rest of the spring and into the summer, I was kept very busy with both work and the campaign. Even Shannon, Bridget, Jack and Suzanne all pitched in and helped out whenever they could.
True to their word both Bud Roberts and Marion Lawson gave me glowing endorsements, in the local paper and in TV and radio interviews. The editorial board of the newspaper gave me their endorsement over Tom Wellington and, soon, more and more endorsements from the local movers and shakers jumped on the Sheriff Pat Quinn bandwagon.
I still made time to see Shannon whenever I could. Often times, it was on a Friday or Saturday evening and I gave Clarissa the excuse that I had campaign business to take care of. Much of the time I did, in fact, have campaign events or fundraisers to attend and would sneak off to see Shannon and Bridget afterwards. Shannon understood the need for discretion and never once complained about it. There just seemed to be an understanding between us that our lives' paths were both headed in the same direction and there never seemed to be any doubt in Shannon's mind about that. Our lovemaking sessions were still just as incredible and fulfilling as that first one on her living room sofa. The emotional and physical chemistry were perfect and I grew to need her just as much as I needed air to breathe.
The closer the election neared, Clarissa actually started attending some of the fundraisers and events. She didn't try to take a lead role or become overly involved but she did make sure that everyone knew that she was my wife, as if to make sure everyone knew that she would soon be the wife of the Mason County Sheriff. A small part of her was still deluded enough to think that her dream of being the wife of someone important could still come true.
It happened late one Saturday night in September. My boys were away for the weekend at my sister Beth's to spend time with their cousins. I had gotten home late that night after another campaign event. Shannon had to work an overnight shift at the request of a co-worker who needed some sudden time off. It was almost eleven o'clock and I had assumed that Clarissa had just gone to bed as usual. So I jumped in the shower and then headed straight to bed.
I was nearly asleep when I heard the floorboards outside the guest bedroom door creak and alerted me to someone's presence. The door slowly opened and Clarissa's figure was back lit in the doorway from the light of the master bedroom. She wore a thin, see-thru nightgown and I could tell she wasn't wearing any panties. To any normal man, she would have been an amazing sight to see creeping into their bedroom late at night. To me, she was still Bud Roberts' whore.
"Patrick," she whispered. "Are you still awake?"
"Yes, unfortunately," I groaned, rolling over and away from her. "Whatever it is that you want, can it wait until morning?"
"I want to talk to you, Patrick. I need to talk about us."
"Jesus. You seriously want to have a heart-to-heart talk now? I just got home, showered and into bed. I'm dog-ass tired, Clarissa. Let's just do this in the morning."
She sat down on the bed and put her hand on my right arm. "I want you to come to bed with me, Patrick. It has been a long time, now. Everything is in the past now. I'm ready to look forward to our future, Patrick. And I want to start that future with you making love to me."
"I can't."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I can't."
"You can't what? Make love to me? Are you sick or something? Are you not feeling well or just too tired?"
Frustrated and exhausted, I rolled over and let out a big sigh. "I mean, Clarissa, that I can't make love to you because in order to make love to someone you actually have to love that someone. I don't love you anymore, Clarissa. All that went away when I found out that you were fucking Bud Roberts."
"I know you still love me, Patrick. I know that somewhere deep down inside, you still love me. I'm the mother of your two children. That has to count for something. Just come to bed with me. I'll show you."
It was no use. I could tell she was still deluded and still in the fog that the entire world revolved around her. For the past nearly seven months since I torpedoed her and Bud Roberts' affair she has seemed to take the relative calm and cooperation around the house as me wanting to eventually work things out with her. She actually thought that she could try and save our marriage and, yet, she thought I was the one who would have to come to her to fix it. The only way to get this through her head was to be an asshole about it.
"I have absolutely no interest, whatsoever, in going to bed with you, Clarissa. I have absolutely no sexual interest in you anymore and I have absolutely no desire to stick my penis somewhere that Bud Roberts has been sticking his. You willingly gave your pussy to Bud Roberts and I relinquish any claim on it from here on out."
"Please, Patrick! I'm fighting for our family here. I wish that you would fight for your family, too. I want things to be the way they were. I want back the man that I fell in love with."
"Well, according to you and Bud, the two of you fell in love with each other. And, for your information, I fought like hell to make things better between us for over two years while you were out fucking Bud Roberts behind my back, letting him whore you out to his friends. And then, a year ago when I got shot, where the hell were you then? What exactly were you doing the day I almost got killed? Huh?"
"I know I wasn't there for you right away, Patrick. But I'm trying to make an effort. Can't you see that? Look what I've done for you the past few months. I've done everything you asked me to. I've tried to be a good wife and mother. Doesn't that count? I've even been using my medication for my low testosterone problem to make myself desire you more. Doesn't that count?"
"Why did it take Bud Roberts for you to finally come around with that? Why wasn't I good enough for you to make you want to do that for me? ME! The father of your children?"
"Patrick, none of that matters. What matters is that I'm here right now. What matters is that I want to fix our marriage, move on with our lives and forget everything that happened over the last couple of years. We can fix this, Patrick! I know we can! I'm just asking you to give me a chance!"
"No, Clarissa. We can't. There is no fixing this. You just want this to go away because that will make YOU feel better. You have hurt me. You have humiliated me. You have given away what was rightfully mine to another man and you did it for two fucking years. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? Any fucking idea at all?"
"Just give me a chance, Patrick. Come to bed with me. I promise you I can make you forget about everything that happened, Patrick. I will give my body completely to you, Patrick. I will make absolutely every single one of your fantasies come true. I'm ready to do that now, Patrick. I wasn't before but I am now. Just give me a chance. Please!"
I stood there staring at her form in that sheer night gown. My God, but she was beautiful. I had to give her that. She wanted to have sex, something I literally had to damned near get down on my hands and knees and beg for over the last two years plus. And now, when I was planning to divorce her after the election and with her future life with Bud Roberts completely torn to shreds, NOW she finally desired me and wanted me sexually. My breathing quickened and my pulse began to race as I suddenly became filled with a building rage, a rage that I had to take out on someone or some thing. And the only thing I could do was to take it out on Clarissa. I wanted her to hurt. I wanted her to feel despair. I wanted her to feel used and cheated. I wanted her to feel the physical pain that I had to endure when I was shot and the emotional pain I had to endure when she abandoned me. But most of all, I wanted to humiliate her and shame her the way she had done to me. I wanted to take her natural beauty and destroy it.
"Clarissa," I asked deviously, "let me ask you a question. And I demand your complete honesty." I started to slowly and menacingly walk towards her. "In all of the times that you had sex with Bud or any of his friends, did any of them have your ass?"

Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 03:23 AM

"What?"

"You heard me. In all the times you had sex with Bud Roberts or any of his friends or acquaintances, did any of them shove their penis into your ass?"
"God, no! You know I would never do that! I'd never let anyone do that! That's disgusting!"
"Good," I said. "That means you're still a virgin back there. If you want any hope, whatsoever, of saving our marriage, then I demand to have sexual rights to fuck you in the ass."
"God, Patrick! Are you insane?" she asked, backing away from me.
"Aw, too bad," I said, feigning disappointment. "And to think that I thought you were actually serious about saving our marriage."
"I am serious, Patrick! I want you to make love to me, not perform some degrading act from a bad porn movie."
"You said a little bit ago that you were going to give yourself to me, that you would do anything to make my fantasies come true. And one of my fantasies has always been for you to let me have your ass." I was actually enjoying seeing her squirm, wondering how far she would take it.
"I...I....I don't know, Patrick. I mean, why can't we just make love?"
"Because I am testing your resolve, Clarissa. I want to see whether you are really as committed to saving this marriage as you say you are."
"So, if I let you do this, then you promise you won't leave me?"
"No. But I promise you that if you DON'T let me fuck you in the ass, that I most definitely WILL divorce you."
"That's not much of a choice, Patrick."
"Seems to me it's a helluva choice, Clarissa. More than that, it is a defining moment. You either define the moment or the moment defines you. What is it going to be? Are you going to take a chance on possibly saving your marriage by giving up a bit of humility? Or are you going to give up your marriage by saving your humility?"
She just stood there, frozen, and contemplating her options.
"Good night, Clarissa," I finally said after several minutes of silence. "Do me a favor and close the door on your way out."
"Alright!" she stammered. "Alright, Patrick. I'll do what you want me to do. I'll let you have what you want. Just promise me that you won't hurt me."
Damn, I thought. She actually caved. This might be more fun that I thought.
"I'll only promise you that I won't intentionally hurt you," I lied.
I followed her from the guest room and back into the master bedroom that I hadn't slept in for nearly a year now. Clarissa stood near the foot of the bed and I pulled the straps of the nightgown over the edges of her shoulders and the gown floated to the floor, leaving her standing there nude. There was only the light of a single reading lamp to illuminate the room and gave everything a soft glow. I had to admit that standing naked in front of me Clarissa was the vision of a very beautiful woman who was in terrific shape still, even after two kids. Her ass was still very toned, no doubt from her biking and hiking along the various trails around Red River Falls.
"What do you want me to do," she whispered.
"On the bed, on all fours. It will be the easiest and most comfortable for you, I think." The thought of what I was about to do was causing my cock to spring to life, especially as I stared at her peach of an ass as she crawled on the bed obediently. It felt good to have that kind of control over her after being denied any for so long. "You had some personal lubricant before, Clarissa. Where is it?"
"Bottom drawer of my night stand, it's in a small red bottle," she said, without looking back.
I removed my shorts and was now naked, my cock becoming more rigid by the second. I found the bottle of lubricant where she said it was and poured a generous amount in my hand and began stroking myself, savoring the feel of the sensations of stroking with the lubricant. Clarissa let out a small whimper, probably of humiliation, as I poured another glob of the lube right at the top of her ass crack and watched it run down and drip off her pussy lips and onto the sheets. I stroked myself with one hand and then began to stroke her freshly lubed pussy. Clarissa closed her eyes and threw her head back as she welcomed the sensation of having her sex toyed with. Soon, her natural lubricants began to flow feely and mix with the artificial. I could feel her body being to tremble, particularly as the tips of my fingers swirled around her swelling clit.
I even inserted my thumb into her pussy and was surprised at how tight it was. I knew from pictures that Bud was not an overly large many by any means. Plus, Clarissa had not had sex for over half a year now and things seemed to have tightened up down there quite a bit. Clarissa began to rock back and forth on my thumb and gently rocked herself to a gentle orgasm, the first time I can remember giving my wife an orgasm in....like...forever. The thought in and of itself irritated me and I decided that was enough of that!
I removed my thumb and poured a little more lubricant over her ass. I rubbed the lubricant all over her ass cheeks, which she also seemed to enjoy. I then slid my greasy fingers inside her ass cheeks and began sliding up and down the length of her ass crack, being sure to lube up her sphincter. After a few minutes of this, I gently inserted the tip of my index finger just inside her sphincter, eliciting a sharp whimper from Clarissa. I slowly pressed my finger forward into her tiny asshole.
"Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" she whispered. "Oh, I hate this! This is so gross!" She was whispering and starting to cry at the same time.
"I guess we could quit any time it becomes too much for you," I said calmly. She just shook her head no. "May I continue then?" She nodded, covering her eyes with one hand and bracing herself with the other in a doggie position. By the time I inserted a second lubed finger in her ass, she was doing her best to stifle the sobs but was actively crying.
I then pulled both of her ass checks apart and began rubbing the entire length of my shaft back and forth across the length of her ass crack, pausing menacingly at times with the tip of my rigid cock resting on her sphincter, ready to plunder her anally at any time. I chuckled as I wondered whether she would possess enough sphincter tone when it was all over with to contain the massive amount of semen that I would inject in there.
The whole picture was beautiful to behold. My lubed and throbbing cock was poised at the entrance to her remaining virgin territory; mine to do with as I pleased. Her body was shaking from her sobs and the terror and fear was quickly overtaking her. I began to wonder whether the delicate skin lining her rectum would be able to withstand my assault or whether it would tear to shreds. For a moment I wondered if I even cared.
Slowly I inched forward pressing the apple-shaped head of my cock past her taut and tiny sphincter until it was no longer visible. Clarissa could no longer contain herself. She was sobbing uncontrollably. She was about to experience it all -- the hurt, the anger, the frustration, the physical and emotional pain, the abject humiliation -- two years' worth of it was going to be transferred from me to her. I was going to own her, I was going to possess her. I was going to absolutely tear her down and leave her a devastated mess. I could see the muscle of her sphincter desperately flexing and releasing in a last ditch attempt to repel this anal invasion. Everything I thought I wanted I literally had right in front of me. This was my moment!
And then, just like that, it happened. There was nothing to even remind me. The thought just popped into my head out of nowhere. Shannon. All of a sudden the rage disappeared. Everything I thought I wanted to do to Clarissa disappeared. The overwhelming desire to reciprocate every evil done to me had vanished. A wave of calm and serenity washed over me and I slowly backed away, pulling my swollen cock head out of her puckered little hole.
Clarissa had apparently expected the worst, thinking I was only pulling out so that I could brutally ravage her in the most savage manner possible. Instead, I got off the bed, reached down and grabbed my boxer shorts. Just as quickly as it had appeared, my penis became calm and flaccid.
I knew that if I brutalized Clarissa this way that I was absolutely no better than her. She and Bud had gone out of their way to hurt me and humiliate me in every way possible for over two years during their affair. If there was one thing that I could take away from all of this, it was in knowing that I had kept my promise to never intentionally hurt her in any way - even after all the lies, the cheating and the endless amounts of betrayal.
Clarissa rolled over and sat on the bed, wiping the tears from her eyes. "What's wrong? Why did you stop? I thought this was what you wanted?"
"I did too," I said. "But what I want more than anything else is to be able to look my boys in the eyes and say that I never did anything to intentionally hurt their mother. If I do this, I won't be able to say that, ever. I'm sorry, Clarissa. For everything. I know you probably wanted to make this work and make this all go away. But until you're genuinely sorry, it just isn't going to happen. And the only thing you're ever going to be sorry for is getting caught and having what you wanted most taken from your grasp. You don't want me. I'm not even sure you wanted Bud. What I think you wanted most was some kind of status. And I need more than that. After everything I've been through over the last few years, I deserve that." And with that, I turned and walked back down the hallway to the guest room and closed and locked the door behind me.
I could hear Clarissa break down into uncontrollable sobbing. "I'm sorry," she wailed. "I'm so fucking sorry!" It went on for more than an hour before she finally sobbed herself to sleep.
EPILOGUE
"So help you God?"
"So help me God," I replied, enthusiastically shaking Judge Chester Prohaski's hand.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my distinct privilege to present to you the new Sheriff of Mason County, Sheriff Sean Patrick Quinn, Junior." And with that announcement, the room burst into applause.
The Master of Ceremonies for my swearing in ceremony was Jude Palmer, one of the five Mason County Supervisors. "At this time, I would like to invite our new Sheriff to come to the podium. Sheriff Quinn has a few words he would like to share with us." Again, the room burst into applause.
There were nearly 300 people packed into the all-purpose room, which was a ridiculous crowd for a swearing-in ceremony. As I took to the podium I scanned the room and waved to my boys who were standing with my sister Beth and her family to my right. I cast a wink and a smile to Shannon and Bridget who were standing near the back with Jack and Suzanne.
"Ladies and gentlemen," I began, "as my first official act as Sheriff of Mason County, I would like to officially recognize my predecessor, retiring Sheriff William "Bud" Roberts, for his 32 years of service in law enforcement to the community of Red River Falls and as Mason County Sheriff." Again, the perfunctory applause came from the guests, which included every member of the Sheriff's Department. "Bud? Would you please join me up here for a moment?"
Bewildered, Bud made his way to the podium and I held up a large item. "In recognition of Bud's terms as Sheriff, we would like to present him with a token of appreciation on behalf of the men and women of the Mason County Sheriff's Department. Bud, I would like to present this beautiful custom hardwood shadow box to you containing an American flag, the seal of Mason County, a Mason County Sheriff's badge, your old Red River Falls security officer Department Lieutenant badge and a small plaque highlighting your many years of dedicated service. On behalf of all of us here and on behalf of the people of Red River Falls and Mason County, I want to thank you for your outstanding service." I reached forth and shook Bud's hand, giving him the shadow box.
I could see that Bud was genuinely moved and surprised by the gift. In truth, I paid for the gift myself even though I said it was from the department. I figured it was a little token to help soothe his feathers a bit and may go a ways towards keeping the peace in the future.
"Wow, Patrick. I'm... I'm really touched. I...I don't really know what to say. Thank you very much. It is beautiful."
"One more round of applause for our outgoing Sheriff," I entreated and the room filled with clapping once again.
"I also want to invite everyone downstairs afterwards to our large classroom where there will be cake, punch and coffee served for a retirement reception in Bud's honor." Again, the gesture took Bud by surprise and he seemed genuinely moved.
"Before I let everyone go enjoy the cake and refreshments, I do have a small amount of business to take care of and wanted to make a few announcements that you will all find of interest." Once Bud had accepted his fate and made his endorsement of me, he literally became an absentee Sheriff. We hardly ever saw him and he spent most of his time away at conferences or anything else he could do to get out of the office, as well as burn up a considerable amount of bogus comp time, vacation and sick leave. All of it was good for me as everyone eventually came to seeing me as the leader of the department anyway. I doubt I could have gotten away with murder but I could have made it damned hard to catch me. There were a few more retirements during the summer but Bud was gone so much and had failed to make the necessary appointments and promotions. Going from Deputy to Sergeant and or Lieutenants were both promotions that will allow the person to remain a part of the union and were appointments I could make without much hassle. Appointing a Captain and Chief Deputy, however, was a different story. The citizen advisory board had done the interviews and candidate screening for years and was an institution in Mason County and Red River Falls when it came to major hirings in the city and county.
But according to county and state policy, the use of a citizen advisory board for the promotion of Chief Deputy and Captain was only a customary procedure or recommendation and had been for years. A little research on my part revealed that it was not, in fact, a requirement of the county or state and was ultimately the discretion of the Sheriff.
"As many of you know, we have had a number of personnel in our department who have chosen to move on to much-deserved retirements over the past few months. We recently underwent some changes in how we manage our combined property and evidence room. Jeff McCauley recently elected to leave that position and take a position as food-service supervisor for the Mason County Department of Corrections. With the recent retirement of Burt Fielding, our head jailer for the MCDOC, I have made the decision to combine the position of Property and Evidence Supervisor with that of the head jailer's position. That combined position will now be a Lieutenant's position within the Mason County Sheriff's department and I have allocated some discretionary funds to perform the necessary renovations that will create a larger office space to accommodate that position. And so my first appointment as Sheriff of Mason County will be to appoint Deputy Amy Van Deeken to that position." Once again, the room broke out into applause as Amy came forward to shake my hand. She was absolutely beaming from ear to ear. I had no doubt she would perform the duties flawlessly. "As an added benefit, by the way, combining the two positions will save the tax payers of Mason County over $30,000 annually." Again, more applause.
"Next, our department currently has two Sergeant's positions open, one on the day shift that was vacated by the retirement of Chuck Waterston and one on the evening shift that was vacated by Erland Barrington. As such, it is my pleasure to announce the promotion of Deputy Danny Larson to the day shift Sergeant's position and the promotion of Angel Ryerson to the Sergeant's position on the evening shift." As the room broke out in another round of applause both Danny and Angel stepped forward to shake my hand.
"My next appointment is an extremely important one. With the transition in full swing here I felt it was imperative to move quickly on selecting a replacement for my previous position as Chief Deputy and Captain. The decision was not made lightly and I pored over the many previous applications that were submitted at the time I was selected. As it has been less than eighteen months since the applications were sent in, they were all still valid by county and state standards. Every single one of them came from outstanding individuals and we would be well-served to work with any of them. But in the end, one person stood out head-and-shoulders above the rest. He is someone I have come to know and trust and someone who is well-liked, respected and trusted by every member of this department. And so, without further delay, I am proud to announce that I have selected Lieutenant Benito "Ben" Villanueva to fill the position of Captain and Chief Deputy for the Mason County Sheriff's Department." The room broke out in to vigorous applause yet again as Ben came forward and the look of surprise on his wife's face and that of his children was awesome. Ben and I shook hands warmly. "I'm counting on you to be my right hand, Ben."
"I won't let you down, Sheriff. I promise." The look in our eyes told the other that we had each other's undying trust and loyalty. I wouldn't be sharing with anyone that Ben never actually applied for the position the last time but somehow miraculously came to have an application on file now. But I figured Tonya would be more than willing to help me out with that if anyone tried to make it a problem for me.
As the applause died down, I turned back toward the microphone. "And finally, with the appointment of Ben Villanueva to Captain and Chief Deputy, his former position as day shift Lieutenant and supervisor is now vacated. The person I have chosen for the Lieutenant's position is someone with over twelve years of service and experience with our department and holds two Bachelor's degrees from North Dakota State University in criminology and psychology, as well as having completed a six-month residence course at the Federal Law Enforcement Academy at Brunswick, Georgia with an emphasis on criminal and forensic investigation. And so, it is my pleasure to appoint Deputy Christopher Hayes to the position of day shift Lieutenant and Supervisor. Chris, come on up here." Once again, the room broke out into applause as Chris came forward and shook my hand.
"Jesus," he said. "I believe you now when you say you return favors. I wasn't expecting this."
"Well, deserved," I said as the applause continued. "Check your department mailbox, too. There's an envelope in there for you and Tonya with a couple of plane tickets to Vegas. I traded in all of my frequent flyer miles and got a pair of unrestricted tickets. There's also a voucher in there for three nights of a 'comped' room at the Bellagio. Take that girl of yours down there for a few days and bring her back an honest woman, ya hear?"
Chris chuckled. "I'll do that, Sheriff. I'll definitely do that." Chris returned to his seat near the back of the hall.
"I want to thank you all for coming today and for bearing with me a little while to take care of some early business. It is an honor for me to have the opportunity to serve as your Sheriff and I ask for all of your thoughts and prayers as I attempt to lead this department in a manner that is befitting of the men and women who protect our citizens and in a manner that the citizens of this county deserve. Take care, God Bless you all and may God Bless and protect our fine men and women of the Mason County Sheriff's Department." And with those words, the room broke out into applause for the final time.

Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 03:25 AM

Jude Palmer took the microphone for one final time and dismissed the assembled guests. They quickly disbursed and headed downstairs for Bud Roberts' retirement reception. Before he could get away, I called Chris Hayes back towards the podium.

"Hey, Chris! Got a second?"
"Sure thing, Sheriff. What do you need?"
"One of my last acts as Chief Deputy was to prepare a final notice to be served. And one of your duties as Lieutenant now is to serve those notices and warrants when necessary. And so, as your first official act as a Lieutenant on the Mason County Sheriff's Department, I am assigning you to officially serve this notice. Think you can handle that?"
Chris took a moment to open the manila envelope and briefly gazed at the title page of the notice.
PETITION FOR DIVORCE
Sean Patrick Quinn, Jr., Plaintiff
Vs
Clarissa Marie Quinn, Defendant
Chris broke out into a huge smile. "I think I can handle that, Sheriff. Consider it done."
"Atta boy," I said, patting him on the back. And with that Lieutenant Christopher Hayes took the first steps towards my impending divorce.
I headed downstairs towards the reception for Bud Roberts, shaking hands with attendees, deputies and well-wishers along the way. I wouldn't see Shannon and her family again until tonight when I would meet them out at the ranch for a private celebration, followed by what I hoped would be some more "celebrating" at Shannon's later that night. It was my intent to show up for dinner tonight as her lover and leave there as her fiancé. My right hand reached in my pocket and made sure that the small ring box was still there.
As I entered the reception room for Bud's retirement party he glanced over at me and our eyes locked with one another. My own eyes narrowed and I had a smirk on my face, which did little to hide my obvious contempt for the man. Bud knew it, too, and gave me a sheepish wave, a smile and nod of his head.
That's right you son-of-a-bitch.
Get used to it.
There's a new Sheriff in town!!!
The End

Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 02:43 PM

Clarissa Gets Served

It was Friday afternoon, 16:00. Or, if you prefer, 4 o'clock pm for those who are not familiar with military time, which is what we use in law enforcement. Things around any government office seem to be fairly calm at that time of the day on a Friday and our offices at the Mason County Sheriff's Department were no exception.

Shift change had come and gone at 3 pm and most of the staff who worked regular office hours had bugged out early, burning up a little unused comp time to do so. My Captain and Chief Deputy, Benito "Ben" Villanueva had left at noon that day so he could take his family on a mini-vacation to the Twin Cities for the weekend.
As for me, I was anxiously awaiting the return of my day shift Lieutenant, Deputy Christopher Hayes to return from an important assignment that I had given him earlier in the week.
My name is Sean Patrick Quinn, Jr. But everyone calls me Pat. I am the newly-elected and sworn Sheriff of Mason County. This particular day ended my first official week of office since I was sworn in last Monday morning. I had given Chris Hayes the assignment just after my swearing in ceremony and initially planned to have him execute that assignment later that day. But I had a change of heart and decided to have him wait until this afternoon to carry it out.
Part of the duties of Lieutenants is to serve warrants, notices and official papers to individuals when requested to do so. It costs members of the general public $80 to have the Sheriff's Office serve official papers. For me, it was money well spent. And so, I had given my good Lieutenant the task of serving my soon-to-be-ex-wife, Clarissa, with divorce papers this afternoon. Hence, I was sitting in my office eagerly awaiting his arrival to see how it went.
At approximately 16:03 a very pissed off Lieutenant Chris Hayes blew into my office.
"The next time you decide to get divorced, Pat, you can serve the bitch those goddamned papers yourself!"
"I take it the process serving didn't go so well?" I chuckled.
"Look at me, Pat," Chris said, gesturing to the right side of his face. The entire cheek and right ear were beat red. "That stupid bitch slapped me right across the face!"
"She WHAT?" I couldn't believe what I just heard.
"I didn't stutter. I served her the damned papers and she fucking slapped me right across the face!"
"Oh, my God!" I burst out laughing. "That is the most fantastic thing I have ever heard! Please, for the love of God, tell me you are not joking!"
"Hell no, I'm not joking," he said, taking a seat in front of my desk. "She came to the door and I politely asked her if she was Clarissa Marie Quinn. She said yes. I said, 'Clarissa Marie Quinn, you have been served'. She totally freaked the fuck out, got into a big argument with me, started bawling her damned head off and finished it off with a fucking haymaker right across my right cheek and ear. You know how damned bad it hurts to get slapped on the fucking ear, Pat? It hurts like a bitch! Even when it's from a woman, for Christ's sake!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I said, trying to stop myself from laughing. "I'm not laughing about you getting slapped. I'm laughing at that stupid twat for losing her cool like that." Then, the ultimate thought occurred to me. "Oh, my God! Please, please, please, for the love of God, tell me that you were wearing your lapel camera when all of this was going on! Please tell me you were smart enough to have it on when all of this went down!"
"What? The lapel cam? Of course, I had it on! How stupid do y-...ohhhhh, riiiiiight! I get it!" Now Chris understood.
This past Summer and Fall I had basically served as interim Sheriff while my predecessor, William "Bud" Roberts, was a lame duck and absentee Sheriff. So, not only was I running a campaign to succeed Bud as Sheriff, but I was also running the day-to-day operations of the entire department. One of the best moves I made was using some seized and forfeited narcotics money to purchase Wolfcam body cameras for every Deputy in the department. The cameras were attached to the shoulder lapels of the uniform and provided high definition 1080p resolution video and crystal clear audio that recorded any type of event the deputy might encounter.
The video was recorded via a blue tooth feed to the onboard video recorder that also recorded video and audio from the deputy's cruiser's dash camera. Every department that has implemented the use of these cameras has seen a massive drop in the number of complaints filed by citizens of the public who try to accuse us of harassment or excessive use of force. Actually, the complaints were still filed but usually withdrawn once the perps or their families saw the video of the event.
The cameras were only about half the size of the palm of your hand. My deputies initially had mixed emotions about the cameras. On the one hand, they kind of felt like Big Brother was keeping an eye on them. But already the video had corroborated no less than six of my deputies' accounts of various incidents that had resulted in complaints from citizens. All six complaints were withdrawn when the parties (and their attorneys, of course) had a chance to see the video.
I was absolutely giddy as I couldn't wait to see the video. Hopefully, it would give me all the evidence and momentum I needed to implement my plans to divorce my cheating wife and dictate the divorce on MY terms.
Chris retrieved the video data from his cruiser and downloaded it onto my laptop. The video started with Chris casually walking toward the steps leading up to the front porch of my farmhouse. He rang the doorbell twice before Clarissa finally appeared. When she did, you could clearly see the shocked look on her face at seeing a Deputy at her door.
"Yes? May I help you?" she asked.
"Are you Clarissa Marie Quinn?" Chris asked.
"Oh, come on. You know I am. What is this about?"
"Ma'am, I'm Deputy Lieutenant Chris Hayes," he said, handing her the manila envelope. "Mrs. Quinn, you have been officially served."
"What? Are you fucking kidding me?"
"No, ma'am. You have been served."
"Oh, my God! I can't believe this! I cannot believe that gutless son-of-a-bitch would send one of his fucking deputies to do this!"
"Good afternoon, ma'am," Chris said, turning and walking back to his cruiser.
"Hey, Dammit!" Clarissa proceeded to half-shove half-punch Chris in the back. "I'm not finished with you! You tell that bastard that he better be home in time for dinner! I do not accept this! Tell him to get his ass home so we can talk this over!"
"Ma'am, you need to calm down. I will not tolerate you touching me in an aggressive manner." Chris was trying very hard to keep his cool.
"Or what? What the fuck are you going to do about it? You're just a peon deputy! You're nobody!"
"Ma'am, I'm warning you. You need to step back and calm down."
"Oh, now YOU'RE trying to tell me what to do? You don't tell me to do a damned thing! I'm STILL the wife of the Sheriff, you prick!" She proceeded to walk towards him waving the manila envelope at him as though she was threatening to hit him with it. "You tell Patrick that he better have his ass home by six o'clock! He better not be going to his little whore's house on the north side!"
"Ma'am, calm down NOW!" Chris reached forward and put his hand on her shoulder to get her to stop approaching him. Instead of calming her, it sent Clarissa into full nuclear-meltdown-mode.
"Get your fucking hands off me, you prick!" she screamed, batting his hand away. "You don't ever fucking touch me!"
And with that...WHACK! Clarissa slapped poor Chris right across the right side of his face.
"And tell that fucking jerk to get his ass home right fucking now!" she screamed, turning and stomping back towards into the house.
"Oh, my God! That was fucking awesome!" I said, bursting in to hysterical laughter again. "But Jesus, Chris! Why didn't you arrest her right on the spot?"
"Truthfully," Chris said, "I was too damned stunned to know what to do. I wasn't sure if I should haul her off in cuffs or just let you deal with the dumb skank. So I came back here and decided to dump the ball in your lap."
"Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Absolutely not," I chided. "You're gonna go back out there and arrest her dumb ass for assaulting a law enforcement officer, that's what you're gonna do."
"Are you fucking kidding me, Pat? You're seriously gonna plop me in the middle of this shit?"
"Dude, you're already neck deep in it. Besides, wouldn't you like a little payback? Don't you think it would feel great to be the one to haul her off to jail? Book her in? Take her mug shot? In other words, to humiliate the living shit out of her for slapping you across the face?"
Chris thought for a moment and sighed. "You do make an appealing argument, I'll give you that. But I'm not fucking going alone. If she pisses me off any more than she already has, I'm liable to taze the living shit out of her and probably electrocute her. I can't help but think that would be something of a black mark on my stellar law enforcement record if I fried the wife of a sitting sheriff. Uh, Pat? You do realize this is probably going to be in the newspaper and shit, right?"
"Don't worry about that. I'll handle that."
"And she's not gonna be able to stay here, ya know. Our jail's full. She's gonna have to go to Choctaw County tonight and that's a two-hour van ride."
"Not our problem. She made the bed, in more ways than one. And now she gets to lie in it."
"So, you sending someone with me or what?" Chris asked.
"Who's the Lieutenant on duty right now?" I asked.
"Angel Ryerson."
"Perfect. Have Angel and one of her deputies meet up with you. Make a nice little show of force out of it."
"Isn't this going to freak out your kids, though, Pat?"
"Nah. They're spending the weekend with the youth group from Saint Matt's. They're headed over to the Twin Cities to stay at a hotel with an indoor water park and mess around over at the Mall of America. Probably spend most of their weekend in the pool or over at Camp Snoopy."
"I thought they call it Nickelodeon something-or-other now," Chris said, grabbing his hat.
"Yeah, I think you're right. But everybody I know still calls the place Camp Snoopy."
"Alright, Pat. I guess it's time to go arrest your stupid wife."
"Good luck! Call me when you're done."
*******
Needless to say, Clarissa's arrest did not go well - at least not for Clarissa, anyway. She threw such a fit that she damned near got herself an additional charge of resisting arrest. The video would show Lieutenant Angel Ryerson, who is a pint-sized dynamo at only 5 feet 3 inches tall, literally throwing Clarissa down on our front porch while another deputy, Brad Lowe, slapped the cuffs on her and read Clarissa her rights. Clarissa was hysterically crying and shouting at Brad, Angel and Chris the entire time and threatening to sue them for false arrest, excessive force and anything else she could think of.
But it was caught on video in all its 1080p glory and perfect audio that caught every swear word, sneeze and sniffle. Add in the video of her getting served my papers, for good measure, and there wasn't a judge anywhere who would determine that the three Deputies handled themselves with anything but the utmost professionalism the entire time.
By 18:30, Clarissa was photographed, booked, fingerprinted and processed into the Mason County jail. By 19:00 she was dressed in a set of red and white striped prison clothes with a pair of matching red croc shoes. She was crying hysterically as she was led to the van that would transport her nearly two hours south to the Choctaw County jail that is located just outside the town of Cherokee Flats.
The Choctaw County jail is capable of holding 240 prisoners, while our own jail could only hold a maximum of 40, and a full house meant our jail was literally busting at the seams. It was a situation I was bound and determined to correct as Sheriff and one of my top priorities.
As there is no magistrate judge working on the weekend, except in cases to authorize emergency warrants, Clarissa would now have the better part of the next 72 hours to sit and think about what she had done.
A brief phone call to my counterpart in Choctaw County, Sheriff Garrett Meyers, ensured that Clarissa would have a prison cell all her own and away from any other inmates who might try to harm her while she was there. Sheriff Meyers would also make sure that his correctional officers would keep a very close eye on Clarissa and maintain strict confidence. She would be processed into their jail under an alias so no one would know she was there or who she was.
Chris Hayes sent me a picture message on my smart phone of Clarissa's booking photo. It was pathetic in every way imaginable. She was still a very pretty woman in all physical respects. But the photo was not of a young, vibrant or confident woman. It was a photo of a woman who had hit rock bottom and was now beginning to truly understand the consequences of her actions over the past two-plus years. Her eyes carried the terror and fears of all humanity and her face carried the expression of the hopeless and destitute.
In reality, her face reminded me of so many of the mug shots of the millions of women and men who had been processed into the thousands of jails across our country throughout history. Clarissa never wore the look of a criminal a day in her life but I couldn't help but notice how the booking photo instantly branded her with the image of a common crook. Ironically, the photo, in all its bleakness, also came to match the image in my mind of the woman that Clarissa had become ever since the start of her affair with Bud Roberts. It's funny how a simple photo can remind us that the line between the cream of society and the scourge of society is a thin one, indeed.
I had been planning to spend most of the weekend with my new fiancée, Shannon Sullivan and her amazing daughter Bridget. Following the incident with Clarissa's arrest, I had to stop out at the acreage to feed the horses and take care of a few other odds and ends. I didn't end up getting to Shannon's until shortly after 19:30, about the same time that Chris Hayes texted me Clarissa's booking photo.
I let myself in the front door of Shannon's small but cozy home and was greeted with the smell of a home cooked meal that reminded me instantly of so many meals made by my dear grandmother. Shannon and Bridget had just arrived home shortly before I did as Shannon's nursing shift in the ICU at Holy Family Medical Center didn't end until 19:00, after which she had to pick up Bridget from a friend's house where she went after college on the days Shannon had to work.
"Patrick!" shouted Bridget as she sprinted towards me from the kitchen.
"Hey, Bridget," I said, scooping her up for a big hug. "How are my two favorite girls in the whole wide world?"
"Great! I've been waiting all day to see you, Patrick. Wanna see my bug collection?"
"I would love to, sweetheart, but why are you collecting bugs in the middle of winter?"
"Me and mom caught the bugs last fall, silly!"
"Her teacher kept all the kids' bugs on display and finally sent them home today," Shannon explained as she moved in for a kiss. Her voice softened to a sultry tone as she smiled and said, "How are you, handsome?"
"Much better now," I said after the mouthwatering kiss.
"Bad day at work?"
"I'll explain after supper."
"Okay," she said, with a look of concern.
Bridget spent the next 20 minutes telling me all about her bug collection and her day in college, right up until Shannon put a heaping plate of meatballs and mashed potatoes on the table. I couldn't believe she could whip up such a comforting meal in such short order.
Turns out that Shannon likes to make five or six full meals on the weekend and then put them in the freezer so all she has to do is take them out and throw them in the oven to warm up. I could only hope to make the Sheriff's office run as efficiently as Shannon ran her household. It only reaffirmed that I had, indeed, picked a winner.
After supper, I helped Shannon and Bridget clear the table and did the majority of the dishes, which was the least I could do after a great meal. We played a board game, Bonkers, which Bridget absolutely loves. Then it was time for Bridget to head to bed and I got to read her a story. Tonight, it was "The Lorax" by Dr. Seuss.
With Bridget snuggled into bed, I met Shannon back out in the living room, where she was changed into pajama pants and a Minnesota State sweat shirt and sipping on a glass of juice.
"No wine, tonight?" I asked.
"Mmm. Not tonight, love. I have to work tomorrow and I promised Mindy Sutherland that I would be in for her by six. Mom's coming over early to pick up the munchkin and take her out to the ranch for the day."
"I see. I'm sure she'll have a blast."
"You're more than welcome to help yourself to a glass, though."
"I don't mind if I do," I said, heading to the kitchen and pouring myself a large glass of chardonnay. I'm not enough of a wine connoisseur to know which wine is which and when you're supposed to drink it - whether it is before, during or after a meal. But the peach chardonnay Shannon had was good, had alcohol in it and would suffice just fine for my simple tastes. I sat down next to Shannon on the couch and let out a long sigh, finally letting all the stress of the day and my first week as Sheriff off my shoulders.
"That was the sigh of a man who had a rough day. I thought everything was going pretty well so far."
"It is, for the most part," I said as I took a long sip of wine. "This afternoon changed things a bit, however."
"How so?"
I stared into Shannon's beautiful eyes and said, "I had Chris Hayes serve the papers to Clarissa this afternoon."
Shannon tensed up and became very apprehensive. "Oh, my God. It finally happened. You're really getting a divorce?" She grasped my left hand and I could feel her trembling. "This is really happening! We're really going to be together!" Tears started forming in her eyes and one streaked down her right cheek.
"Yes, we are, babe," I said, squeezing her hand tightly.
"How did she take it?"
I sighed deeply and closed my eyes. "It was pretty much a train wreck."
"How so? What happened?"
"You're not gonna believe me if I tell you."
"Sean Patrick Quinn! Don't do that to me. You can't start a story like this and not finish it. That's not fair," she admonished.
"Okay, okay. You're right. My day shift Lieutenant, Chris Hayes, was given the papers to serve this afternoon. When he gave her the papers, Clarissa totally freaked out on him - called him names, cursed at him, the whole nine yards. And then," I paused for dramatic effect, "she proceeded to slap him right across the face."
Shannon gasped in shock. "Oh, my God. You've got to be kidding."
"No, I'm not. You should have seen how upset Chris was when he came back. He was absolutely beside himself."
"What happened next?"
"Well, if you must know," I started.
"Oh, don't tease me! Tell me what happened!"
"I sent Chris back out to the house along with my evening shift Lieutenant, Angel Ryerson and another Deputy by the name of Brad Lowe. I had them arrest Clarissa for assaulting a law enforcement officer."
Another gasp of shock. "Oh, my God! Are you kidding me? What in the world are you thinking?"
"What do you mean 'what am I thinking'?" I said, somewhat taken aback. "Clarissa assaulted one of my deputies. She's no different than anybody else. It was a totally unprovoked attack."

Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 02:44 PM

"I know, but she's still your wife, technically. I mean, I know she's done all sorts of terrible things to you, but arresting her?"

"This isn't payback for all the shit that she, Bud and Marion Lawson did. This is a direct result of her getting pissed off to the point that she lashed out at one of my Deputies to try and get to me. Regardless of how she or I feel about everything, there is no excuse for her to hit one of my Deputies. I also have to let Chris and my Deputies know that I won't tolerate any type of abuse from them or upon them."
"I know, I know," Shannon said, calming somewhat. "The whole thing is just so shocking that I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around everything that is happening."
"I know, babe, I know," I said, squeezing her hand tightly.
"So, how do you think this is going to affect everything?"
"Well," I said, contemplating, "the only thing I can think of is maybe this will make Clarissa more accepting of the divorce. Maybe, with this little turn of events, I can use it to get her to see reason as far as an amicable divorce is concerned."
Again, a look of shock came over Shannon's face. "Oh, my gosh, Patrick - I don't mean to sound like an unsupportive bitch. But is that why you had her arrested? To strong arm her in your divorce?"
"No, no, no," I said, emphatically, shaking my head. "Absolutely not. You can get that thought out of your head right now. I would never do something like that. Doing that would bring me down to her and Bud Roberts' level. Make no mistake about it - Clarissa broke the law when she assaulted one of my Deputies. THAT is the reason that she is spending the weekend in jail. I'll do my very best to help her out of this situation in the best shape possible, legally, but I would be lying if I said that I wasn't going to use it to help you and me get our life started together on the best foot possible.
"And if that can happen by using her arrest to smooth out the path to an amicable divorce, then so be it. I promise you that I'm not going to use it to try and screw over Clarissa in the divorce itself, only to get her to see reason and not fight the inevitable and help make it as easy on the boys as possible."
"You're right, Patrick. I should know better. You're not that kind of person. I'm so sorry I brought it up." Shannon leaned over and kissed me as an apology.
"Don't be," I said. "I'm counting on you to help keep me grounded. This job obviously went to Bud Roberts' head and I'm counting on you to be my anchor, babe."
"Well," Shannon said, sporting a mischievous grin and setting my wine glass on the table, "I don't know much about dropping anchors. But I'd sure appreciate it if you took me to bed and, shall we say, docked your ship in my little port?"
I started chuckling uncontrollably. "What did you just say, love?"
"Dammit, Patrick! I'm trying to talk sexy and drop a little innuendo."
"Hey, I like some dirty talk as much as the next guy. But you're gonna have to do better than that!"
Shannon just stood up and proceeded to seductively strip off her Minnesota State Mankato sweatshirt and the skimpy little t-shirt that she had on underneath. She proceeded to kneel in front of me, spreading my legs. Then she cupped both of her stellar breasts in each hand, caressing the softly and gently tweaking her own nipples.
Shannon proceeded to lean in and rub her spectacular cleavage all the way from my crotch, up my abdomen and chest and then up my neck and face before ending the exotic maneuver with a kiss that could melt titanium.
"So, Sheriff," she cooed to me after another mind blowing kiss, "are you gonna fuck me or what?"
"Oh, you better fucking believe I am," I said as she led me by the hand towards her bedroom. The next two hours were nothing but a blur of AWESOME!
*******
Shannon left for work shortly after 5:15 the next morning but not before we had one more speedy and frantic round of sex. I couldn't help but think incredibly erotic thoughts of her as she didn't even bother to shower before leaving and wore the musk of Sheriff Pat Quinn on her all day as she worked. Of course, to any normal man you couldn't tell the difference. A bit of deodorant and a fresh change of clothes will do the trick for us, most of the time. And Shannon was a natural beauty for whom makeup wasn't a necessity anyway.
I ducked out of the house just after Shannon's mother, Suzanne, arrived to stay with Bridget until she got up out of bed. I returned to the farm to take care of some chores and plan out for what I was going to do the rest of the day.
My attorney in the divorce was a wildcat by the name of Danielle Nichols. She was by far and away the most feared divorce attorney in town and was almost certainly the one that Clarissa would have gone for if I hadn't gotten to Danielle first. I know this because Clarissa actually called Danielle shortly after I had already hired her as Clarissa wanted to have a lawyer ready just in case she couldn't talk me out of a divorce. All of that took place last Fall even before I had Clarissa served with the papers.
Danielle was in her office at Brown, Graham, Norris, Slater and Nichols even though the firm itself was closed for the weekend. I had figured a heads-up call to Danielle was in order, considering the events of the previous afternoon.
Much as you would expect, Danielle was absolutely foaming at the mouth over what she could do to Clarissa in divorce proceedings after she was stupid enough to slap one of my deputies. Looking into the eyes of Danielle Nichols, Esquire was almost like looking into the eyes of Satan himself. I could only be glad that she was on my side. Danielle was beautiful in a sultry and slutty way but also gave off the vibe of a Black Widow spider that would probably kill you and eat you once the copulating was over with.
But, nonetheless, I figured I'd probably have fucked her anyway, if I was still single, just because I'm kind of stupid like that and I tend to think with my dick more than I should.
I was about 15 minutes into our consultation when my cell phone rang. It was a number that I probably shouldn't have had in my phone but one that I had programmed in, nevertheless. The caller ID said, "Caroline Bennett".
"Hello Caroline," I said upon answering.
"Patrick! Thank God I was able to reach you. Can you please tell me what is going on with Clarissa? She called me this morning and told me she was in prison in Cherokee Flats and that you were responsible for putting her there."
"Excuse me," I said to Danielle, covering the phone with both hands. "I need to take this call. I'll be just a few minutes. I'm sorry."
"No. Don't be sorry," Danielle said. "Feel free to stay here. I'm gonna run to the break room and see if we have any coffee in this damned place."
Once Danielle had left the room I continued. "Well, Caroline, the truth is that Clarissa is, indeed, in prison down in Cherokee Flats. There was no room for additional prisoners here in Red River Falls so she was sent to another facility."
"My God, Patrick! What could she have done that justified you putting her in jail?"
"Caroline, at a risk to our very special friendship, let me be perfectly clear. I did NOT have Clarissa incarcerated out of any sort of malice. I followed the procedures of filing divorce papers and utilizing the Sheriff's department to do so. I paid the appropriate fee and everything, just like any normal citizen would. I did so to avoid what I felt would be a certain and ugly confrontation between Clarissa and I. Instead, Clarissa initiated an altercation with one of my Deputies during which she became aggressive, belligerent and slapped my Deputy in the face."
"No, no, no, Patrick. You're wrong. Clarissa can be hotheaded some times. Okay, maybe a lot of times. But my daughter would never willfully strike an officer of the law. I simply can't believe it. Your officer must be mistaken or blowing things way out of proportion."
"I hate to tell you this, Caroline," I said, sighing, "But the entire incident was caught on video."
"Cameras and pictures don't tell the whole story, Patrick."
"True, but in this instance it is pretty cut and dried. All of my Deputies now wear small cameras on their person that record everything in high definition. In this particular case, there might as well have been a TV camera crew there filming it because there isn't much of a difference. You'll understand if and when you see the video, Caroline."
I could hear Caroline sniffing and trying to stifle her own crying. "Please, Patrick. If our special friendship means anything to you, please promise me that you'll do what you can to help her. Please. For her sake and for the sake of my grandsons."
"Caroline," I said, "you have every assurance of mine that I will do what I can to help her. I promise you that. I'll be seeing her here shortly and I assure you that I will have her out on bail no later than the first thing Monday morning. And I also feel confident that this weekend will be the last time she sees the inside of a prison cell."
"Thank you, Patrick. That means so much to me."
"You're quite welcome, Caroline."
"Oh, and Patrick?"
"Yes, Caroline?"
She paused. "Never forget how much you mean to me, Patrick. I know there is a new love in your life. I can only hope and pray that she treats you the way I would treat you if you were mine...the way you deserve to be treated."
Now it was my turn to grope for something to say. "I appreciate that Caroline. And never forget how much you mean to me, either."
"Good bye, Patrick. We'll talk again soon."
"I'll look forward to it." And then she hung up.
It took me a few moments to collect myself after hanging up with Caroline. Even from a distance of several hundred miles away just the sound of her voice could conjure up the thoughts and images of some of the sultriest and most invigorating sexual experiences of my life. Even for a woman in her mid 50's Caroline Bennett was stunningly beautiful and possessed a body and sexuality that women half her age would die for. There was just something about her that would have a hold on me for the rest of my life.
It was a damned good thing I now had Shannon in my life. If I'm being perfectly honest, there aren't many other women in this world who could keep me from straying to spend time with Caroline if she wanted me. There's just something about women who are overtly sexual that appeals to me.
Caroline took advantage of me when I was doing my best not to let a several-hundred-pound metal hay feeder fall on her head when she unzipped my pants and sucked my cock to a mind-blowing orgasm literally within yards of my wife and kids who could have caught us at any moment. And then we had lunch afterwards with Caroline sitting at our kitchen table with a fairly large cum stain on her shirt - right in front of her own daughter!
Shannon, on the other hand, likes to finger her own pussy, coat it with her sweet juices and then stick those fingers in my mouth for me to lick off. What can I say? I'm a sucker for women who know what they want. My job is to protect and serve. And if serving means giving a woman what she wants in bed then I'll do my best to oblige.
I was thinking those thoughts just as Danielle came back into her office carrying two cups of fresh steaming coffee and set one down on her desk in front of me. I could easily see Danielle as having the potential to have her way with me, as well, or any other man for that matter. She was, as she put it, happily divorced. Danielle had previously been married to Carsten Brown who was the "Brown" of Brown, Graham, Norris, Slater and Nichols and who was, himself, previously happily married to another woman right up until Danielle joined the firm. Danielle was an associate attorney for the firm right up until Carsten Brown got divorced. Then she became a partner of the firm shortly after she became Carsten Brown's partner in the bedroom. The whole thing was scandalously delicious from a gossip's point of view, which just reinforces the old saying - "There's not much to see in a small town but what you hear sure makes up for it!"
"Now, then," Danielle said as she made herself comfortable again in her high backed chair. "Let's figure out how we're gonna crucify that bitchy wife of yours."
Danielle thought I was nuts for trying to work out an equitable divorce as she was fairly positive that she could use Clarissa's arrest to get me every last thing I could want by hanging the prospect of additional prison time for her. The truth was, all I wanted from Clarissa was a quick and easy divorce. I simply wanted to split what we had 50/50 and share custody of the boys. I wanted the boys to still have their primary residency with me out at the farm while Clarissa could enjoy liberal visitation with them after college and every other weekend as well as having them with her for a good chunk of the summer months.
Personally, I think Danielle just wanted to see Clarissa squirm like the proverbial worm on a hook. As for me, I was just determined to separate from her while keeping her honor intact, at least in the eyes of our sons. I hoped that would be incentive enough to take the fight out of her.
I left Danielle's office just after 9:00 and needed to pay a little visit to another attorney. I drove to the west side of town to a posh little neighborhood called Elk Run Heights. It was one of the newer housing developments in Red River Falls and was filled with McMansions of the movers and shakers of Red River Falls. Fox Run Golf and Country Club was incorporated within the development and nearly every house had course front property. Most of the residents here could either swim in their pools and then sun bathe in one of the sand traps and completely eliminate the need to ever go to the beach - at least in summer time.
5945 Elk Run Drive was the residence of one Marion Lawson, Esquire - otherwise known as the Mason County Attorney. Needless to say, Marion was not expecting me today. Being the middle of January, it wasn't like I was interrupting his foursome. Marion, it turned out, preferred threesomes - especially with my wife and Bud Roberts. He also had a penchant for underage Asian girls but that was a secret between just me and Marion, although it could easily be revealed to the world if he ever pissed me off.
I walked up to the front of the stately brick home and rang the door bell. Marion himself appeared within a few moments.
"Jesus," he said upon seeing me. "And here my weekend was going so well."
"Nice to see you, too, Marion." Lawson just stood there with the door ajar. "Well? Aren't you going to invite me in?
"Not unless I have a good reason," he grunted.
"Oh, I have business to discuss, I assure you."
"Does this pertain to me in any way, shape or form?"
"Marion," I said, with a bit of an edge in my voice, "everything I do pertains to you in some way."
Marion just rolled his eyes and opened the door to allow me in.
"My study is inside and to the left. And take your damned shoes off so you don't fuck up my hardwood floors. We just had 'em stripped, stained and coated."
"Ooh, it's almost like we're gonna hang out for a while."
"Don't get any ideas. You're not staying long enough to watch the playoffs and every beer in the fridge has the name Marion on it, not Patrick."
"Doesn't matter. The Vikes got eliminated a long time ago."
"Shit, Pat, the Vikes got eliminated after the preseason, for God's sake," he grumbled. "How can you stand to watch those losers?"
"Hey, hey, hey, now. To hate my team is to hate me," I replied.
"Do you really want me to fucking reply to that, Quinn?"
"Probably not," I agreed.
We entered the house and headed for Marion's office when his wife Patti Jean spotted us from the massive open kitchen. Whatever she was cooking smelled fantastic and my grumbling stomach reminded me I hadn't eaten yet.
"Oh, hello Sheriff! What brings you by today?" Patti called from the kitchen.
I couldn't answer before Marion interrupted, "He's not staying long and we'll be in the study. We've got some important business so make sure we're not disturbed." Patti Jean looked absolutely crestfallen at her husband's rebuke.
But she brightened up again when I said, "Lovely to see you again, Patti. Whatever you're cooking smells absolutely delicious, hon!"
"Thanks, Patrick! We'd love to have you join us for dinner some time!"
"And I'd love to join you some time. I promise to bring my fiancé, plenty of bad jokes and a big appetite!"
Patti Jean started laughing and Marion practically yanked me into his office and shut the door behind us and locked it.
"You're not coming over for dinner, by the way," he chided as he directed me to a chair in front of his ostentatiously huge oak desk.
"But Patti Jean just invited me, Marion. It'd be rude to turn her down."
Marion gave me an exasperated look as he sat in an equally gaudy chair. "Did you come over here just to piss me off, Pat? Or did you actually have something you wanted to talk to me about?"
"Tell Patti she doesn't have to go over board. I'm a simple man with simple tastes."
"Dammit, Sheriff!"
"Meat loaf, mashed potatoes and gravy. Comfort food always sits well with me, especially in winter time. I bet Patti could work magic with that! Her cooking definitely seems to help you keep your girlish figure, Marion," I chuckled.
"I'm warning you, Pat!"
"My deputies arrested my wife last evening."
Lawson's jaw damned near dropped to the floor. "WHAT? Are you fucking kidding me?"
"No, I'm not. She was served with divorce papers yesterday and she assaulted one of my Deputies."
Lawson gawked at me wide-eyed. "Ya know? Phil Robertson said it best. You're a special kind of stupid, aren't you, Pat. I mean, my God! Who the fuck did the people of this county elect Sheriff?
"They elected someone who doesn't feel that they or their families are above the law."
"Bullshit. What'd she do? Bump into him as he was walking by?"
"Nope. She got pissed off, took it out on my Deputy and slapped him right across his face. We've got it all on video."
"Who?"
"Who what?" I asked, confused.
"Who was the Deputy that served her?"
"Lieutenant Chris Hayes."
"Oh, Jesus," Lawson said making a sour face, shaking his head. "Figures. If that fucking idiot isn't doing something right this minute that deserves a slap in the face, then the smart money says it's just a matter of time before he does. Probably getting slapped right now by that tatted up druggie whore of a girlfriend of his."
I shifted in my seat as I prepared to defend Chris and Tonya. "I assure you that Lieutenant Hayes is not an idiot and his new WIFE isn't either. In fact, she's probably got the highest IQ in Mason County. And the only thing she has ever had on her record is a simple misdemeanor possession charge from the state of Massachusetts."
"Are you fucking kidding me? You let your goddamned deputy marry that bitch? I happen to know for a fact that she sells a shitload of pot out of that fucking store of hers on the north end. Fixing and selling computers and old records doesn't pay the fucking bills for that place, you know."
"Actually, it does, Marion," I corrected. "It is true that Tonya still fixes, upgrades and sells computers and old records. But she has also taken on several contracts around town, under my recommendation, that has her working as a network administrator and analyst for a number of businesses. Every single client of hers absolutely raves about her work. She pretty much puts every other IT guy in Red River Falls to shame."

Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 02:46 PM

"I swear to God, Pat, if I find out you're covering up any illegal activity for her I'll -"

"You'll what?" I interrupted. "Don't forget that I happen to know what kind of shit you've got on your home computer, Marion," I scolded, reminding him of the kiddie porn he still possessed.
Marion stopped dead in his tracks. After a few tense moments he said, "You didn't come here to talk about Hayes and his floozy. What is it that you want, Pat?"
"As I told you, my wife is in prison for assaulting Hayes. I want you to hold off on filing any charges until I tell you, too."
"That's my prerogative, Pat. I make that call, not you."
"No, you don't. Need I remind you of your nasty little hobby?"
"Shit, Pat," Lawson groaned. "You know, I AM the goddamned county attorney. At some point you're going to have to drop that shit and let me do my fucking job."
"I understand that. But not yet. Just hold off on the charges until I tell you to. If anybody asks you about it, which they shouldn't, just tell them that there is an ongoing investigation and you'll make a statement to the public when it is completed."
"How the hell are you going to keep people from finding out about her?"
"She was processed into the Choctaw County jail under an alias. Garrett Meyers is a friend. He's keeping an eye on her."
"Meyers? The Choctaw County Sheriff? Didn't that fucking old fossil run over a dead body a few months ago?"
"Uh...yes. Yes he did," I answered sheepishly. "However, in his defense, it was a wreck in the far west part of his county during a really shitty snow storm and the body was almost completely obscured by a snow drift. The State Patrol should have marked where the body was."
"Yeah, I'll bet that was really comforting to the family. I'm sure the poor undertaker that had to take care of the body appreciated that, too. Tell me again, how far did he drag the body under his Tahoe before he realized what the fuck was going on?"
"Mmm. Somewhere between 20 and 25 feet. Look, we're getting sidetracked here. Are you gonna play ball with me on this or not?"
"Fine, fine," Lawson said, waving me off and rubbing his face. "I'll hold off filing any charges. In fact, I'll pretend that I don't know a damned thing about it until late Monday afternoon or until you decide you want charges pressed. I'm assuming you're doing all of this to manhandle Clarissa in the divorce?"
"No. Well...not exactly. Okay, I guess a little bit, but just to get her to agree to the divorce itself. The terms I am proposing, not that it's any of your damned business, but the terms I'm offering are pretty damned good. I'm not looking to screw her over. She's still my kids' mom."
"Pat," Lawson said. He paused for a few moments. "May I ask you something personal?"
"Gee, Marion. Are we about to have a bonding session?"
"Not hardly," he snickered.
"Bummer. Oh, well. Fire away," I said.
"What's gonna happen with Clarissa when this is all over with?"
My eyes narrows and my stomach tightened. "What do you mean?"
"Well," he started, "I mean, Clarissa is gonna obviously be single again. And I was, uh, sort of...maybe... wondering if you would have a problem with - "
"Don't even fucking think about it!" I growled.
"What's the problem, Pat? You're obviously not gonna be with her. You can plainly see that my marriage is in the toilet. I promise to treat your boys - "
I stood up, slammed both hands down on Lawson's desk, started him right in the eyes and growled, "My boys already have a Dad. And my fucking soon-to-be-ex-wife is off limits to you, Marion. Do you fucking understand? Do you?"
Lawson just sighed, put his hands up in surrender and said, "Fine. Have it your way. But if I help you with this, I'm gonna consider us even, Pat. I want you to get those damned pictures out of that file on my server and I want those damned hidden photos taken off the internet. Deal?"
"Let me explain something, Marion. You and Bud Roberts used to fuck my wife in your little threesomes. You had the audacity to even tell me about it and try to humiliate me over it. Guess what? You and I aren't even. Not by a long...fucking...shot! We're not going to be even for a very, very long time, if EVER!"
I stood and made my way to the doors to Marion's office and unlocked them. As I turned the handle to let myself out I looked at Marion one final time and said, "And those fucking pictures stay right where they are!"
*******
I spent the night out at the farm by myself instead of with Shannon, though I really wanted to stay with her. Who the hell wouldn't want to spend the night making love to that incredible woman and her amazing body? But I decided to spend it by myself and finalize some more details in the plans for my impending divorce.
I skipped Sunday Mass the next morning and by 9 o'clock was in my department-issued and aging 2010 Ford Expedition. I caught up with US Highway 120 and headed south towards Cherokee Flats. The drive was about two hours and was fairly sparsely populated along the way. The road itself was 65 miles an hour so I made good, steady time.
The Choctaw County Jail was located on the north end of Cherokee Flats. It was a newer facility that contained the jail, the Sheriff's offices and even had a courtroom that served as an auxiliary to the ones at the county courthouse.
The jail itself was fairly imposing and significantly larger than the one in Mason County, which was still perched atop the Mason County Courthouse. There was a fairly good-sized exercise yard that was encapsulated inside three separate rings of chain-linked fence that were each topped off with three rows of razor-sharp concertina wire. Woe to anyone who was ever dumb enough to try and climb over the top of that, let alone anyone ballsy enough to have to do it at least three times.
The Choctaw County Jail was different than the Mason County Jail in one other significant respect and that was the visitation room. Visitors were only allowed in both jails for the lower risk inmates. But whereas the visitors at the Mason County Jail could actually see an inmate face-to-face, visitors at the Choctaw County Jail utilized a video system that would only allow visitors to see inmates on a closed-circuit television screen.
The room for visitors was located completely opposite of the jail itself and visitors and inmates would never be closer than 300 feet to one another.
However, if you're a sitting Sheriff whose wife happens to be incarcerated and you happen to be friends with the Sheriff whose jail you're visiting, exceptions can be made.
"Hey, Pat!" Sheriff Garrett Meyers greeted me at his office. He's been the Sheriff of Choctaw County for nearly 20 years. Garrett is in his early 60's, has a full head of perfectly coiffed silver hair but is still in remarkable shape for his age. "How's the first week on the job going?"
"It's going pretty well, Garrett. At least it was until Friday."
"I'm sure. I want you to know that we've been keeping a close eye on her the entire time she's been here. Nobody knows she's in here, either. Nobody came looking for her or been asking about her. She only made one phone call so far and I believe that was to her mother."
"Yeah, I heard from her mother. She knows."
"If you'll follow me, Pat, we'll head right this way. Although normal visitation is done by video only, we have to allow attorneys the opportunity to meet in private with their clients. So we have a secure room down this hall that we'll have you meet your wife in."
"Thanks, Garrett. I really appreciate this."
"Happy to help, Pat. And, by all means, stay as long as you need to."
"Thanks again, Sheriff."
I was let into a small 8 X 8 room with a small metal table and two metal stools that were all securely fastened to the ground, ostensibly so they could not be thrown by inmates at their attorneys. The room was not wired for sound or with video so as to maintain attorney-client privilege. I had also secured my personal firearm prior to entering the jail, as well, and also padded down and electronically searched.
I was there about five minutes before the door opened. I stood up as Clarissa was brought into the room in full shackles, which included handcuffs, ankle cuffs and a chain that wrapped around her waist and secured her hands close to her body as well as linking to the ankle cuffs. The purpose was to make it difficult for inmates to attack the correctional officers as well as make it almost impossible to run.
The tall athletic African-American female correctional officer led Clarissa to the stool and side of the table opposite from where I had been sitting. Once seated, her ankle cuffs were secured to a hook on the floor and her handcuffs were secured to a hook on her side of the table, further restricting her movement.
Clarissa looked like hell and that was putting it mildly. Her eyes were puffy and blood shot and it was clear she had been crying non-stop since she got here. Her hair was tangled and matted and she was obviously in need of a shower. She wouldn't look at me as she did everything she could to fight and hold back more tears.
"How are you, Clarissa?" It was a stupid question but the only one I could come up with.
"How do you think?" she replied, barely whispering.
"I understand how you feel."
"No you don't," she said as she couldn't hold back the tears any longer. "How could you possibly understand? *sob* How could you do this to me, Patrick?"
I leaned in and said, "I didn't do this to you, Clarissa. You are here because you assaulted one of my deputies."
"I'm sorry!" she said, wailing and sobbing. "I only got upset because I thought he was there to tell me something bad happened to you!"
"That's not true, Clarissa, and you know it. You know exactly what the procedures are in the event of an officer down. Hell, you've been through it before, remember? You knew damned well that Chris Hayes wasn't there for that."
"I swear to God, Patrick! That is what I thought! I don't care what your deputy told you," she sobbed, still unable to look directly at me.
"No, Clarissa. You didn't. I have the whole thing on video."
"How could you possible see anything? His car was parked in the driveway, Patrick. It's my word against his."
"Clarissa, several months ago we purchased small cameras that the Deputies wear on their uniforms, just like their radios. The cameras saw and recorded the entire event. Chris Hayes approached you, he served you the papers, and then you followed him back towards his car. You deliberately pursued him and were belligerent and provoking him the entire time. He put his arm out to stop you from approaching him and then you proceeded to use your left hand and slap Chris on the right side of his face. I have the whole thing on my phone. See?"
I pulled out my smart phone, which Garrett had allowed me to bring in with me. I pulled up the video clip and started playing it. Clarissa initially refused to look at my phone, believing until the last possible second that there was no way the whole situation could have been caught on camera. But as soon as she heard the unmistakable and perfectly clear sound of her own voice, she stopped crying immediately and stared blankly at the video, too shocked to say anything.
When the video had finished playing Clarissa looked away from me again, only this time in shame.
"Patrick, what's going to happen to me?"
"Well," I said, tucking my phone back in my pocket, "that all depends on you. Right now you're looking at an assault charge, more specifically, assault of a peace officer. That is going to be an aggravated misdemeanor. You could, theoretically, be looking at two to five years in prison."
"Oh, my God," she whispered. "Please tell me you're going to help me, Patrick."
"I will help you, Clarissa. But you are also going to help me, as well."
"What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to sign the divorce papers. I want you to accept them, sign them and make this entire process as smooth and painless for us and for Nick and Jake as much as possible."
"That's what this is all about? You had me arrested so you could get what you want in the divorce? You son-of-a-bitch!" She burst into tears again and was seething, trying to compose herself and control her breathing.
"No, Clarissa. Make no mistake. That is NOT what got you thrown in jail. You could have easily accepted the papers and lost your cool with me when we spoke again. Instead, you chose to take a swan dive off the crazy board and landed yourself right in prison. Assaulting my Deputy got you here, not me. If you get one thing right in all of this, make sure you get THAT part straight!"
"Then how is helping you divorce me going to help me?"
"I'm going to help you get the charges either reduced so you only have to get sentenced to time served. Or, if I'm really lucky, I just might be able to talk Deputy Hayes into dropping the matter altogether. But I'm only going to intervene on your behalf if you agree to make our divorce as painless as possible. Do you agree to this, Clarissa?"
She looked up towards the ceiling in desperation. "What choice do I have?"
"Easy. You can either choose to help yourself or not."
"But I don't want a divorce, Patrick. How many times do I have to say it? I don't want a divorce. I don't want to split up our family. I want our family to stay together."
"Clarissa, do you remember what we talked about before we ever got married? Do you remember what we said would happen if either one of us ever cheated on the other?" Tears were now streaking down her face again as she closed her eyes, remembering our talk from long ago.
"We always said that cheating in our marriage was a deal breaker. You wouldn't put up with it from me and I wasn't going to put up with it from you. We always said that we could handle ANY situation other than infidelity."
"But I was wrong, Patrick. I think we can survive this if we just work on it. I know I want to work on it. I want to find a way for us to love each other again just like when we first fell in love. I want us to feel special again. I want to feel you love me and make love to me like we used to, Patrick."
"You know what, Clarissa? You know what I'm hearing an awful lot of? I'm hearing you say the word 'I' an awful lot. In other words, it is all about you. This whole sorry affair has been all about you. It is all about you and what you want.
"You know what I have yet to hear from you? I have yet to hear you say, 'I'm sorry, Patrick. Sorry for the hell I've put you through for these last two years. Sorry for the pain, heart ache and humiliation I've put you through'. I never heard that from you, Clarissa. And if you say it now, it won't mean anything because you'll only be saying it because you want to get out of here and you want to get out of a tough spot. There is no easy fix for this. There is no easy way out."
"But I really AM sorry, Patrick! I'm sorry that I haven't said it until now. But I know that the two of us are stronger than we think. I've seen an entirely new side of you, Patrick. I admit that I took you for granted but now I see how tough-as-nails you are. I've seen how hard you've fought back. And I know that you can fight that hard for our marriage if you really want to," she begged and pleaded.
"But I don't want to, Clarissa. I don't want to fight this battle anymore. I just want it to be over with. You have no idea what you've done to me. All I see when I look at you is something that used to belong to me but was taken from me.
"If we ever tried to make love, all I would do is wonder whether you were thinking of Bud Roberts or some other guy you were with and torture myself with thoughts of whether you were wishing you were with them instead of me. I would always wonder whether I was strong enough, sexy enough or a good enough lover to satisfy you. I would even wonder if you thought I was a good enough father to our boys. I can't go through that for the rest of my life, Clarissa. I just can't."
Clarissa sat there quietly sobbing. I hoped that it was because the realization of what she had done to me, our marriage and our family was finally setting in. But I also had no illusions that it could just as easily be weeping of remorse for the opportunities that she had that were lost.
"Please try, Patrick. I'm begging you."
"I can't Clarissa," I said, tears now forming in my own eyes and a lump growing in my throat. "There's too much there to overcome. I'll never, ever be able to get over what you and Bud Roberts did. I know myself well enough to know what I can handle and what I can't. You nearly cost me my family and my very freedom, Clarissa.
"There's no coming back from that. Just please sign the papers. Sign the papers and I'll do whatever I can to help you get out of this mess or at least make it less shitty than it is. If you ever really loved me or cared about me, please do this one thing for me. At the very least, you owe me that."
Clarissa just held her head in her hands and sobbed for nearly five minutes straight. In the end, she struggled to regain some shred of composure, wiped her tears as best she could and then accepted a pen from me with shackled hands and signed the divorce papers and agreed to all of my terms.
I would pay Clarissa half the equity of the farm and split all of our savings completely in half. I would continue to carry her on my insurance until she could find suitable employment that would provide her own insurance or for a period of one year, whichever came first.
I would help Clarissa find suitable housing that would be able to serve as a second residence for the boys as the farm would stay as their primary residence. I would also pay up to one year's rent for her to help her get on her feet and would also continue making payments on her Explorer until it was paid off. I would also pay for her cell phone for at least one year, as well.
My attorney Danielle Nichols thought I was nuts agreeing to those terms. In reality, it probably was. Hell, Clarissa's mother, Caroline, was now deeply involved with a man named Martin Belmond who was a multi-millionaire dozens of times over. I had no doubt that Clarissa's mother would do whatever was necessary to help her daughter. I did all of these things because I wanted to make sure that I treated Clarissa fairly and so she couldn't accuse me of trying to screw her over.
Using her time in prison as leverage might give some the impression that I was being an asshole. But if things had turned out differently and Clarissa and Bud Roberts had gotten their way, things would have been a hell of a lot worse for me in ways I can't even imagine. Bad shit happens to cops who go to prison.
I did have one little surprise for Clarissa, however. I did obtain a release order from the magistrate, Judge Hannah Bergen, granting Clarissa release on her own recognizance. It was highly unusual, especially since I had to call the judge and stop by her residence to get the paperwork signed. Even though Clarissa was being held in the Choctaw County jail, the case still originated in Mason County so we still had jurisdiction.
I'm sure there are those in the public who would raise seven different shades of holy hell over this, but I didn't really care at this point. The upside was that it would make Clarissa happy. The downside was the fact that I would now be forced to make the two hour drive home with Clarissa.
It took Sheriff Meyer's staff about 45 minutes to out process Clarissa from the Choctaw County jail. Part of that time was spent allowing Clarissa to have a private shower before being released. More time was spent signing paperwork and retrieving the few personal effects that she had. I brought a complete change of clothes for her and by one pm we were leaving Cherokee Flats and heading home.

Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 02:48 PM

We rode in total silence for nearly an hour before either of us said anything. Finally, I couldn't take any more.

"Are you hungry?" I asked.
Clarissa just kept staring out the passenger window and shook her head.
"Do you want to stop and grab something to drink at least?"
"I don't want a divorce, Patrick. I know I signed the papers, but I didn't want to."
I kept both hands on the wheel at 10 and 2 and gripped it in frustration. I sucked in a deep breath through my nose and exhaled slowly. "Clarissa, we have already been over this. It is a done deal as far as I'm concerned."
She wasn't actively crying but tears were streaming down her face again. "Well, if this is your way of torturing me, Patrick, it's working."
I couldn't stand it anymore. I hit the brakes hard without locking them up and pulled over to the side of the road and slammed the lever into "park".
"Torturing you, Clarissa? What about me? Huh? What about torturing me?"
"Is that what you think life would be like with me, Patrick? Torture?"
"Jesus, woman, you are really fucking dense! I'm not talking about spending my life with you. I'm talking about all the shit that would have happened to me if your little adventure with Bud Roberts had succeeded!"
"But it didn't happen, Patrick! Okay? Everything fell through with that! Maybe it fell through for a reason! Maybe we're supposed to stay together! At the very least, you need to learn to move on from it!"
"I can't, dammit!"
"For God's sake, Patrick! Why the hell not? Why can't we at least try to move on together? Why is divorce the only option?"
I looked away from her. She was so oblivious to her own deviousness and utter insanity that she now physically and emotionally repulsed me. I sat there for a few moments as I could see her giving me a pleading look from my peripheral vision. I did everything I could to look away.
It took all I had to not break down, to find some way to keep my cool and fight the urge to slam Clarissa's head into the dashboard over and over and over and over again until there was nothing left but her neck and a bloody stump where her stupid, thick melon used to be.
And then, I thought of Shannon and that familiar, serene wave of calm washed over my body and I once again found my center and the true purpose in my life. I closed my eyes and thought of her and imagined the feel of her body, the feminine strength of her embrace, the taste of her lips and the smell of her soaps, lotions and perfumes. It was then that I was calm enough to tell Clarissa what I had been trying to find the strength to tell her all along.
"I can't, Clarissa. There is no way for me to move on from this. To do that, Clarissa, I would have to go back to being the old me, the one who trusted you and loved you enough not to question whether you would ever cheat on me - the one who never questioned whether you loved me in return. What you did to me, Clarissa, absolutely changed me on a molecular level, if that's possible.
"Your affair and the plans you shared with Bud Roberts to absolutely crush and destroy me changed me into someone I never thought I could be. And that is both amazing and absolutely tragic at the same time. In order to save myself I had to learn to think just as evil as you and Bud. In order to save myself I had to learn to plot and connive and beg and borrow and steal to get what I needed in order to stay out of jail.
"I have broken laws I swore to uphold just to serve what I believed to be a larger purpose. I have ripped the threads of the law to keep the blanket of justice intact to safeguard an unknowing public from dangerous people who would otherwise have been free to roam the streets and countryside again because of what you and Bud Roberts tried to do to me.
"I have become what I despise and that is to be devious, manipulative, conniving, underhanded and whatever other adjectives and superlatives you can possibly think of to describe me.
"But I never did ANY of those things for myself. I did them for my boys. I did them for the public at large. I did them for you. And I even did them for Bud Roberts and Marion Lawson. I don't have blood on my hands, Clarissa, but I have a helluva lot of dirt on them now. I'm not the Dudley Doright that I used to be. But the positive of it is, Clarissa, is that your and Bud's actions have made me a survivor.
"I can honestly say that there is NOTHING that I wouldn't do to protect my family, my friends and the people of Mason County from harm. I have stood at the face of death's door because of my commitment to that end and returned to tell about it, both literally and figuratively."
I put the Expedition back into gear, signaled, and pulled the big SUV back onto the highway and headed back towards Red River Falls.
"So, yes, Clarissa. You are right. I am tough as nails. Fighting for your life - whether from death itself or an existence worse than death in jail - will pretty much do that to you. So I won't thank you for destroying our family. But, in a way, I do thank you for making me a stronger person. Because I can honestly say that I never would have been prepared to become Sheriff if you hadn't."
I stopped talking at that point and my soon-to-be-ex-wife and I rode in silence the remainder of the trip. For Clarissa, it was literally a trip into the future as she would now have to decide what her future was going to be. Only she could set the direction. The only thing I knew was that her future would not include me, at least not as her husband.
When we arrived home, Clarissa simply went upstairs without saying a word and went to bed. She slept for several hours, probably from pure exhaustion after having spent the weekend in jail. The boys got home from their weekend trip with the youth group to the Twin Cities and were eager to tell us all about it. As I listened to their youthful chatter and excitement, I knew that there was no way I would have had Clarissa arrested had they been home all weekend instead of 200 miles east of here. A lucky break for me and a bad one for Clarissa.
Clarissa eventually came downstairs around supper time. She smiled and greeted the boys with hugs and kisses on their heads. She cooked a light supper for all of us consisting of grilled ham and cheese sandwiches.
And, much to my amazement, after supper, Clarissa asked us all to remain at the dinner table. I had no idea what was coming but she sat there and told the boys the news that she and I were going to be separating. She explained to the boys that we had been having some serious problems and that, although we loved both Nick and Jake dearly, that she and I could not stay together and she was going to be moving out for a while.
Clarissa even went so far as to say that this was a decision that she had made and begged Nick and Jake not to be angry with me as it was not my fault. She did fib a little bit when she said that she wasn't sure how long we would need to be apart, just long enough for her and I to settle some differences that we had.
I'm sure that her reasons for keeping things open-ended were to allow the boys time to adjust to us not being together and I was grateful for that. She also assured the boys that their home would not change and they would remain in the house and on the little acreage with their horses, cattle, dogs and cats that they had come to love so much.
Clarissa assured them that, although the boys would not be spending time with both her and me at the same time, that they would still see both of us on a constant basis. She even went so far as to ask them to please help me out as much as possible and also asked them for help in finding her a suitable place to stay in Red River Falls so they could spend time there after college before coming home to the farm each night.
To their credit, the boys were sad but took the news much better than I expected. There were tears, of course, but neither of them broke down fully or blew up in a tantrum. Perhaps they had suspected and even expected that things would eventually come to this. Nick had alluded to it even when I was at the law enforcement conference in Minneapolis over a year and a half ago. Sometimes, we adults don't give our kids the credit they deserve for their intuition and perceptions of the world around them.
Within a few days, Clarissa had secured a very nice apartment in a brand-new complex of town houses that was inside a gated community. The complex had its own playground and pool that the boys would probably enjoy this summer and was within six blocks of the middle college they both attended.
It didn't take Chris Hayes much persuading to drop the charges against Clarissa for assaulting a peace officer. I think Chris knew how difficult this would be for all of us and realized Clarissa was acting out of desperate self-preservation than any real malice towards him or any other deputy. Marion Lawson played ball, as I demanded he would, and Judge Hanna Bergen did her part to make the case go away.
If we ever audited for any reason, people would remember something had happened, but there was no paperwork or reports to specify what. I never told Clarissa any of that, of course, just to make sure the divorced went through its natural progression.
When I broke the news of all of this to Shannon, she was incredibly supportive of me as she knew the finality of my impending divorce was weighing heavily on me; not because I wanted to stay married to Clarissa, but simply grief and remorse of a dead and failed marriage.
It was strange, too, because I could now also begin to focus on my new life with Shannon and Bridget that would rise from the ashes of my previous life with Clarissa. And I knew in my heart that my boys would blend well with Shannon and Bridget and accept them as stepmother and stepsister. I was sure there would be conflicts and stumbles along the way, but my gut instinct told me there were to be far more wonderful days in our future than rocky ones.
And, eventually, I even began to hope that someday the right man would walk into Clarissa's life and give her the happiness that I was unable to.
Another big surprise was the revelation from my future father-in-law that his impending wedding gift to Shannon and I would be to pay off the mortgage for the acreage so that Shannon and I could focus on other things besides working to pay the bank. It was more than I could have ever imagined, more than I deserved and I was so shocked by his offer that I initially refused.
But Jack Sullivan reminded me that I didn't want to get on his bad side and there was nothing that he wouldn't do for his daughter and granddaughter. Then he laughed hysterically and pulled me in for a massive bear hug and said, "Welcome to the family!"
Thus, one major chapter in my life comes to a close. And the next chapter is now ready to be written. All of the principal characters are in place. There is no need to dwell on the past, only a bright future ahead. From this day forward, the only history that will matter is the history we make for ourselves.
The End
SB

Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 02:49 PM

Grab Life by the Balls

For more background and information on the characters in this story, please read the following:

What Mother-in-Law Wants
Badge of Betrayal
Clarissa Gets Served
*WARNING* The characters and events in this story are fictional. There is frank discussion in this story about sexual abuse and bang, some of which may be discomforting. While not described in detail, it does involve one of the characters relating his history of abuse to the protagonist. This discussion is not intended in any way, shape or form to elicit sexual arousal and serves only to provide context and background for how an adult, educated and professional male could allow himself to be victimized well into adulthood.
Sexual abuse and bang are crimes and should be tolerated by no one. No means NO! If you or someone you know is a victim of sexual abuse or bang, please contact the authorities and report it.
If you or someone you know has been a victim, and you think stories involving this subject matter may serve as a trigger of past trauma, please do not read this story. For everyone else, I hope you enjoy my offering, dark though it may be.
*****
There's a saying that goes 'To err is human. To really foul things up requires a computer.'
That sentiment pretty much describes how things have been around the Mason County Sheriff's Department lately - 'fouled up'. I was thinking these things as I stared at my computer screen that had locked up for the umpteenth time today. The damned little cursor was stubbornly stuck in the same position on my screen and had been for nearly five minutes.
I decided to say the hell with it and initiate a hard shutdown and reboot. I didn't really have much choice, even though I wouldn't have been able to save the most recent work I was doing on my departmental budget for the upcoming fiscal year. My budget was due to the county supervisors six months prior to the start of the new fiscal year and our recent rash of computer and network glitches wasn't helping me in the least bit.
I was close to completion, thankfully, but the recent issues still had me irritated, nonetheless. It was equally frustrating for my Chief Deputy, Lieutenants and Deputies as they all had issues trying to get their reports completed in a timely fashion.
A knock on my door announced the presence of my day shift Lieutenant, Chris Hayes.
"Got a minute, Pat?"
"Actually, I do," I said, sitting with my back to him. "I'm rebooting my computer for the zillionth time today."
"You, too, huh? This is getting to be nothing short of insane, Pat."
"Don't I know it," I said, swiveling around in my chair to face him.
"Anybody even talked to Dean about this? It's getting worse every day, Pat." Chris was referring to the county's network administrator, Dean Strobe. "I've got guys pulling car stops that take damned near 20 or 30 minutes just pulling down data on their cruiser terminals. At most, a stop shouldn't take more than 5 to 10 minutes."
"I know, I know. The shitty part is that we can't even go 'old college' and just have the dispatchers relay subject info like we used to because the dispatchers are in the same predicament you guys are in the field."
"What do you want us to do, Pat?"
"Just keep doing the best you can, for now. I'll call Mitch Monahan and bitch to him and just tell him that I'm taking matters into my own hands, as a matter of public safety. I'm as sick of this as you are."
"We'd appreciate that, Pat," Chris said, rising from his chair. "Just out of curiosity, what do you think Dean's issue is, anyway?"
"I really don't know," I sighed. "About all I do know is that he has been calling in sick a lot. And the few times I have seen him, he looks like absolute hell. I might have to just pull him aside at some point and see if I can get to the bottom of this."
"All I know is something needs to be done. Everything in this place depends on it."
"I'll let you and the other shift commanders know what I find out."
"Okay. Thanks Pat."
"No problem," I said, swiveling back around to my work station, only to be greeted by the blue screen of death, indicating that now my computer was not even booting up at all. Whatever the issues were with my computer, I could only hope that my completed budget work was still saved somewhere on the county's servers.
Dean Strobe used to be about as dependable as the atomic clock. Now, it is minute-to-minute to see if we can even get anything done around here. The issues came on gradually, maybe a glitch one week that was solved quickly and then nothing for two or three weeks. About a month ago, however, things got really bad and we started experiencing network issues or individual computer issues on an almost daily basis.
My specialty is law enforcement. Truth be told, I'm an absolute idiot when it comes to anything technical, especially computers. Fortunately, I know people who have always been able to help me out in a jam and that's where a young woman named Tonya Fulbright came in. Correction - Tonya Fulbright-Hayes, to be precise. She was now the wife of Lieutenant Christopher Hayes.
I grabbed my office phone and quickly hit the speed dial for the office of the county administrator, Mitch Monahan. Mitch Monahan did for Mason County and the county supervisors what the Red River Falls city administrator did for the town, the mayor and the council.
"County administrator's office," a young lady answered.
"Good afternoon," I replied. "This is Pat Quinn. May I please speak with Mitch?"
"I'm sorry, Sheriff. Mister Monahan is in a meeting right now with the county engineer. Can I put you through to his voice mail?"
"Actually, I really need to speak with him. Could you please see if he'll take my call?"
"I'll try," the receptionist said, sounding put off. I waited on the line for about 30 seconds before Mitch picked up.
"Pat! How's it going?"
"Not so good. Did I hear correctly that your receptionist said Chuck Pope was in there with you?" Chuck Pope was the Mason County engineer. All county buildings, construction and road projects fell under the purview of Chuck Pope and his office.
"Yes, he is, Pat. He and I were just having a discussion about all of the computer issues everyone seems to be having."
"Well, speak of the damned devil," I said. "That's exactly why I wanted to talk to you myself."
"Here, Pat, let me put you on speaker phone so we can all brainstorm a little bit."
"Afternoon, Pat," Chuck Pope said in his booming and gregarious voice. Chuck Pope was a big man, 6'3" and 250 pounds easily. He had played football as a defensive lineman at Kansas State University back in the 1980s.
"Hey, Chuck. You having the same issues we are?"
"Yeah, we're all stuck in this love boat, Pat. Any suggestions on how to deal with it?"
"Actually, I do," I said. "But first, do either of you know what Dean Strobe's status is?"
"Not sure what his issue is, Pat," Mitch answered. "I just know that he called in sick earlier this week and hasn't been back in the office since. He's been gone three days now."
"Any idea if he plans on coming back this week yet?"
"His assistant said no when I talked to her this morning," Chuck said. "She made it sound like he'd be gone all week."
"Well if that's the case," I continued, "I'd like to take matters into my own hands. If you gentlemen don't have a problem with it, I'm pretty sure I can get the problem taken care of and have us all back up and running within a matter of hours, maybe a day at the most."
"Do what you have to, Pat," Mitch replied. "Keep me posted. If you need to hire outside help, just make sure it is someone you can trust."
"I'll do that, Mitch. Is the contractor rate still the same or did it go up this year?"
"Same as last year, Pat," Mitch answered.
"Gotcha. Okay, I'll get working on this and things should be better by the time you all get to work in the morning."
"Sounds good, Pat," Mitch said.
"Take care, Pat. Good talking to ya," Chuck answered.
"Thanks guys," I said, hanging up.
My next action was to get Chris Hayes back into my office so I went out to his cubicle where he was bullshitting with two of his Deputies. I didn't mind since there wasn't much they could do and their shift would be ending at 15:30 anyway, so there was little point in sending them back out on patrol for another fifteen minutes since the next shift was already on duty, anyway.
"Chris? Can I chat with you for a minute?"
"Sure, Pat," he said. "I'll see you guys tomorrow," he said, finishing his chat with the two Deputies.
Once inside my office Chris said, "What'd ya find out, Pat?"
"Mitch happened to be talking with Chuck Pope, the county engineer, and they're all in the same bowl of shit soup we are. I told Mitch that I had a plan to get us all back on track if he'd let me bring in some outside help, to which he agreed. My question is, would Tonya be up for a little contractor work tonight?"
"Kinda late in the day, Pat. We were looking forward to just kinda chilling out tonight, ya know?"
"I get it and I'm sorry. But I kinda promised Chuck and Mitch that I'd do my best to have things back to normal by the time they got into work tomorrow. I promise you that she'll get the standard contract rate, which will be at time-and-a-half for after hours work."
"I know damned well if I say no that you'll still call her anyway. And there's no way she'll turn you down. Anybody else she'd tell to get fucked, but not her little Patty-Pie. So I guess I give you permission to call her," he said, defeated. "Just out of curiosity, what's the contractor rate, anyway?"
"I figured you'd want to know, you greedy bastard. The county lets us pay $60 an hour, but that will be time-and-a-half for everything after 4 pm."
"Jesus! Ninety bucks an hour? No way will she say no to that. I guess you can consider that your penance for fucking up my evening."
"Deal. Just call her and get her in here, ASAP."
Chris made the phone call to Tonya and told her the county was in dire straits with its computer and network situation. She, too, was a little irritated at the thought of giving up an evening alone with Chris. But, true to his word, she perked up when Chris told her that she would be doing me a personal favor by getting this whole situation un-fucked by morning.
I even shouted from the background while Chris was on the phone with Tonya that both Chris and I would be more than happy to stick around the sheriff's office for however long it took Tonya to get the issues taken care of, a comment that earned the old stink-eye look and a flip of the bird from Chris as I said it. Tonya was only too happy to agree to that and commented on how much fun we could have and what kind of trouble the three of us could get into.
The last comment, although totally expected, also was a very slight cause of concern as Tonya had previously intimated that there wasn't much in the way of rules when it came to her and Chris. Understanding that I made a quick phone call to my fiancée, Shannon Sullivan.
"Hey, babe! What's up?"
"Oh, not much, sweetheart. I just wanted to give you a quick call and let you know that I'm going to be working late tonight."
"Aw, seriously?"
"Yeah, I know. But I was wondering if you and Bridget might be interested in grabbing some pizza or Chinese and having supper with Chris, Tonya and me."
"Yes! Anything to see you! I'll pick up Munchkin from my mom and we'll grab some food on the way. We should be there around 7:30 or so. Will that be too late?"
"No, that should be fine. I'll let Chris and Tonya know that dinner's on us."
"It's a date, love! See you soon! I love you!"
"I love you, too, sweetheart!" And I hung up.
Tonya arrived 30 minutes after Chris called her and immediately got to work. She was able to use my own authorization and started my computer in safe mode to run what she called an administrator level diagnostic test of the network, whatever the hell that is.
Almost immediately she started spotting numerous technical glitches, software issues, firewall problems and a host of other computer and network issues that were way the hell over my head. A lot of it had to do with simple issues such as outdated firewall and virus protection but many of the problems were more severe. Tonya had us completely shut down all of the computers in our office and ordered us to shut down every county-owned computer in the county, if possible.
It was a monumental task that required me contacting everyone from the supervisors on down to the county treasurer, auditor, engineer and so on. It took me nearly an hour to get ahold of everyone that could make it happen. By 7 pm, we were fairly certain that all or most of the computers affected were shut off.
It was shortly after that point that Tonya ran into issues with the county Auditor's office and the county conservation office, which Tonya figured were most likely hardware issues that could be anything from malfunctioning equipment to a simple network connection that had come unplugged. She needed to get into both areas personally to see if she could diagnose and fix the problem.
The revelations about the hardware issues came about just as Shannon and Bridget showed up with food from the Golden Dragon, which was about as "haute cuisine" for local Chinese food as you could get in Red River Falls. Well, it was better than Mandarin Express over at the Red River Mall's food court, anyway.
"Patrick!" Bridget screeched as she ran to me for a big bear hug.
"Hey, kiddo! Thanks for coming to see me!"
"Mom said she missed you so we decided to bring you supper since we couldn't eat at home."
"That was very thoughtful of you and your awesome mom!"
"Hey, babe," Shannon cooed as she came over for a kiss.
"Hey yourself, gorgeous," I said. I set Bridget down and she proceeded to explore the room.
"Burning the midnight oil tonight?"
"It's all these damned computer issues," I explained. "Our Director of Information Technology, Dean Strobe, seems to be checking out on us. Not sure what has been going on with him, exactly. But he is one guy whose absence is definitely noticed by the entire county."
"Any idea what his problem is?"
"Not sure, love. But he's been calling in sick an awful lot. And even when he's not sick, he is almost impossible to get ahold of. Every time I see him he just looks like death warmed over. Hopefully, we'll get to the bottom of it soon."
"Good," Shannon said, kissing me deeply. "Because I have plans to make better use of your off-duty hours," she winked. Oh, the possibilities, indeed!
"Hey, Bridget. Run to the room next door and tell the man and woman in there that we have supper ready."
"Okay, Patrick," she said, scurrying off on her little mission.
Tonya and Chris both rushed into our cramped briefing and conference room when the cute little courier had told them dinner had arrived. In fact, Chris had Bridget on his shoulders as they came in.
"Tonya? I don't know that I've introduced you two or not, but this is my fiancée, Shannon Sullivan. Shannon, this is Tonya Hayes, Chris's wife."
"Hi, Shannon. I'm Tonya. My God! You are gorgeous!" Tonya gushed.
"Oh, thank you! You are absolutely stunning, yourself! I love all of your body art!"
"Thank you. Some of them aren't quite finished yet, but they will be soon. I consider myself a living, breathing canvas."
"Where did you have them all done?" Shannon asked.
"I got a few done while I was still going to MIT. But the rest of them I've gotten since I moved back to Red River Falls over at The Skin Graft. Do you have any tats?"
"Oh, no, I've never been quite that adventurous," Shannon blushed.
"Oh, my God! You have perfect skin and an amazing body! My favorite artist would have an absolute joygasm if he got to ink you!"
Chris Hayes and I just looked at each other and shook our heads as the two women exchanged pleasantries. I could tell that Shannon definitely found Tonya interesting and was the type of person who would accept a friend at face value, eccentricities and all. Tonya, on the other hand, was most definitely flirting with Shannon. Shannon might not have been flirting back with Tonya directly, but she was more than receptive to her charms.
"Let's eat," Chris bellowed, clapping his hands and simultaneously breaking the building chemistry between the two women. "Got any Szechuan chicken in there?"
"I got a variety," Shannon said. "I got moo shoo pork, cashew chicken, General Tso's chicken, sweet and sour chicken, lo mein, orange beef and Mongolian beef."
"Sounds yummilicious!" Tonya chimed in.
We dug into the various entrees while Bridget regaled us with her stories from college. She was now nearly 9 years old and a very precocious 3rd grader. She didn't care much for any of the entrees the adults were eating but opted for a chicken pot sticker and some noodles as well as the lion's share of the fortune cookies.
Chris and I mostly ate in silence as we listened to Shannon and Tonya talk and talk and talk throughout the meal. It was apparent that they were becoming fast friends and even more apparent that Tonya was developing a serious girl crush on Shannon, the thoughts and possibilities of which, I am ashamed to admit, were excruciatingly tantalizing.
Before we knew it the time had flown by and it was nearly 9 pm. Tonya still needed to get into the Auditor's office, which was easy enough as I could open it for her. The Auditor's office was located in the courthouse along with the Sheriff's office. However, the county conservation office was almost a mile away and I would need Alton Bergland to get access for us.
I gave Alton a call and let Tonya into the Auditor's office so she could do her stuff. Sure enough, there was a simple network cable that had become kinked and frayed. Fortunately, Tonya was able to fix it easily and solve the Auditor's problem quickly.
I said my goodnights to Shannon and Bridget and walked them to the car, thanking them both with hugs and kisses for bringing us all supper.
"See you at home soon?"
"Give me about an hour or so. Hopefully, I'll be home in time to watch the Tonight Show with you."
"It's a date! I love you," she said, kissing me goodbye.
"I love you, too. Be home in a bit!"
Alton Bergland met Tonya, Chris and I at the conservation office. I could tell he was a little miffed at having to come in but I also know that he would have been more miffed if his network was still down in the morning. Alton was the county conservation director and was in charge of a lot of agricultural programs and also ran the county park system.
"I sure as hell hope you get Dean straightened out for this," Alton chided me.
"Well, I'm not sure it's my job to get him straightened out. I consider Dean a friend, though, and I'll certainly be talking to him about this."
"Somebody needs to straighten his ass out, Pat."
"Oh, come on, Alton. Dean is usually the best there is at this sort of thing."
"You call this mess the best there is?!! You got a funny opinion on what doing a good job is, Pat. Dean doing a good job would mean my ass would be at home in bed instead of getting my computers fixed at 10 o'clock at night."
"I said usually, Alton. It has only been in the last month or so that things have gotten out of hand. Mitch wants to have a meeting with everyone at some point and we'll get to the bottom of things."
"We better," Alton gruffed, "or my foot is gonna find the bottom of Dean's ass!"
"Oh, whatever, Alton," I said blowing him off. "I'm gonna see how Tonya's coming along."

Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 02:50 PM

At that moment, both Chris and Tonya came to the front door announcing that the problem was fixed. Sure enough, a network connection had come unplugged but was in a location that would not have been easy to find.

"That's it? That's all there was to it?" Alton asked, incredulous.
"Yep. Pretty easy fix," Tonya said.
"Jesus," Alton said, shaking his head. "All that for a goddamned unplugged wire. You need to take care of this shit, Pat."
"Why is it my responsibility?"
"You just said he was a friend of yours. You sure as hell don't want me to have talk to him. There will be a lot less talking and a lot more ass whoopin' if I have to say something."
I just rolled my eyes at Alton and turned away.
"Hey, dammit! Don't you roll your goddamned eyes at me, Pat, or I'll -"
"You'll what?!!" I demanded. "You'll what?!!" Alton just froze. "Don't get all high and mighty with me, Alton. I have no idea what Dean's problem is but, yes, he is a friend of mine. And I'm going to do whatever I have to in order to help my friend. He's been a phenomenal IT guy for this county so far, at least until lately. So spare me your bullshit until we have an actual answer, okay?"
Alton took a deep breath. "Look, Pat, I was just -"
"You were just being a pompous ass, Alton. You're lucky you got appointed to your position and didn't have to face an election like most county officials. You'd never get elected to be the fucking dog catcher!"
Alton knew better than to say anything and just turned around to lock the conservation office and Chris, Tonya and I all headed to our cars.
"I can't thank you enough, Tonya."
"Oh, I can think of way, Patsy!" Chris just shook his head and unlocked his car.
"No, really, Tonya. You did us a huge favor."
"You're not out of the woods yet, Pat. There is still a lot more work to be done. Don't be surprised if your email is still goofed up. And I would seriously limit or eliminate the use of thumb drives as much as possible. Memory sticks are self-executing and spread viruses like the plague."
"Okay," I chuckled. "I'll do that."
We said our goodbyes and headed home for the night. True to my word, I was home in time to crawl into bed just as Jimmy Fallon took the stage for his opening monologue.
Even though it was a fairly warm spring night, I saw that Shannon was tucked under the covers, bedspread and all. That could only mean one thing. I stripped down to my boxers and crawled underneath the covers and was rewarded with the feel of my lover's smooth, naked body. She turned to me and our lips met in a steel melting kiss. She didn't waste any time stripping off my boxers and climbed on top, our lips and tongues enmeshed with one another the entire time.
Shannon was wet and primed and I slid in easily. I had been rock hard with anticipation ever since I left the conservation office. Eventually, she sat up, closed her eyes and rocked herself to a gentle first orgasm while I worked her clit with my thumb for extra stimulation. She then collapsed on me and we kissed for a while as I continued to slowly but firmly thrust in an out of her to keep her orgasm at a plateau.
I decided that I wanted to get a taste of her and I gently rolled her off of me. With each of us on our sides I lifted up her leg and took control of her pussy with my mouth as she swallowed me whole. It wasn't long before she started careening towards another body-quaking orgasm and she forcefully thrust my hips back and ejected my cock from her mouth.
I flipped around again and entered her missionary. Our fluid-covered lips met again in fury and lust and it wasn't long before I felt that familiar dull ache in my groin that signaled my balls were about to erupt. Shannon broke from our fervent kissing and began panting and moaning.
"Oh, yes, Patrick! Please cum for me! Fill me all the way up!" she panted.
"Oh, God, Shannon! You feel so damned good!" I groaned. My cock started spasming inside her and I unleashed a torrent of cum.
"God, I can feel you erupting inside me, Patrick! There's just so much!"
We lay there for several minutes, still locked in a carnal embrace. Both of us were completely spent.
We fell asleep shortly thereafter locked in each other's arms. But some time in the early morning hours I awoke and couldn't get back to sleep. I was troubled by what was going on with Dean Strobe and I was irritated that I hadn't yet found the source.
Dean was not the type of person to blow off his duties. He had always presented an appearance of polished professionalism. I had often wondered if his knowledge of and use of computers might rival Tonya's but that notion was definitely dispelled by his performance and actions as of late.
I finally fell asleep around three AM after deciding that I would definitely get to the bottom of things tomorrow.
Shannon was at work by seven the next morning and I helped Bridget get ready for college. She could have taken the bus but she always felt more important when I dropped her off at college in my fully marked Ford Expedition with the words 'Mason County Sheriff' emblazoned in reflective letters and striping down the side. Bridget loved it when I flipped on the emergency flashers and gave her a quick blurb or two from the siren as I pulled away from the curb.
As I arrived at the office I was greeted by my secretary, Karen Landingham.
"Pat? Mitch Monahan called just a moment ago. There is an emergency meeting scheduled downstairs in the supervisor's meeting room at 9 o'clock. All of the department heads and elected officials are requested to attend."
"Did Mitch say what it was about?"
Karen seemed apprehensive. "He said it pertained to Dean."
"Okay," I nodded, as I turned and headed into my office.
I checked my email first thing but, just as Tonya said, it appeared the email system was still fouled up. I had been hoping she would be able to fix it today but she said she had other business that would take up most of the day, plus she still needed to check in with her employees at the record and computer store she owned. The earliest she said she could help us wouldn't be until after four o'clock.
Part of me wondered if Chris Hayes hadn't told her to say that, just to keep her working at time-and-a-half instead of the standard rate. Oh, well. It was what it was and I couldn't really force her to do anything. Besides, as good as she was with computers, I'd take her help whenever we could get it.
At ten minutes to nine, I started making my way downstairs to the second level of the courthouse. The entire top fourth floor of the aging building belonged to the Sheriff's department, which is also where our crumbling jail was located. The Assessor, Auditor, Treasurer, Veterans Affairs Director, Recorder, Clerk of Court, Driver's License Station and County Attorney all had their offices scattered throughout the building. The two main court rooms, judge's chambers and the county supervisors' offices and meeting rooms were all located on the second floor of the building.
I did have one Deputy who worked in the basement of the building, too, and that was Deputy Lieutenant Amy Van Deekum who was in charge of the jail and also ran our property and evidence room. I was damned lucky to be able to find her the additional space and only because FEMA determined that the original fallout shelter no longer met federal standards. It was yet another of many headaches I would try to cure with the fall referendum for the new public safety center.
All of the elected officials and department heads were present and gathered at the tables, which had been arranged in a large square so everyone could see one another. At the far right and center was a spot that had been reserved for Dean Strobe. Damn! This was going to be like bringing a lamb to the slaughter. Everyone was pissed at Dean for what had been going on lately. I knew that Dean needed to be dealt with but I didn't think a public bitch session was the way to go about it.
Most everyone was casually visiting with each other when I had walked in and I could over hear the light chatting, which was almost entirely about Dean. I wouldn't consider Dean an extremely close friend but I would most definitely call him a friend. Considering how things were going for him lately, it was obvious I wasn't THAT kind of a friend that you call when you are going through a rough patch. But we were friends and Clarissa and I had traded dinners in our homes with Dean and his wife Mercedes back when Clarissa and I were still married.
Mitch asked everyone to take their seats and then announced that he would bring Dean in to speak with us. I was actually surprised, since Mitch had mentioned yesterday that he thought Dean was going to be out of the office for the remainder of the week. We all sat down and waited about a minute or two before Dean arrived with Mitch. The main entrance to the room was closed and signs posted that said, 'Closed Door Meeting in Session. No Admittance'.
Dean Strobe looked like hell. His clothing looked as if he slept in them last night, it was obvious that he hadn't showered today as his hair was completely unkempt and he hadn't shaved. He had every bit of the look of a defeated man about him and I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out why.
Dean was smart, decent-looking, personable but not arrogant. He was friendly but not boorish. He was a good conversationalist and very knowledgeable but not a ham. He was social but didn't need to be the center of attention. His wife, Mercedes, was very pretty and bubbly. They had two kids, a boy and a girl, and they had always seemed to be an idyllic family. Mercedes was definitely the more outgoing of the two and could get downright silly at parties, especially after a few glasses of wine or champagne.
By most accounts, you probably wouldn't picture the two of them together. Mercedes was definitely more the cheerleader type and Dean had a bit of a nerdy edge to him. But upon further thought, you realized that there wasn't really any good reason why the two of them shouldn't be together, either. I could only wonder if things in Dean's personal life were the root cause of his dramatic drop in his job performance.
"Dean," Mitch Monahan began, "I'm glad you were able to join us here for this meeting."
"I'm glad I could help," he said softly.
"Dean, the reason we have all gathered here this morning is because all of us have concerns regarding our network and each department's ability to use it. In particular we all have some questions and concerns we would like to address with you. It is the general consensus that numerous technical problems have seriously hampered our work and the mission of each county department. I'm going to go around the room as almost everyone has issues they would like to address directly. We'll start with County Treasurer, Ann Dunseth. Madam Treasurer?" This meeting was definitely ominous if Mitch was being this formal.
"Mr. Strobe," Ann began, keeping it heavy and formal. "We have been catching a lot of flack from the public because of ongoing issues with the network. Citizens come to our office daily to get licenses, renew licenses, and register vehicles and such. We have auto dealers who are very irate with us as they are losing sales because of issues with trying to title and register a new car with us - all because of ongoing problems with our computers.
"We have had to turn people away numerous times and ask them to return on a day when our system is functioning and pray that it is actually working when they return. People coming from Royal Fork on the far western part of the county have to drive forty-five minutes to get here. They get absolutely incensed when we turn them away. This doesn't even account for the problems it causes me and my staff in our regular work duties. Can you explain any of this?"
Dean fidgeted in his chair and it was obvious that he was struggling with something to say. "Uh, I, uh...I mean, Madam Treasurer, I'm aware that there are problems with the network. And I assure you that, uh, I am aware of your situation and have made it a priority to address those problems. As of this morning, the overall network seems to be running well and we got a lot of problems ironed out yesterday, uh, even though I was, uh, out of the office."
Mitch Monahan turned in his seat and looked at me directly for a moment. I caught the same gaze from Chuck Pope before both men returned their attention to Dean.
"Uh, along with that, uh, Madam Treasurer, I, uh, realize that there are still issues with the email and, uh, I intend to have those problems taken care of by this afternoon."
"Good!" Ann Dunseth said, with no small amount of edge in her voice. "Because my staff and I will be working this weekend to try and get caught up. It isn't fair of them to have to do that and I really don't have a lot of wiggle room in my own budget for the over time I'm going to have to pay."
"I apologize again, Madam Treasurer."
Next up was the county auditor, followed by the assessor and the behind-closed-doors flogging continued. Dean Strobe sat there the entire time meekly answering questions and giving canned answers - I'll take care of it; it's on my to-do list for this afternoon; I'll make it the highest priority - Dean did his best to tell everyone what they wanted to hear. But his demeanor and appearance belied his stated intentions.
All I could think as I was sitting there was that it felt like we were making fun of a dying cancer patient or something. Instead of finding out if Dean had some genuine problem that we could help him with all anyone did was focus on their own problems and worry about when Dean was going to get around to finding a solution. But I didn't have to participate in this directly and I had no intentions to.
Most of the people in the room were, like me, elected officials. They had reputations and public images they needed to uphold in order to keep their positions. Snafus in their office, even those related to Dean, could pose problems for the next election and give an opponent plenty of fodder for how poorly that particular office was being run. Dean's glaring personal problems were a political liability and had to be quashed. The thought alone sickened me.
"Sheriff?" Mitch Monahan finally asked when everyone else was finished. "You haven't said anything yet. Do you have any questions or concerns for Dean you'd like to address?"
I glared at Mitch for a moment or two, causing him to narrow his eyes in defense. "No," I finally said. "I have some questions for Dean but I'd prefer to speak with him directly."
"Uh...very well, then," Mitch said, sheepishly. "Well, if there are no more questions or comments I'd like to thank everyone for their time. And Dean, I hope that we can get these problems cleared up quickly so additional measures can be avoided." The last statement had most everyone in the room but me nodding their head in agreement. They were all seething at Dean, including Mitch.
I was bugged and irritated by the tech problems we were having. Sure, they were a major inconvenience. But I prided myself on the fact that I always regarded the people working for me as my greatest asset. Dean wasn't a direct employee of mine but he still did a lot of work for our office and I felt somewhat responsible for him. But he did not, in any way, deserve the humiliation that he was just subjected to. He quickly left the room looking more deflated than ever.
Meredith Alcorn, Mason County Recorder, was the last one to leave the room before Mitch and me, which left just the two of us.
"Well," Mitch breathed as he stuffed his laptop back in its case. "I thought that went pretty well. Hopefully things will improve, huh?"
"What, are you fucking kidding me?"
Mitch stopped. "What? I thought you wanted this problem solved, too."
"I do, Mitch. But not like this."
"I don't follow."
"All we did was humiliate the living shit out of a good man today, Mitch. Dean has been a loyal and dedicated employee for this county ever since he got here."
"Dedication is fine, Pat, but poor performance affects us all. You should know that as well as anybody."
"Did it ever occur to you that maybe there is a reason for all of this? Dean is absolutely incapable of being incompetent unless something is really, really bothering him. Did it ever cross your mind to maybe ask him if there is a problem? Anything we can help him with?"
"Dean's been an employee of this county for a while, Pat. He should be very familiar with the benefits and services that are provided to county employees, including our employee assistance program. He can get free and confidential help any time he needs."
"Lots of people don't ask for help, even when they really need it."
"We can only offer the help, Pat. We can't make him use it."
"Wow, Mitch. I really like to think we're better than that."
Mitch let out a sigh of frustration. "All I know Pat is that we have a severely underperforming employee and one that EVERYONE in this county depends on a great deal. I need you to be a friend here, Pat, and support us on this. If Dean doesn't get his crap together, we are going to have to fire his ass. And this particular stick of dynamite has a damned short fuse, if you get my drift."
"And all I know, Mitch," I said, walking up to him and staring him eye to eye, "is that if you ever...ever...EVER publicly humiliate and assassinate another long time county employee like that again, I am seriously going to punch you...in your fucking... throat!" I headed out the door to the meeting room, turned one last time for emphasis and said, "your fucking THROAT!"
I just hope the poor bastard didn't trip over his own jaw when he finally collected himself enough to leave.
*****
It was a good thing that the meeting took place on Friday because I really needed to have a weekend off. True to his word, Dean managed to get the email system back up and running again. However, he left as soon as that was done and subsequently failed to get some long-awaited software installed in the system for the county Veterans Affairs office, which royally pissed off the VA administrator. No sooner had Dean solved one of his problems than he had dug another hole for himself elsewhere.
There wasn't much I could do so I was determined as hell to enjoy the Memorial Day weekend and the unofficial start of summer.
Every village, town and city in the Midwest has their own local holiday or festival and Red River Falls was certainly no exception. Every year, on Memorial Day weekend, the entire downtown area of Red River Falls shuts down for The Great Gateway Festival. The Great Gateway Festival harkens back to the days when Red River Falls was founded and served as a gateway on the pioneer trails leading to the great northwest territories of Wyoming, Montana and Oregon.
The festival consisted of a massive parade, a huge carnival that completely encompassed the park located at the central square, and numerous other events. There was a Civil War reenactment in a nearby park, as well as a huge Barbecue competition. A band shell was set up on one of the closed off streets and there were street dances held on Friday, Saturday and Sunday night.
Shannon and I decided to take her daughter Bridget and my boys, Nick and Jake, and catch some of the events of the festival, starting with the parade Saturday morning. The weather was absolutely perfect, the streets were lined with thousands of spectators and I actually was able to enjoy myself.
The Red River Falls security officer department provided most of the staffing for the three day festival with only minor auxiliary staffing coming from my department as well as most of our reserve deputies, the security officer reserves and the Civilian Emergency Response Team. Besides, Chief Roy Banks detested having to work any closer with the sheriff's department than he absolutely had to - a grudge that went back to the days of my predecessor, Sheriff William "Bud" Roberts.

Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 02:51 PM

The parade was enjoyable and entertaining. There were a few very well done floats but the majority of entries were local businesses who used the parade for free advertising. Personally, I enjoyed a lot of the antique cars, tractors and equestrian entries. The parade was so long that it lasted for well over two hours.

Afterwards Shannon, Nick, Jake, Bridget and I headed over to the huge carnival to sample some food, rides and games. We had just gotten there when our group ran into some unexpected company.
"Patrick?" I turned to see that it was none other than my ex-wife, Clarissa.
"Clarissa," I said, smiling and feigning some charm. "What a surprise."
"Mom!" The boys ran over and each hugged her simultaneously, which elicited a smile that actually resembled joy, though somewhat melancholy, too.
"Hey, boys! What a neat surprise!"
"We just got done watching the parade and we're going to the carnival. Wanna come along?" Jake asked eagerly.
"I'd love to, but I'm waiting for some people. We'll be over in a few minutes, okay?"
"Okay, Mom," Nick answered.
"Here, Nick," I said, handing him a twenty dollar bill. "Why don't you go get some ride tickets and we'll be over in a bit, too. Take Bridget with you and take her on a ride, too."
"Sweet! Thanks, Dad! See you over there, Mom!" And they all three ran off like a shot.
"Bye, Mom!" Bridget called back to Shannon. The three kids absolutely adored each other. I hoped it would last as Nick and Jake seemed genuinely protective of Bridget and viewed her as a little sister.
"We'll meet you by the bumper cars," I yelled after them. "And, Nick, make sure you share with your brother and Bridget!"
I turned back towards Clarissa. It dawned on me that Clarissa and Shannon had never met.
"Clarissa," I started, sheepishly, "this is Shannon Sullivan...my fiancée. Bridget is her little girl."
Clarissa smiled but I could tell she bristled a bit when I said fiancée. "It's very nice to meet you, Shannon. I've heard many good things about you from Nick and Jake and they adore Bridget. She's the spitting image of you."
"Thank you, Clarissa," Shannon said. "Nick and Jake are absolutely awesome young men. I can tell you are an incredible mom."
"Thank you, Shannon. And I just have to say that you are stunningly beautiful."
"Thank you," Shannon blushed. "I was just gonna say you look amazing yourself," she gushed.
I distinctly remember another conversation earlier this week that sounded eerily similar when I introduced Shannon to Tonya Fulbright-Hayes. I really, really, really hoped that my ex-wife wasn't about to start crushing on my new fiancée. That could be incredibly awkward.
And incredibly cool in away, I suppose.
"You said you were waiting for some people?" I interjected, hoping to chill the girl talk.
"Yes. Actually," Clarissa said. "Here they come now."
Oh, shit. I looked in the direction that Clarissa was and was absolutely floored to see who was approaching. It was none other than my former mother-in-law, Ms. Caroline Bennett and her significant other, Martin Belmond.
I was actually genuinely surprised, in a good way, to see those two. The third member of the party was someone I was NOT happy to see. And that individual was a gentleman by the name of Tom Wellington, a local businessman and the man who ran against me in my inaugural run for sheriff.
"Patrick! My God! Is it really you?" Caroline rushed up and embraced me firmly.
"Yes, it is," I replied, forcing the air out of my lungs from her bear hug.
"You look absolutely incredible."
"Thank you, Caroline. I'd like to introduce you to my fiancée, Shannon Sullivan."
"My goodness, you're beautiful! Pleasure to meet you," was all she could say.
"Thank you so much!" Shannon blushed.
"Where are my handsome grandsons?" Caroline demanded.
"They ran ahead of us over to the carnival. I think they wanted to get a head start on the fun."
"Patrick!" Martin Belmond extended his hand to me and I shook it eagerly. I genuinely liked this man. "I was sincerely hoping we'd get a chance to run into you on our visit. It's quite fortuitous that we got to meet."
"It is indeed, it is indeed. Martin," I said, turning toward Shannon, "I already introduced Caroline but this is my fiancée, Shannon Sullivan. Her little girl, Bridget, ran ahead with Nick and Jake over to the carnival."
"A pleasure, Shannon," Martin said, extending his hand.
"Likewise," Shannon said.
"It is very nice to meet you, Shannon," Caroline said, shaking hands too. "Nick and Jake absolutely raved about you when they visited us at Easter."
"I absolutely adore your grandsons, too, Ms Bennett," Shannon replied.
"Oh, stop with the formalities!" Caroline half-chided, smiling. "Please call me Caroline."
"Okay, thank you, Caroline."
"Well, well, well," Tom Wellington said, strolling up behind Clarissa and placing his arm around her waist as a sign of male ownership. "If it isn't our esteemed sheriff."
"Hello, Tom," I mustered. It was all I could do to be polite. The idea of Clarissa dating someone had crossed my mind often and the thought never bothered me. At least, that is, it didn't bother me until I heard that she began dating Tom Wellington. Tom was a man that I could only describe as a cooty. He was a fairly successful local businessman who apparently thought that business success could automatically equate to being sheriff. After all, being a cop can't be that hard, can it?
"So what brings the good sheriff out of his office high atop the courthouse on this lovely day?" God, he was a condescending prick.
"The same as you, Tom. Just enjoying the festival along with my family. By the way, allow me to introduce you to my fiancée, Shannon Sullivan."
The next moment was priceless for me. My ex-wife, Clarissa, was still a very good-looking woman at 5'6", blond hair that she had obviously recently re-colored, and possessed a trim athletic body. But Clarissa couldn't hold a candle to Shannon's statuesque 5'10" frame, perfect hour glass shape and incredible D cup breasts and gorgeous face and complexion. The cocky 'cat-who-ate-the-canary' look Tom had on his face while trying to flaunt his relationship with Clarissa quickly disappeared when he took in the site of Shannon. The fact that Shannon had on a white cotton tank top, Daisy Dukes and a pair of stylish flip-flops showing off her freshly painted nails was enough to stop any man dead in his tracks.
Best of all? Clarissa saw and immediately gave Tom a death stare.
"Pleased to meet you, Shannon," Tom said, offering his hand and wearing a really stupid grin. He just went from successful businessman to Neanderthal in one fell swoop.
"Come on," Caroline said, breaking the ice. "Let's all stroll over to the carnival and see what the kids are up to. It will give us girls a chance to get to know one another."
"I'd like that," Shannon said.
"Me, too," Clarissa said, softening a bit. But not before she gave Tom another glare.
Tom Wellington kept pace with Clarissa, the two of them holding hands. But Clarissa didn't appear to be any more comfortable with even the slightest public displays of affection than she had been when we were married. It looked as though she tolerated it with Tom but not much more than that. I hope the poor bastard knows what he's getting himself into.
Martin Belmond and I slowly sauntered our way over to the carnival behind the girls and Tom. Doing so gave us a chance to catch up a bit on our own.
"So how are you and Caroline doing these days?"
"Well, it's funny you should ask that question, Patrick. Things are going quite well for us. There have been some new and interesting developments that have really taken our relationship to another level, I must say."
"Terrific! You look great, by the way. Considerably slimmer than the last time we met in Minneapolis."
"Indeed. I've lost over 60 pounds. In fact, because of my newfound health, my physician has been able to drastically cut back on many of the various heart mediations I had been taking. In fact, I'm also no longer taking insulin for my diabetes but am able to control it with diet, exercise and non-insulin medications. I feel better than I have in years, Patrick."
"That's incredible, Martin."
"Yes, it is. And, if I may get a bit more personal, it has also resulted in my physician being able to finally prescribe some medications that have allowed Caroline and me to enjoy a physical relationship now instead of just a deeply emotional one."
"Really?" I was genuinely surprised, mostly because of Martin sharing this with me than anything. Thank God for modern medicine, I suppose.
"It isn't perfect, by any means. Sometimes it works well, sometimes not as much. But it has at least taken that part of our relationship from non-existent to at least occasional."
We continued to stroll along with the others towards the festival. People could probably hear us but no one was paying attention, too absorbed they were in the sights and sounds of the festival.
"Of course," he continued, "I still allow Caroline to enjoy certain proclivities outside of our own bedroom activities. While we are able to consummate our feelings for one another on occasion, it certainly isn't frequent enough to truly keep a woman as vivacious as Caroline completely satisfied. She limits her activities and enjoys them only with individuals who are thoroughly vetted by people I trust to ensure safety and the utmost discretion."
"With all due respect, Martin, how does that make you feel?"
"Patrick, you're an incredibly intelligent man, even though you don't give yourself enough credit for it. So permit me to pay you the compliment of being blunt even at the risk of sounding brash and arrogant. I'm a self-made man, Patrick. I made my first million less than eighteen months after graduating from the Wharton college of Business. Ten years later, I surpassed a net worth of 100 million dollars.
"Now, I'm sitting at a comfortable net worth of nearly 650 million dollars and it continues to grow daily. I've accomplished everything that I ever set out to do. In short, Patrick, I have nothing to prove to any man on what it means to be a success in life and I need validation or approval from no one."
"I understand," I said.
"I knew you would, Patrick. So when it comes to my relationship with Caroline, I take comfort in knowing that I can provide a life for Caroline that she never could have dreamed of with any other man. And, in a very real way, I still can provide the sexual fulfillment that she needs - whether it's with me or someone of my choosing."
"I have to say I admire you for that, Martin. I'm not sure I could be so trusting and confident in that regard."
"Things change as we get older, Patrick. I've learned to look at things from a different perspective. My first wife, Sophie, died of cancer, as you well know. I have the relationship with Caroline that I do because of the relationship that I had with Sophie. Sophie and I did it right. I loved her from the moment I met her until the day she passed away in my arms in that hospital bed.
"I care for Caroline, deeply. I'm quite sincere in that regard. But Sophie will always be my wife, in my mind. Sophie was truly my soul mate. Caroline and I can be something special when we are together. But we can also remain confident and secure in our relationship with one another even when we're apart. I deny her nothing and expect only her love and companionship. I'll provide everything else she needs."
"You're an amazing man, Martin."
"Caroline and I both think you're an amazing man, too, Patrick. Caroline still thinks quite highly of you. She was genuinely pained by what happened between you and Clarissa. She truly felt you deserved better. Neither Caroline nor I hold Tom Wellington in as high esteem as we do you, Patrick. For what it is worth, you will always be very special to Caroline."
"Thank you, Martin. That means a lot."
We continued our stroll towards the carnival to catch up with the ladies and Tom. They had managed to gain quite a lead on us as Martin and I visited.
"So, how are things in the ever exciting world of law enforcement?"
"Things are going well, I must say."
"I imagine it is quite different being the king instead of a pawn, so to speak."
"Yeah," I chuckled, "it definitely is. But in a good way. I'm currently putting together my budget for next year as well as a proposal for a new public safety center that I am hoping can get put up for a public referendum either this year or next. This year might be pushing it, but I can always hope."
"What does this new facility consist of? And is there any way I can help to bring it to fruition?"
"Well, since you ask, it would be a multi-department facility that would house a new sheriff's office, a Red River Falls security officer headquarters, and a new fire station for the city of Red River Falls. Additionally, it would also contain a new county jail that would increase our capacity from 40 inmates to nearly 300 inmates. It would be a facility that could potentially serve the needs of many interests. We have also looked at incorporating a public wellness and recreation center, as well, and the National Guard is even considering attaching a new armory to the complex."
"Sounds quite ambitious, I must say," Martin said.
"It is. It is going to take a lot of politicking to get it done. Even though I hold an elected office I've never been much of a politician."
"Everyone finds themselves a politician from time to time, whether we like it or not," Martin mused.
"I would agree. I just don't have much of a taste for it."
"Have you got a plan for financing it?"
"Well, I'm off to a start as we qualified for a Federal Emergency Management Agency grant by incorporating a public emergency shelter in the facility. That grant alone will help offset the cost by nearly $3 million. But we have a ways to go on the rest."
"How much do you think it will cost by the time it is completed?"
I let out a long sigh. "All told, it will probably cost between $30 and $40 million by the time it is done."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked.
"Yeah," I chuckled. "Can you give me a grant?"
"Absolutely, I can give you a grant, Patrick. If you'll allow me to, I can have your public safety center completed in a year. I have made it a point to support numerous public safety agencies with my charitable foundation over the years and have purchased needed equipment and facilities for many departments."
"That sounds amazing, Martin. And I truly would welcome the help. But I couldn't ask you to pay for more than half of it. I feel strongly that the public needs to take some ownership of it as well."
"I agree also, Patrick, and for the exact same reason. If given too much, some individuals will expect it every time and will do nothing to merit it."
We arrived at the carnival and met up with everyone near the bumper cars. Nick and Bridget were riding in a car together while Jake rode by himself. Judging by the smiles and screams and laughter, they were having the time of their lives.
"Well," I said, extending my hand to Martin, "this has been one of the most promising and productive walks of my life. I want to thank you for your generous offer. And I would like to submit an actual proposal for a grant, too, just to make it official. I want you to know every last detail about the project from the moment we break ground to the minute the paint dries."
"I'd like that, Patrick. Any time you need anything, please don't hesitate to call."
"Thank you, Martin."
"It was nice seeing you all," Clarissa said, "but I think we're going to head over to Riverside Park to catch the arts and crafts fair. I said goodbye to the boys already. I'll pick them up later this afternoon around four. We're going to join Mom and Martin at their lake home on Lake Osakis, if that's all right with you."
"Absolutely," I said. "I'm sure Nick and Jake will have a blast."
Clarissa gave me a somewhat sad smile and turned towards Shannon. "It was very nice to meet you, Shannon." And then, unexpectedly, Clarissa leaned in for a hug from Shannon. It was a longer embrace and I could tell that Clarissa was whispering something in Shannon's ear.
Once Clarissa and her group had left, my curiosity got the best of me.
"What the hell was that all about?" I demanded.
"Relax, Patrick. Clarissa and her mother were both incredibly nice."
"Even so, what was with the chick hug?"
"Patrick, she told me that it was nice meeting me and that your boys both adore me. Then she made me promise her that I wouldn't treat you the way she did."
Mind...blown.
"Really? She said that?"
"Maybe she's learned her lesson, Patrick. Maybe she isn't the cold heartless bitch she used to be. Give her a break. She's still your kids' mom."
"Yeah, I suppose you're right," I said, softening a bit.
"And, by the way, I can only hope that I look as good as your former mother-in-law does when I'm her age."
"Yeah, me too," I laughed, hugging her and squeezing her.
"I'm sure you do, Mister Quinn, you evil seducer of mothers-in-law. I sure hope you don't lust after my own mom that way!"
"Not a chance, although your mother is very hot for her age."
"Oh, my god! You DO lust after her!"
"Not gonna happen, babe. Not in a million years. You're the only one I lust after from here on out!"
It was true. I had, indeed, previously been seduced by, and subsequently seduced, my own mother-in-law. It was well after my then-wife Clarissa had been deep into a long-term affair with my predecessor and previous boss, Sheriff Bud Roberts. Probably doesn't justify my behavior, it was just one more bad decision of many bad decisions that were made by quite a few people back then.
And, yes, I had confessed everything to Shannon after we had started seeing each other. We agreed that we wanted to be completely transparent with one another. So one evening, over some great food and a bottle of wine, we completely cleared the air on our respective sexual histories with the ground rule that we would remain completely open-minded and non-judgmental. It was also with the understanding that once spoken and out in the open it was not allowed to be fodder for any future arguments.
With Shannon, her side of the conversation was pretty simple. She had only been with one partner previous to me and that was Bridget's father, William Raymond Jackson. And I actually had the dubious honor of being able to say that I had killed the one previous sexual partner of Shannon's, which I had done after he had attempted to kidnap his own daughter.
My confession took a little longer and was fairly pedestrian for a guy, or so I thought. At least that was until I got to the part of Caroline and I. Shannon had sat on the edge of her seat as I told her of my brief and torrid affair with Caroline. To my surprise she eagerly asked questions, some of them quite detailed and intimate. I held back nothing. I figured if this was my one chance to get it out in the open, then I wanted Shannon to have absolutely no doubt in her mind about what happened and the fact that it would never happen again.
Nothing sexual happened between Shannon and I that evening. I think it took her a while to digest everything she had heard. But a few nights later, Shannon was absolutely insatiable and literally tried to fuck me into another dimension. Moreover, she was pretty much that way for the remainder of the week and for the week after, too. Our lovemaking was still pretty raucous but not like it had been after my confession.
Now that she had met Caroline face-to-face I could only hope that perhaps it had sparked something yet again in Shannon to repeat those amazing two weeks.

Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 02:53 PM

The three kids got done with their bumper car ride and immediately asked to go get some cotton candy, corn dogs and sodas, to which I figured 'why the hell not'?

On our way to the food stands I caught site of something incredibly odd. I saw Dean Strobe walking around with his two children, Brandon and Brynne. The kids appeared happy but Dean still had the appearance of having just lost his best friend.
But weirdest of all was the fact that walking behind Dean and his kids was Dean's wife, Mercedes, walking arm in arm with another man. And if memory served me, it was someone absolutely no damned good - Brad Weston.
Brad Weston was nothing short of an opportunist and a snake in the grass. He was one of those men who had a reputation and it wasn't a good one. I'd have to say that most women would probably find him physically attractive but I would hope like hell that his personality and general attitude towards women would be one hell of a turnoff.
Dean saw me standing there. He looked at me and just nodded me a 'hello' and kept on walking with the kids. The kids seemed happier but not by much and were at least distracted by the games and rides and Dean steered them in the direction of a ticket booth.
Mercedes and Brad saw Shannon and me and immediately walked over to us giggling like teenagers.
"Hey, Shannon!"
"Hi, Mercedes." Shannon smiled but it was obviously forced.
"Hello, Pat. I don't think I've seen you since you got elected sheriff. Congratulations!"
"Thank you, Mercedes," I said, forcing a smile. I was still trying to figure out what the hell was going on with her, Brad and Dean. Whatever the hell it was Mercedes and Brad seemed to be all for it while Dean was the odd man out. "Funny we should all run into each other like this."
"Totally! Brad decided to come over and hang out with us for the day and we all decided to have some fun at the carnival."
"So how do you like being the head motherfucker in charge now, Pat?" Brad asked me with a shit-eating grin with a punch to my left arm. I could see Shannon was taken aback by the crude remark. Brad was also ogling Shannon from head to toe, which made me want to crush his windpipe.
"So far so good. It has its ups and downs just like any job. But I'm happy to be able to serve the people of this county," I said, rehashing a line from my campaign.
"Yeah, except now you can kick some serious ass and pretty much do whatever you want, right?"
"Well, Brad, even the sheriff is not above the law," which was true, even though I had bent more than a few rules in the past to save my ass and protect the public interest. "By the way, where did Dean and the kids go?"
Mercedes' demeanor sagged a bit. "Oh, I think they went to get tickets for the rides. We should probably catch up. Nice seeing you all!"
"See ya later, sheriff!" Brad said, punching me on the shoulder again. I simply returned a half-smile and a nod. I really didn't like the way he had been eye fucking Shannon while we talked.
When they were out of ear shot I looked at Shannon and said, "How exactly do you know Mercedes?"
"She's on one of the hospital foundation committees."
"What was the deal with Brad Weston?"
"I have no idea," she said. "This isn't the first time I've seen them together, though. But it is the first time that I've seen them together like that with Dean and the kids around."
"I think I have a better idea of what Dean's problem is," I said to Shannon who nodded back.
"Brad Weston is trouble, I can certainly tell you that. He has a real preference for the ladies, especially those who wear a ring on their finger," Shannon added, pointing to her engagement ring.
"Well, let's get the kids a bite to eat and have some more fun," I said, changing the subject.
I did look back one more time and saw Dean Strobe standing along the fence surrounding the Tilt-A-Whirl that his kids were riding. Mercedes and Brad continued to stroll along the midway, only now they were overtly holding hands. Dean appeared to be staring at them longingly and then caught site of me staring at him. I nodded to him and gave him a wave, which he returned before turning his attention back towards his kids.
We spent nearly two hours at the carnival, eventually just caving in and buying the kids the unlimited rides wrist bands. I also farted off nearly $150 on carnival games for the kids, making sure that each of them brought home a prize or a stuffed animal that they could have bought for a total of about $20 in any store. But they were happy and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.
It really didn't even bother me that much that Clarissa and Shannon seemed to have gotten along so well. Maybe I had underestimated Clarissa's ability to change back to the girl she was when I first knew her. Although I could never trust myself enough to allow me to love her romantically again, perhaps I could at least learn to trust her as a friend. She was still the mother of my two boys and I wouldn't change that for anything.
I had been chatting with a friend of mine, Neil Lomax, while Shannon followed the kids around the carnival. As soon as Neil and I were finished, Tom Wellington showed up and managed to really spoil my otherwise fantastic mood.
"Are the kids enjoying the carnival?" he asked.
"They're having a ball," I said, trying to be polite. "Where's Clarissa and the rest?"
"They're still over at the craft show and getting ready to head over to the Civil War re-enactment. Apparently, Martin is a history buff."
"What brings you back this way?"
"I have some other appointments on my schedule this weekend, Pat. I have a business to run and don't have the luxury of working government hours."
I bit my tongue - for the moment at least.
"So I hear through the gbangvine that you have a grand vision of replacing the sheriff's department with some palatial structure on the north end of down town." Tom was talking unusually loud for a one-on-one conversation. As I glanced around, I could see people looking at us and it dawned on me what he was trying to do. He wanted an audience.
"We are looking at ways of improving our facilities and delivering better service to the people of Mason County, yes."
"At a cost of $30 or $40 million dollars?" he asked, smirking.
"Well, Tom, I'm not sure you can really put a price tag on public safety, can you?"
Tom's smirk disappeared. "I think part of a sheriff's job ought to be wise stewardship of the public funds, Pat. Don't you?"
"I can assure you that a new public safety center will be an exceptionally good use of public funds and will, over time, actually contribute to a steady decrease in operating costs, compared to what we're doing now."
"How can you possibly find some kind of a net margin in a $40 million project that has absolutely no hope of generating any kind of a profit? That's just not good business, Pat."
Jesus, I wanted to gut this guy like a fish right about now. "I realize, Sheriff, that you don't have any experience working in the private sector," he droned on, "but I do. And I think fiscal responsibility has to be one of your top priorities."
"My top priority, Tom, is protecting the public. That is what the sheriff's office is for," I emphasized. I had to tell myself over and over not to let this guy get the best of me.
"I should think you could improve your facilities for half of that, Pat. Focus on the sheriff's office, that's your jurisdiction. All the rest of this nonsense in your proposal is just pork. And there's enough pork in your proposal to make everyone at this carnival a ham sandwich." Tom's jibe actually got a few people laughing, which really irritated me.
"Well, that's your opinion. But my proposal is going to go forward as is because it is the right thing to do. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back to spending time with my family."
"You're going to force me to run for sheriff again, Pat," he said as I walked away.
I just pretended I didn't even hear the remark and headed back towards Shannon and the kids. I could hear a random citizen tell Tom, "Way to go, Tom! You tell 'em!"
Shannon and the kids were near the Ferris Wheel and munching on funnel cake. "Hey, babe. Hang out with the kids for a few minutes, would ya? I gotta go chew on a guy's ear about something important. I'll be back in a bit."
"Okay," she said, kissing me quick. "Hurry back, though, okay? The kids want to go on a few rides with you."
"Count on it!"
I made my way back towards the spot where Tom Wellington and I had just had our exchange and I could see him walking down the street towards the edge of the carnival. I speed walked to catch up to him but not so much as to draw attention. I followed him a short ways and scouted out areas that I could get him out of the public eye, if possible.
When Tom was running against me for sheriff, I had Tonya do a little off-the-books research on Tom's background and was startled by what I found. I didn't use the information at the time, since I was so sure I was going to win the election that I didn't think it was really necessary. However, since the election, Tom had been trying to make a bit of a name for himself by serving as a one-man watchdog against the sheriff's office.
He had been questioning every move I had made, every dollar I spent, and it was starting to get annoying. The fact that people had reacted to our brief conversation told me that people might actually listen to Tom and his half-assed ideas about how to run a law enforcement agency if he decided to run against me in the next election.
Contrary to most people's beliefs, you don't actually have to be a certified law enforcement officer to run for sheriff. All you have to do is win and take a very abbreviated course from the state law enforcement academy within your first six months on the job.
Tom took a shortcut through an alley near down town, presumably to head back to his car that was probably parked near his down town office. To my amazement, he was actually listening to an MP3 player as he strolled and never heard me approach from behind. There was absolutely no one around to even watch us.
I grabbed Tom by the shoulders, spun him around and then shoved him forcefully up against the brick wall of one of the building lining the alley.
Tom quickly yanked out his ear buds. "What are you doing?!" he demanded.
"The question is, what the hell are you doing?"
"I'm walking back to my vehicle sheriff. Is that a crime?"
"I'm not talking about now. I'm talking about your little stump speech back at the carnival."
"Is it wrong for an ordinary citizen to question the activities of our elected officials? I'm pretty sure that's what the Constitution is all about, sheriff!"
I leaned in closer. "I'm only going to say this once, Tom. Back...the fuck...off!"
Tom smirked and chuckled. "Is that some kind of a threat, Pat? Get me in a dark alley and threaten me? If you think that's going to silence me then you've obviously greatly underestimated me."
"Threaten you? No, Tom. I'm not going to threaten you. I have no time for threats. They're meaningless. I'm here to make you a promise."
"A threat? A promise? Coming from you, Pat, it's the same thing."
"Bullshit. A threat would be me telling you I'm going to bitch slap you right across the face and then not following through on it. A promise, on the other hand, is me telling you that I'm going to bitch slap you right across the face and then..." SMACK! came the sound as my right hand made contact with the left side of his face, "actually DOING it. Do you understand the difference now, Tom?"
Tom reached down and picked up his dark rimmed glasses that my hand had wiped clean off his face while he gently caressed the left side of his face.
"You...you just...you just assaulted me, Pat!" he seethed. He was also scared shitless.
"Nah. That was me just doing you a little favor."
"How is that doing me a favor? I could sue the absolute HELL out of you for this!"
"Yes, you could. But you won't," I said calmly.
"What's going to stop me?" he demanded, struggling to keep his growing rage and fear under control.
"I am," I said, menacingly, as I moved just inches from him. "You see, Tom, I have a serious problem with local businessmen who think they can run a law enforcement agency better than me just because they happen to be a semi-successful entrepreneur."
"I'm a damned successful businessman," he spat.
"That's your opinion. But the fact remains that you don't have a damned clue how to run the sheriff's office. The citizens of this county need this new public safety center. The security officer outgrew their offices years ago. The fire department operates in a building that has been added onto like a jigsaw puzzle from when it was built during the time they still used horses.
"And I don't need some jackass to come along and try and talk the public out of voting for this plan - a jackass like you!"
Tom was still trying to regain his composure. "And what makes you think I'll stay quiet about this, Pat?"
"McKinness Deerfield."
Tom's eyes narrowed. "McKinness Deerfield? What the hell does that have to do with anything?"
It was time to drop a bomb of reality on Tom Wellington. "You had a growth fund that you started in your office that was stocked around 90 percent with shares of McKinness Deerfield."
"So? I'm a financial planner and securities trader, Pat. I have numerous funds that my clients purchase shares of for their retirement plans."
"Yes, you do," I continued. "But McKinness Deerfield was different. McKinness Deerfield was once one of the fastest growing energy companies in the country, having developed numerous and highly profitable oil fields up in North Dakota and highly profitable gas fields out in Wyoming."
"What does their success have to do with this, Pat?"
"It has to do with you, Tom. I know for a fact that you graduated from the University of Oklahoma with Derrick McKinness, the CEO of McKinness Deerfield and the son of the co-founder of the company, Devlin McKinness. You and Derrick also happened to be fraternity brothers in Tau Kappa Epsilon.
"Furthermore," I continued, "I happen to know that you and Derrick McKinness continued to remain quite close over the years. I also happen to know that you owned almost forty percent of the McKinness Deerfield stock in your growth fund."
Tom was calming quickly. I could tell that he was amazed by how much I knew about his McKinness Deerfield connections, although he tried to throw me off. "What do you think you know about my investment funds, Pat? I've never seen you in my office. You've never bought one piece of stock from me! How could you possibly know anything about my business?"
"Because I make it my business to know these things, Tom. And because of the fact that two of my deputies, Lance Bowe and Russ Daniels happened to buy into that stock and lost over $10,000 each. That might not be a lot of money to you, Tom, but it's a helluva lot for a law enforcement officer.
"Last fall, just before the election, McKinness Deerfield unexpectedly filed for bankruptcy. It all centered on a major embezzlement that was perpetrated by none other than Devlin McKinness, the co-founder himself. He's in his mid-80s and knew damned well he was never going to see the inside of a prison cell at his age and state of health."
"Big deal, Pat. That made news around the country. You're not telling me anything that everyone doesn't already know."
"Yes, but what everyone actually DOESN'T know, is that you sold every last piece of stock that you owned in McKinness Deerfield personally and then completely divested everything out of your hedge fund that was heavily invested in McKinness Deerfield and left your local investors holding the bag."
"Selling stock is not a crime, Pat."
"But selling stock within 48 hours of a major energy company filing for bankruptcy and facing MAJOR federal fraud and securities violations IS a crime, Tom - especially when you were forewarned about the events ahead of time. They have a name for that, Tom. It's called insider trading. Can you imagine how the Securities and Exchange Commission might feel about this if they knew?"
All Tom could do was just stare at me in abject horror and shock. He desperately tried to think of something to throw me off his scent.
"You don't know anything, Pat. I know trading and security laws better than you could ever possibly HOPE to know them. Your little drama show doesn't scare me in the least bit!"
"You're right. I don't know the laws that well. But I know people who do. And I also happen to know for a fact that you were tipped off by Derrick McKinness personally."
"How could you possibly know that?"
"As I said before, Tom, I make it my business to know these things. And I have proof, in the form of email correspondence that you knew in advance."
The reality of it all was beginning to set in. "The only way you could know that is if you somehow hacked into my email servers." My silent stare gave him the answer he was looking for. He started chuckling. "You're an idiot, Pat! Even if you wanted to, you could never prosecute me for this. Hacking my email would get every last piece of evidence thrown out in a court of law!"
"You're right, Tom. But it wouldn't be me prosecuting you. Just knowing what I know and giving an anonymous tip to the SEC might just be enough to get an investigation started. Then, with the intimate knowledge I have from your correspondence with Derrick McKinness, my good friend the United States District Attorney Lane Danielsen could really blow the lid off the whole thing and launch an investigation with the full weight and power of the United States Government behind him.
" At a bare minimum, with what I know, you'd be looking at five to ten years behind bars at Club Fed! Hell, Martha Stewart got convicted for less!!"
Tom was dead in the water. He knew he didn't have any cards left to play. "Sheriff, please," he pleaded.
"Oh, now you're going to address me by my lawful title? We were on a first name basis just a minute ago."
"Sheriff... I'm asking you. No, I'm begging you. Please... don't turn me in. This will ruin me. I'll do anything you ask me to. Okay? If this is about me seeing Clarissa, then..."
"Oh, please, Tom. This isn't about Clarissa. She and I are divorced. She's free to see whoever she wants to, even a douche like you. What I want, Tom, is for you to keep your goddamned mouth shut. I want you to mind your own fucking business for a change and not try and chat me up in public so you can trash all my efforts for making this community safer. And your days of running for sheriff are over."
"I understand, Sheriff. In my... exuberance and... enthusiasm for wanting to give back to my community I may have... overstepped my bounds, okay? Maybe we can work together on this. If you show me your plans for the new public safety center, I'd be happy to give you any assistance you might need."
"Oh, stop groveling, for God's sake. I don't need your help. My plan is just fine the way it is. I just need the public's support in getting it passed this fall. And it won't be as expensive as you think. I have a great feeling that I'm close to landing a grant that will pay for a huge part of it."
"Oh, that's...that's great! Just great! Really, really tremendous, Sheriff!" Tom was in full suck-up mode now.
"Just mind your business, Tom. This is the only warning you're gonna get. Piss me off one more time and your ass is headed to Leavenworth."
I turned and headed back down the alley to return to the carnival. As I rounded the corner I could see Tom Wellington squatting down with his back against the wall and his head in his hands obviously coming to grips with his near-brush with a lengthy prison term.

Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 02:54 PM

Truth be told, I have absolutely no idea whether Tom would have gone to jail. If I had to put money on it, I'd probably bet against it, actually. I didn't know Lane Danielsen as well as I led on, either. We had only met briefly last year on a meth case that had gone to federal court for trafficking. The evidence would have made the trial a slam dunk so my interaction with Danielsen was minimal as the defendant pled out.

No trace of hacking into Tom's network could actually be traced back to me (Tonya had made sure of that) and I had no idea how much weight any hint of mine would carry in launching an SEC investigation. Tom only made about $3 million dollars by selling off his stock in McKinness Deerfield. That's a lot for a town like Red River Falls but the SEC wants the really big fish, like Bernie Madoff, who rip off people for BILLIONS.
But it was still helpful to keep Tom quiet as he seemed to be the only one serious about challenging me, even though the election was still over three years away. I just didn't need any road blocks for the public safety center referendum. Just as long as Tom thinks I can get him in a heap of trouble, that's just as good as actually doing it.
*****
All government offices were closed through Memorial Day so it was nice not to have to show up to work again until Tuesday morning. While most people got to enjoy a nice long weekend for the unofficial start of summer our patrol watches were conducted strictly by the books.
I was more than a little surprised on two fronts when I got into work. First, I was surprised that our email servers were actually working and I could get caught up on official correspondence, which also meant that my morning was pretty much shot. Secondly, I was actually surprised to see a short email from Clarissa.
Patrick,
I apologize for not telling you about Tom and me. I'm not really sure what to call it at this point but dating or a relationship doesn't quite fit yet. Not really sure I even see it getting to that point, to be honest. But I regret not giving you a heads up. It was a surprise to see you but a pleasant one. I'm surprised to say this but I enjoyed meeting your fiancée. Shannon is lovely and I hope she makes you happy. - C
The email definitely explained why Clarissa seemed uneasy about being in my presence with Tom at the carnival, especially Tom's attempted displays of affection. And I can only guess that Clarissa emailed me to spare me any discomfort at texting me under the possibility of receiving it in Shannon's presence. Perhaps Clarissa really was regressing from the twat she had become at the end of our marriage and morphing back into something resembling a human being. No sense letting my guard down, though.
Clarissa:
Thank you for the note but it isn't necessary. You have no obligation to explain your personal life to me although I appreciate the sentiment. It was nice seeing you, Caroline and Martin as well.
Patrick
I wasn't expecting any kind of a response from her immediately, because of the fact that she had emailed me instead of texting. But almost immediately after I sent the email I heard a beep indicating that I had a new message in my inbox. It was from Clarissa and simply read:
: )
My god. What would we do without smart phones?
My day was actually going pretty well and I had completed my projected upcoming fiscal year's budget all the way through mid-fourth quarter when Karen Landingham poked her head in my office and told me I had a visitor.
"It's Mitch Monahan."
I took a deep breath and said, "Please, send him in."
Mitch entered my office and closed the door behind him and took a seat in one of the two chairs directly in front of my desk. I swiveled around from my computer and faced him from a position of power behind my large flat fake mahogany desk from Staples.
"Mitch. Good to see you," I said trying to be congenial. "What brings you by?"
He let out a long, slow breath and stared at the floor as he spoke. "Well, Pat," he started, clearing his throat, "I had a long weekend to think about everything that happened with Dean last week. And I wanted to come by and say that I think you were right and I wish that we had handled things a little differently."
I nodded thoughtfully. "Thanks, Mitch. I appreciate that."
"You're absolutely right, Pat, that our employees are our most important resource in any organization. And I violated that. I obviously let you down but, most important, I let Dean down."
"I guess, Mitch that it seemed obvious to everyone that something is very wrong with Dean and I thought maybe we needed to see if there was something we could do to help him. His entire job is based on providing professional assistance to every elected official and department head in the county. We need to be there for him when he needs us, too."
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Pat. I saw Dean over the weekend, during the festival."
"So did I."
"He really looked like hell, Pat."
"I know. Did he say anything to you?"
"No. He wouldn't. I said hello and he just looked right at me and then went after his kids."
"Did he seem angry?"
"No, not really. He had more of a hurt expression than anything. For a moment, I thought maybe he was going to burst into tears if there hadn't been so many people around."
"Yeah, he kinda looked that way when I saw him, too."
"Did he talk to you, Pat?"
"No. He was focused on his kids, like you said. He just nodded hello to me when I waved at him."
Mitch leaned in closer. "Pat, the supervisors and all the other elected officials are really leaning on me. They want to see changes made. Dean called in sick today and both the County Treasurer and County Recorder are pissed. Dean was supposed to have upgraded their computer operating systems with the latest version of Windows in order to be compatible with new tax software from the state. They were supposed to be online with that no later than today and that was only because we were given an extension."
I closed my eyes and let out a breath of frustration.
"Pat," he continued, "I need you to talk to Dean. He's down to his last chance here. If that upgrade for the Treasurer and Recorder isn't completed by close of business Friday, I'm going to have to fire Dean."
"Now look! Dean is-"
"I don't have any choice, dammit!" Mitch interrupted. "You're his friend, Pat! And I consider you to be a friend, too! Even after what happened last week after the meeting! But dammit, Pat! I need your help! I don't wanna see Dean get fired but I have a responsibility to everyone here."
I took a few moments to collect myself and my thoughts. "I know, Mitch, I know. And, for what it's worth, I apologize for what I said last week. You know I would never do anything like that."
"I know, Pat. We're all pretty wound up. It makes you wonder how we ever conducted business thirty or forty years ago before technology became so necessary."
"Yeah, no kidding. My deputies can't even write anybody up for a seatbelt violation anymore without damned near having to do a complete background check. I'll talk to Dean, kidnap him from his own office if I have to. But I will get to the bottom of this, Mitch. I promise."
"Thanks, Pat," Mitch said as he stood, extending his hand. I shook it firmly and warmly.
"Again, Mitch, I'm sorry I lost my temper last week."
"You were looking out for a friend, Pat. I can only hope someone would do the same for me."
"I would in a heartbeat, Mitch."
*****
Dean called in sick the following day, Wednesday, also. He was in and out of the office on Thursday the entire day and I had a hard time being able to get a hold of him. We ended up having a convenience store robbery in the town of Royal Fork that afternoon and I had every deputy in the county committed to the chase. Even Ben Villanueva and I got in on the act.
The chase ended with a nasty car wreck when the perpetrator flipped his aging Suburban ten times at nearly 98 miles per hour, ejecting the driver and throwing him nearly 80 feet. Needless to say, he was killed instantly. But none of my deputies were injured and no other civilians were, either. To top it off, all of the stolen money was returned to the convenience store. All in all, chalk up a "W" for the good guys.
Lucky for us, we have a contract with the town of Royal Fork to provide law enforcement protection there. A deputy is required to spend a minimum of two hours of an eight hour shift actually patrolling the small town of about 2,500 people. Additionally, the deputy is also required to actually drive through the town at least once an hour. Most of it was window dressing but it gave the people there some peace of mind that there was actually a security officer presence in their town.
Truth be told, the deputies assigned to that patrol beat probably spend anywhere from three to four hours in that town on any given day, mostly due to speeding violations that occurred from travelers who are a little too quick to get through town. As such, the small town was actually a fairly good source of revenue for the county.
Friday morning, I found Dean Strobe in his office on the lower level of the courthouse around ten o'clock. The poor schlub was almost two hours late for work, which was another strike against him. Somehow, having an office in the basement of the building seemed kind of fitting for Dean, given his recent behavior.
"Hey, Dean," I said, knocking on his door and letting myself in. "Got a minute?"
"Uh, I'm really busy, Pat. Got a lot of catching up to do. Did you need something right away?"
"No, not really," I said as I took a seat. Dean's office was a stockpile of computer wiring, cables, spare parts, software containers, instructional CDs and DVDs and manuals for every piece of software or hardware owned by the county. I called it "Nerd Paradise". Probably not the nicest term in the world but it got a chuckle out of Dean the first time I said it years ago.
"Actually," I continued, "I was wondering if you and I could get together for a bit this afternoon towards the end of the work day."
"Uh, I don't think so, Pat."
"Why not?"
"Uh...Mercedes needs me to get home as soon as I can."
"You two got a hot date tonight or something?" I laughed. Dean looked at me as though I just pulled a gun and shot his puppy in the head. My smile disappeared instantly. "Seriously, Dean, there's a few things I could really use your help with. It won't take long, I promise."
"I can't, Pat. I really can't."
"Dean, I really need some of your time today. I'm sure Mercedes will understand if you're not home right at 5 o'clock."
Dean sighed in resignation. "Okay, Pat. I'll spare you a few minutes, but I can't stay too long."
"Great! I'll be here right at 4:45, then."
Dean stole a quick glance at the clock. "Okay, Pat. See you then."
I lied. I had every intention of showing up early. So I went back to my office and puttered around for a while, changed out of my uniform and into casual clothes, and then made my way back to the lower level of the courthouse to Dean's office and knocked on his door right at 4:15. Dean had his sport coat wrapped over one arm with keys in hand and was just grabbing his laptop case with the other when I knocked on the door.
"Whoa, Dean! Looks like you're going somewhere," I said, somewhat irritated.
"Uh, look Sheriff, something...came up and I really need to get home."
"What, no phone call at least?"
"Uh, I'm sorry, Sheriff. Maybe we can do it on Monday, okay?"
"Not possible," I said, crossly, entering his office. I stepped in, pulled the door shut, and sat down on a chair. "You do whatever you have to do, Dean. Call Mercedes, or do what you have to do. But you are going to give me some of your time. Now!"
Dean was scared shitless. "Look, Sheriff, I..."
"What's with this "sheriff" shit? Jesus, Dean! We've known each other for years. We've had dinner at each other's houses. Our kids have played together. What the hell, man?!!"
"Sheriff...uh... I mean, Pat...it's just that...well...it's complicated."
"Talk to me."
"I can't."
"You need to, Dean."
"Sheriff, please. It's personal."
"Yeah, well it's affecting your work, Dean. And when your work starts to affect MY work and the work of every county employee and elected official, it isn't personal anymore."
Dean had absolutely no answer.
"Put your stuff down, Dean. Grab your coat and follow me. We're going for a ride."
"Pat, really. I can't-"
"I'm not asking you, Dean. I'm telling you. We're going for a ride."
Dean stood there for a few moments, finally set his laptop on his desk and followed me silently out of the office. He locked his office with shaking hands, pocketed the keys and then followed me outside to my personal vehicle, my trusty royal blue F-150 Lariat Crew Cab. Dean got into the front passenger's seat and buckled himself in.
Dean and I rode in almost complete silence until his phone started buzzing. I gave him an evil look as he answered it.
"Hello?" he answered meekly. "Yeah, honey...no, not yet...the sheriff came to see me at the last minute...he needs me to help him out with a small crisis...I'm not sure, honey...please don't yell, sweetheart...I swear I'll be home as soon as I can...please don't..." That was the last he could get out as the caller, who was obviously Mercedes, hung up on him. "I'm dead. I am so dead," Dean whispered to himself.
I don't really have a favorite watering hole. Truth is, I don't drink that much. But I do enjoy a pint of Killian's every now and then, especially when I'm watching a game. The Minnesota Twins were playing an early double header tonight up in Toronto and I wanted to catch the opening pitch. Never one to drink alone, I figured I might as well drag Dean along with me and see if I could get him to open up to me.
So we pulled into The End Zone, which is a local popular sports bar and grill in Red River Falls. I got out first and waited as Dean reluctantly exited from my truck. We went inside and seated ourselves at the end of the bar and facing one of the nearly 40 flat screen TVs in the place. I ordered my usual Killian's Irish Red and told Hal, the bartender, to get Dean whatever he wanted.
"I'll just have a club soda and orange juice," Dean said meekly. Hal rolled his eyes and went to retrieve our drinks.
"This is a great place to watch a game, Dean. Best in town. I love coming here to hang out and watch the Twins, Vikings and Wild play. Next best thing to actually being at the game!"
Dean just sat there avoiding eye contact with me.
"Do you follow any teams or sports?" I asked. Dean just shook his head no. Hal returned soon with our beverages. Dean sipped at his virgin screwdriver while I took a good pull of my delicious nectar.
"Did you know they have over 140 different types of beer here, Dean?" Again, he shook his head no. "True story. In fact, you get a t-shirt once you've tried every single one of them. I have about 120 beers to go before I get a shirt, though," I chuckled.
I did my best to continue making idle chit chat and tried to get Dean comfortable. I tried to make small talk. I told boring stories. I told some really bad jokes. Nothing was working so I finally decided that I would have to just take the direct approach.
"Dean, I need you to tell me what's going on."
"Nothing, Pat. I just haven't been feeling well lately, that's all."
"Bullshit. You've been gone from work eighteen days in the last two months. That's a little more than not just feeling well. Even when you are at work you are pretty much despondent, disengaged and act like a zombie. Your work has suffered tremendously. Your co-workers are getting down to their last nerve trying to work with you. Your work directly affects everyone else in the county."
Dean just sat there, listening to my words, but not responding.
"I need you to say something, Dean. I need you to tell me how you're going to snap out of it. I need to hear you tell me you have a plan for making things right."
Dean looked away and so did I. We had been at the End Zone for over an hour and I was no closer to finding out what was going on with Dean than I had been when we started.
"Dean, please. I'm begging you. Whatever is going on with you we can work it out. Don't you understand? I wanna help you, Dean. I'm your friend. I'm someone you can trust. Whatever the problem is, we'll solve it. Together."
Dean took a half-hearted sip of his beverage. He still said nothing. His body sat on that bar stool but his mind and soul were light years away. I couldn't tell if anything was registering or not. I tried hard to keep my emotions in check but a surge of anger and frustration was starting to well up inside and I didn't know if I'd be able to hold it back before they consumed me and I gave up on Dean in utter frustration.
"Jesus, Dean," I implored. "I can't help you if you don't let me. And I can't help if I don't know what is going on. I'm begging you Dean. Please, for the love of Christ, talk to me!"
Nothing. An invisible wall was building up and I had little time to crack it before it became impenetrable. I had to find something to shatter it with. And that thing was the truth.
"Dean," I said, leaning closer, "please tell me what's going on. What's happening with you?"
"Nothing, Pat," he finally answered. "I'll be fine. You'll see come Monday."
"Dean, there isn't going to be a Monday unless you level with me right now. They're going to fire you, Dean. For all intents and purposes, you've already been fired. I had to beg Mitch Monahan for twenty minutes this morning to let me give it one more shot. I'm begging and pleading with you Dean. Please let me help you, okay?"
A single tear rolled down Dean's cheek and he looked away in shame. He sat there just trying to compose himself and wouldn't look at me and wouldn't say a word. Finally, after about ten minutes or so, I gave up. I had to resign myself to the fact that I couldn't help Dean if he wouldn't let me.
I left a twenty dollar bill on the bar and stood up. "Sorry, Dean. If you won't let me help you, then it's out of my hands." I turned and started walking out to my truck.
"Alright!" Dean shouted, sniffing and trying to compose himself. "Alright, Pat! You win. Just please don't let them fire me. I can't get fired, Pat. Please! I'll tell you anything you wanna know."
I turned and stared at Dean for a few moments. Convinced he was serious, I walked back to my seat. "Alright, Dean. I'm listening."
Dean sat up straight and summoned some inner strength, drying his eyes. "Okay, Pat. If I'm gonna do this, I'm gonna need something stronger than club soda and OJ."
I nodded to the bartender. "Hal?"
"What can I get you guys?" Hal offered.
"Another Killian for me and whatever Dean wants."
"I'll have a rum and coke," Dean orders. "Heavy on the rum and light on the coke." Hal nodded with a smile and went to fetch our quaff.
"Okay, Dean. I'm listening." Dean took a series of deep rapid breaths and was nearly on the verge of hyperventilating. "Easy, Dean, take it easy. Just take your time and tell me what's on your mind. I'm here to help you, not judge you, okay?"
Dean nodded and seemed to calm some. Our drinks arrived and Dean took a long steady pull from the rum and coke and winced as the liquor burned its way down to his stomach. He sat there for a few moments, letting the alcohol get into his system and fuel his courage. Then he turned to me and opened the dam.
"I'm not a man, Pat."
"What do you mean by that, Dean?"

Ramesh_Rocky · 19-03-2025, 02:55 PM

"I mean, I'm not a man. I'm a wuss...a pussy - whatever you wanna call it. I've sucked at dealing with women my entire life. My father committed suicide when I was fourteen, Pat." I was stunned at the revelation. "My mother was beautiful but she was an alcoholic who treated him like shit and fucked every guy possible. If it had pulse and a dick, my mother probably slept with it."

"Jesus, Dean. I can only imagine."
"For my father, death was his only escape. He bailed on me when I needed him the most in my life. The worst part is, after my dad killed himself, most men in our town wanted nothing more to do with my mother. I think they saw her as damaged goods. I don't even think of my dad's death as a suicide anymore, really. I think of it as him dying of humiliation more than anything.
"Dad left us a sizable insurance policy and that's pretty much what we lived off until I graduated high college. My mom went through a period of grief, although it was probably guilt at how she treated him more than anything. At least she felt something after he died."
"I'm so sorry, Dean. I had no idea about your dad. I haven't even spoken to my own dad since my mother died a couple of years ago."
Dean gave me a weak smile of appreciation. "The worst part, Pat, is what happened after my mother decided she was over her grief period. I was almost sixteen at the time. She was getting almost no attention from men. Suddenly, she started turning into the most loving and caring woman. She could have been mother of the year, if not for her being drunk a good portion of the time."
I narrowed my eyes as I listened, afraid of where the conversation was leading.
"I'd sit at my desk in my room, doing my college work. college was all I had, it was all I had ever been good at. At least it helped take my mind off my dad and the woman my mother had become. At first, it was just a lot of hugging, long hugs. Then she would come sit by me as I did my college work and just constantly caress my back, my arms, my legs.
"Eventually, that progressed to her coming into my room late at night and just wanting to hold me and be close to me. She would often just lay there caressing my chest and stomach, my arms and legs. Lots of times she would eventually just pass out or fall asleep and wake up with a hangover."
Dean took a long swig and finished his rum and coke, motioning to Hal for a refill.
"But one night, Pat, when I was seventeen she went even further. She started touching places she shouldn't. I knew it was wrong. I thought she was just trying to be a loving mother at first but this was so wrong. The worst part was I couldn't help myself. I couldn't stop my body from reacting. I was young, seventeen years old. I was as horny as any other kid my age. She would do things to me with her hands and her mouth.
"I didn't know what to do, Pat. On the one hand everything felt so good and I couldn't stop thinking about it. But on the other hand, I knew it was wrong and the guilt started to eat me up. The shame was becoming overwhelming but I couldn't make her stop. She was in my head, telling me that she was doing it because she loved me."
Hal returned with a fresh rum and coke for Dean and he immediately took a long drink. The alcohol was definitely having an effect and the walls were quickly coming down. My heart was genuinely aching and breaking for Dean. He had to have been so vulnerable and confused after his father's death. His mother taking advantage of him like this was sickening and despicable.
"My mother actually surprised me with a party on my eighteenth birthday. I hadn't had a party since I was little but there were a couple of my classmates there as well as some relatives. So to me, it felt like a really big deal. My mother even surprised me with my first car, a 1986 Buick Grand National. It wasn't much to look at, really, but to me it might as well have been a Ferrari, you know?"
I nodded as Dean smiled at the memory. But his smile quickly faded as he continued.
"That night I took a shower before bed. As I got out of the shower, I noticed that my clothes weren't where I had left them on the vanity. I toweled off quick, wrapped it around me and walked back to my room. As soon as I got in there the lights went out and my towel got yanked off. It was dark and all I could hear was my mother say, 'now it's time for your REAL birthday present'. And that was my first time, the night of my 18th birthday. I lost my virginity to my own mother." And then Dean broke down.
It took a few minutes for him to compose himself. I stayed silent and just let it come out on its own. It needed to. If anything was ever going to be right in the world for him ever again then the wounds needed to be exposed before they could start to heal.
"And that was how the rest of my senior year went between my mom and me. I couldn't make my body not react to her. It had a mind of its own. Most of the time I would come home from college and I could just see that look in her eyes and knew what she would do that night. For some reason, I was powerless to stop it. It was really the only kind of love I had ever known from her since I was a small child. I guess as bad as everything was for me up to that point, psychologically I was willing to accept whatever love I could get.
"But I quickly realized that I was becoming a social cripple with anyone my own age. I absolutely couldn't relate to girls my own age. I knew what my mother was doing to me was totally wrong. And the constant shame and guilt I was feeling also made me have an irrational fear that everyone knew what was going on. It felt like everyone was in on the secret and just pretended not to be when they were around me.
"I would go to college, Pat, and just be immersed in my books. When I wasn't in class, I was in a corner at the library - studying and just being away from people. I was being torn in two by a desire to go home at the end of the college day knowing what was going to happen while another part of me wanted to run as far and as fast as I possibly could. I couldn't stop my mind and body from desiring my mother but I also couldn't shut off the part of my brain that overwhelmed me with shame." Dean burst into tears yet again.
"My God, Dean, I can't imagine how you survived growing up like that. I think you're a stronger person than you give yourself credit for."
"I'm not strong, Pat. If I was strong I would have confronted her. I would have told someone, a college counselor or my pastor at church. But I didn't. I just let it happen because it was easier."
"No, Dean, you didn't just let it happen. Your mother took advantage of all the trauma and tragedy of your life and hers and she used it to manipulate you and sexually abuse you, Dean. You were a young man who experienced a lot of shit in a short amount of time and at a very young age. Of course you didn't know how to deal with it!"
"But the worst part, Pat, was I liked it on the one hand and I was repulsed and full of shame on the other. That was the dichotomy I couldn't reconcile. It never made sense to me then and it doesn't make sense to me now. Especially because I couldn't shut my body off. I couldn't keep myself from being aroused! It was like I wanted it to happen!"
"Dean, listen to me. What happened to you is no different than what happens to a lot of women who are bangd. It isn't often talked about, mostly because of the shame and stigma involved. But a lot of women who are bangd will actually become aroused. Their vagina will actually lubricate and many will even experience an orgasm, believe it or not. But just because those things happen DOES NOT mean that the woman consented or asked for the bang to occur. Does that make sense?"
"It's different for men, Pat."
"No, Dean, it isn't. It is called a natural reaction to stimuli. It is something you can't control. It is no different than your eyes dilating when it is dark and then constricting when it is bright outside."
"Two totally separate things, Pat. I should have been able to control myself."
I let out a sigh of frustration. And then I thought of something. "Are you ticklish, Dean?"
"What?"
"It's a simple question, Dean. Are you ticklish or not."
"Uh, yeah, I am actually," he said, wondering where I was going with this.
"Have you ever in your entire life been tickled so hard that you almost had tears pouring out of your eyes?"
Dean smiled. "Yeah, my Dad used to do that to me sometimes when I was little. I'd beg him to stop and he'd keep on going."
"Did you like that or did you hate it? Because I always hated when my sister Beth would do that to me when I was little, too."
"Yeah, I guess I hated it at the time, Pat."
"Ah, you hated it. That's to be expected. But let me ask you this: What were you doing the entire time your father was tickling you senseless?"
Dean thought for a moment. "I dunno. Laughing, I guess."
"Yes. You were almost certainly laughing hysterically. Any why were you laughing? Did that mean you enjoyed it? Did that mean you wanted to be tickled like that?"
"No, I just couldn't help it...oh, yeah. Yeah, I get it."
"Exactly! Sometimes, when our bodies are violated, we can't always control the response. The fact that women may experience physical arousal is interpreted by some doctors and psychologists as a natural response by her body to help lessen the physical trauma that the bang will cause. It does NOT mean that she is emotionally aroused NOR does it mean that she consented. 'NO' still means NO!
"Likewise," I explained, "arousal in a young, virile eighteen year old male whose body and brain and bloodstream is FULL of raging hormones DOES NOT mean that you wanted or consented to your mother's unwanted sexual advances. Does that make sense?"
Dean cried softly, nodding his head.
"What happened to you was NOT your fault, Dean. Understand?"
"I know, Pat," he said, drying his eyes. "Just been carrying all of that shit for a long time."
Just then, Hal the bartender came over. "Everything okay, Sheriff?"
"Yeah, everything's fine, Hal. In fact, why don't you bring us another round?"
"Sure thing."
A minute later he was back with our refills.
"So," I said, trying to change gears. "Do you wanna tell me what that phone call between you and Mercedes was all about on the way over here?"
"Jesus, Pat. I don't even know where to start with her. Take everything that happened with my mom growing up and magnify it times one hundred and you've got all the shit I'm dealing with over Mercedes."
"Like I said earlier, Dean. I'm not here to judge. I'm here to help."
Dean took a long sip of his drink. "I graduated from high college, Pat, and ran as far and as fast from Peoria, Illinois as I could. I got an academic scholarship offer to Penn State for computer science. I was still so fucked up. I had zero social life. The only outlet I had was occasionally meeting up with some people from a programming club that met a couple times a month.
"So combine a total nerd with a history of sexual abuse and you have a 21 year old geek who is officially invisible to girls."
"How did you and Mercedes meet, then?"
"Mercedes grew up in Allentown. She went to college for a couple of years at Penn State Altoona and eventually transferred to State College. I had a roommate my junior year that I actually got to be pretty good friends with. He was dating a girl who was friends with Mercedes and the two of them brought us along one time on an unofficial blind date. We didn't actually start dating until my senior year and only after I had finished a fairly prestigious internship with Sun Microsystems that summer. Well, it was prestigious to me, anyway."
"Don't sell yourself short, Dean. You don't need to downplay your success for anyone."
"Yeah, thanks, Pat," he smiled. "But getting back to the story, Mercedes and I started just doing things with my roommate, Ben, and his girlfriend Robin. You know, just stuff together as couples. About halfway through my senior year at Penn State, Mercedes kind of decided we were officially a couple. I think she saw me as someone who was potentially successful and, more important, someone who was safe."
"Nothing wrong with being either one of those things, Dean."
"Yeah, I guess. But Mercedes was the one who was pretty much driving the relationship. I pretty much surrendered to her and everything she wanted. Our sexual relationship didn't start until I nearly graduated and about the same time as when I got my first job offer with Innovative Technology Solutions in Minneapolis. It was an incredible offer for someone right out of college. Eighty-thousand to start with and exceptional benefits, too.
"I was getting everything I thought I wanted - a great job in a great city and a beautiful woman to share my life with. But everywhere we went together, either during my last few weeks in college or after we moved to the Twin Cities, people treated me like I was invisible when Mercedes and I were together. Men would just come up and start talking to her, openly flirting or hitting on her even in my presence. It was incredibly emasculating. But I think for Mercedes she started to understand how truly beautiful she really was and I think it started having an effect on her."
"How so?"
"After we became physically intimate a lot of my old insecurities and past issues started to come up. I had a lot of problems making love to my wife because of everything that happened to me years before. Either I couldn't perform when I wanted to or I couldn't make it last long enough to satisfy Mercedes. I'm a bookworm so I tried to read everything I could to try and be everything she needed me to be, but I just never seemed to get any better at it.
"Finally, Mercedes got so upset with me and threatened to leave me if I didn't go along with a plan she had come up with."
"What was her plan, Dean?"
"She said that if I couldn't satisfy her the way she needed to be, then she wanted to go out and find someone who could. She promised me that it wouldn't be very often, just something she needed to do before she went crazy. And because I was too weak to demand that she didn't, I was stupid enough to agree to it."
"What happened then?"
"She met someone that she wanted to have a 'date' with and ended up going out with him for a whole weekend. When she came home, she was absolutely insatiable. She even brought home some Viagra pills that she had acquired from the guy and gave them to me to try. In a strange way, it was invigorating to see how much she desired me again. And the pills made me stronger and able to last much longer than I could have before. It actually gave me a sense of confidence that I never had before."
"I sense a 'but' coming in this conversation," I added.
"Yeah, a big 'but', too. Things were great for a while, like I said. Pretty soon we were expecting our first child, Brandon. Our daughter Brynne followed only a year after. She wouldn't talk about it at first, but Mercedes had problems with post-partum depression after each one. She was never close to hurting either of our kids but she just wasn't the same, either.
"Eventually, she decided the only way to be happy again was a repeat of her one-time sexual encounter with another man. I only wanted her to be happy again, so I once again reluctantly agreed. She seemed happy again and our sex life was recharged. But Mercedes made a decision that if doing it once made her this happy, then doing it often would KEEP her happy. She basically decided that she would see men outside of our marriage more often. And she said that if I really loved her, I would want her to do this. It was then that I realized I was too weak to stop her."
"You had a lot of trauma to deal with, Dean. They were issues that were never resolved and each time you were faced with them, psychologically, it was probably hard for you to not revert emotionally back to that time when you were abused."
"Call it whatever you want, Pat. But the bottom line is that I didn't stand up for myself when I should have. I didn't demand more out of my marriage than I should have. I just let her do whatever she wanted because I thought that, by doing so, it would show her how much I loved her. As much as I hated the idea of her being with other men, I was absolutely terrified of being alone."
"So she started seeing other men regularly?" I asked.
"Pretty much whenever she wanted. After a while, she started to get really snotty and bitchy about it. That's when the comments, insults and humiliation started. It was a little comment here and there, flaunting her infidelity in my face. Eventually even the men she was with started getting in on it and openly mocking me, as well. They would brag to me and tell me how they were going to take my wife to their place or a hotel and fuck her in ways that I could only dream of.
"At least Mercedes and I were still having sex together back then. She would often go on her 'dates' and come home and want me to have sex with her again. But then that devolved into only giving me oral sex or finishing me with her hand and only allowing me to perform oral sex on her. She seemed to really enjoy humiliating me by making me eat her pussy right after she had sex with someone else.
"She began to see one man exclusively. His name was Derek Wittrock. Worst of all, he was one of my supervisors at ITS. Derek eventually insisted that Mercedes stop having sex with me altogether. Sometimes, they would insist that I be present when they had sex and that I was only allowed to masturbate as I watched them. It didn't excite me at all, Pat. I couldn't even perform that miniscule sexual function and that just gave them more fodder for humiliating me."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing from Dean. I thought Clarissa's treatment of me was bad enough but it paled in comparison to what Dean had to go through.
"Did you ever tell anyone about this? How long did their affair go on?" I asked.
"It lasted over two years. It only ended shortly before we moved to Red River Falls. I was making almost $100,000 a year at that point. I was actually promoted to a position that would have put me ahead of Derek but he and Mercedes threatened me and told me to turn it down. Derek was much bigger and physically stronger. I've always been built like a marathon runner."
"What finally ended it?"
"Turning down a promotion like that raised a big flag. Eventually the VP of R&D did some digging around and Mercedes' and Derek's affair was exposed. Derek was terminated for cause. I was retained, for the time being, but was 'strongly encouraged' to seek employment elsewhere in exchange for the highest recommendation from ITS. That was towards the end of the Great Recession and jobs were still hard to come by. I was lucky to get my position with Mason County and move here. But Mercedes has never forgiven me for it and blames me for ending her affair. Plus, she despises Red River Falls."
"So how does Brad enter into the picture?"
"She met Brad at the Pump House gym. Mercedes was going there on a regular basis and Brad worked as a part-time freelance personal trainer. He started off by giving her 'free' pointers on her workout routine. Eventually, one thing led to another and Brad Weston became Derek Wittrock version 2.0."
I finished the last of my pint of Killian's and motioned for Hal to bring me a refill as well as one for Dean.
"With Brad," Dean continued, "the humiliation has just gotten worse and worse. I'm not allowed to sleep in my own bedroom and bed anymore. That's reserved for Brad and Mercedes only."
"Where do you sleep, then? A guest room?"

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