Red River Falls Stories By soldierboy50401

[Ramesh_Rocky]

"Hi friends these are couple of stories written by soldierboy50401 hope you guys enjoy"

[Ramesh_Rocky]

What Mother-In-Law Wants...


We'd been looking to move to the country for years and finally getting out of the city. Having grown up on a farm, I wanted my children to be able to have the same experience I did. My wife, Clarissa, and I had finally found the perfect acreage that we could afford. The house was a big old farmhouse with 5 bedrooms and a wrap around porch. It would definitely need some work over the coming years but it was at least livable, unlike many of the other small acreages, ranchettes and farms we had looked at. The outbuildings were usable, too, and there would be plenty of room for us to have horses, which we had always dreamed of.

Things got kind of hairy as the acreage received a competing offer the same week we finally got an offer on our current house. We ended up accepting an offer on our own house for about $10,000 less than we were asking, but enough for us to still make out okay. We thought the acreage was gone for good, but at the last second, the financing fell through on the competing offer and we were able to get the home of our dreams!
Everything seemed to kick into high gear after that and Clarissa and I would be constantly busy working on the house, the outbuildings and the grounds of the acreage. We never seemed to lack for anything to do - painting, fixing fences, working on the house. Every night, when we head to bed, we are extremely tired and worn out. We haven't watched more than about 2-3 hours of television total since we moved to the farm. Our two boys, Nicholas and Jacob, were equally thrilled with life on the farm and actively explored the woods and wildlife.
I work full-time as a Deputy Sheriff in the county we live in. I had previously worked as a security officer officer in the largest town in our county, which has a population of about 30,000 people. I got tired of being confined to the city limits and wanted to get my family out of the city. A former officer I worked with eventually ran for Sheriff of Mason County and won. When an opening on his department came up, I applied and become one of his Deputies, which meant that I could now live anywhere within the county. My new job gave us the opportunity to move to the country.
My wife and her mother, Caroline, are very close and speak on the phone for at least an hour every day, even longer if they actually have something important to talk about. To say that Caroline was having a rough year would be a gross understatement. Caroline had been married for the past 5 years to her husband, Dale. Dale was husband number five for Caroline. We all had hopes that Dale would finally be the man that she would spend the rest of her life with. But about a year ago, things changed when Dale turned 60. No one could really seem to figure out what was going on, but things between Caroline and Dale became very strained.
It wasn't long before we were given the news that Dale had moved out of the house and into the home of his girlfriend, who was younger than me and just a couple years older than my wife. I'm 37 and my wife is 31. Caroline just turned 52 and was absolutely devastated at being left for another woman, especially for one so much younger who had young children of her own.
Later that year, Caroline's own father passed away suddenly and her mother's health was failing from emphysema and a recent diagnosis of lung cancer.
With a looming divorce on the horizon, it soon became apparent that things were going to get financially difficult for Caroline, thus prompting her to ask if we would care for her horses. Our kids were thrilled with this idea and the three horses, two quarter horses and a palomino, were welcomed to our farm quite happily.
My wife, Clarissa, had been having some issues of her own lately. She had become very moody, had a noticeable lack of energy at certain times, and her sexual appetite had taken an absolute nose dive. Since our boys are ages 12 and 9, it certainly wasn't any kind of postpartum depression.
Clarissa had made an appointment with her personal doctor who had given her a physical and run a battery of other tests, thinking it could be anything from early menopause to ovarian cancer. It turned out to be neither of those, thank goodness.
What it did turn out to be, however, was a condition known as low testosterone. Apparently, even women's bodies need a fair amount of testosterone to run properly. Without it, it leads to the host of symptoms that I mentioned earlier.
The problem was that my wife is a total freak when it comes to cooking only natural foods and using as many homemade remedies and herbal medicines as possible. She only takes prescription medication when she absolutely has to. Want a Coca-Cola to drink? Good luck finding it in our fridge!
Clarissa chastises me for my soda habits on a weekly, if not occasionally daily basis. I'm not a coffee drinker at all. Anyone who is a law enforcement officer (I hate the word "cop"), EMT or firefighter knows that caffeine is often a necessity to get through a long shift.
As a result, Clarissa refused to take any of the prescription medications that her doctor recommended to help with the Low-T. She was given various options of long-acting shots, topical creams or oral varieties, but she would have none of them. She researched it on the internet and has been trying a variety of herbal and home remedies, none of which seem to be having much success.
I wouldn't say that the situation was killing our marriage, but the lack of physical intimacy certainly wasn't doing us any favors, either. We had our share of talks and arguments over the past few months about it. I had hoped the move to the farm would help recharge our intimacy, but no such luck so far. Clarissa says this is something she needs to do on her own and my pressuring her for sex isn't helping her. She is sure she will eventually find the magic recipe to cure her issue, but my begging for sex isn't it.
I wouldn't say that I've been begging, but I have certainly been dropping plenty of hints and suggestions. Once every few weeks, Clarissa will give in and accommodate me, but it is usually forced and completely devoid of any passion we once shared. As such, it feels scripted, mundane and I am left with the feeling that Clarissa is just scratching another item off her "to-do" list. Our sex life has become completely vanilla and unfulfilled.
A couple of weeks ago, Clarissa' mother called and asked if we could use a hay feeder so that we could feed the large round bales of hay to the horses instead of the smaller square bales. The benefit is that we would have to feed them a lot less often as the bales are much bigger. But you need a round bale feeder, which is essentially a metal cage, that prevents the horses from kicking the hay all around and allows them to more evenly feed from the bale and creates less wasted hay. We said we could definitely use the feeder and Caroline said she would bring it by the following weekend.
I've never really thought much of Caroline in a sexual way. Sure, she is a good-looking woman for her age, I always thought. I guess I had always seen her as a mother-figure and not someone I would really consider having for myself. Caroline was definitely a cowgirl at heart and lived her life that way. It was probably why her personal life was having such an effect on her, knowing that she would most likely eventually lose her own acreage and her horses.
Caroline's daily work habits and riding habits definitely kept her in good shape. She is about 5'6, trim, with a decently proportional bust size, probably about a "c" cup. She constantly wore a straw Stetson hat, colorful brush popper shirts, a pair of tight Wranglers with a huge rodeo buckle and her most comfortable riding boots. She looked every bit the part of the rodeo queen and played it to the hilt.
Caroline arrived at our small farm with the bale feeder on her own horse trailer and I agreed to help her set it up. Clarissa came along to help out for a bit, but eventually left to go back in the house to check on the boys and to make lunch.
The easiest way to assemble the feeder, which came in four sections, was for me to lift two sections and place them end-to-end while Caroline fitted the bolts in place and secured them. It was awkward as I lifted the sections and Caroline knelt down to secure the bolts. She was on her knees and, occasionally, her shoulder or forearm and even her head would occasionally gently bump me right in the crotch. Not enough to hurt, but enough to feel it. I couldn't help but feel strangely awkward with Caroline's head right next to my crotch. With no warning at all, I started to sport an erection right then and there, which only became bigger and firmer each time she would accidentally bump me.
Every once in a while, I thought I could see Caroline steal a glance at my crotch, which now revealed the unmistakable bulge of my rampant erection. I was still holding the steel feeder up above her head and if I dropped it, she would definitely be hurt. There was no way I could muscle it out of the way to avoid her if I started to drop it, so I was definitely stuck where I was.
The next thing I knew, Caroline put down the wrench she was using and just knelt there staring at my crotch. I was holding up over 200 pounds of metal right over her head.
"Are you okay, Caroline?" I asked.
She just stayed there, silent and slowly shook her head.
"Is something wrong?" I queried again.
Caroline said nothing. Suddenly, she reached for my belt buckled, unfastened it and quickly yanked down the zipper.
I could barely muster a gasp when she pulled down the elastic waste band of my boxer shorts and my now erect penis nearly hit her in the face as she freed it from its denim prison.
"Caroline, what the hell are you doing?" I stammered. "Jesus! Clarissa's in the house! She could be out here any second!"
Caroline said nothing as she gripped the shaft with her hand and tenderly and lovingly stroked me. It felt so good that I was sure my knees were going to buckle.
"Caroline, I'm telling you! I can't hold this feeder up forever and if I drop it, it is going to hurt you," I pleaded.
"It's okay, Patrick," she whispered. "It isn't going to take that long."
"Caroline, I......ohhhhhhh," was all I could say as she expertly took me into her mouth. Her lips were soft and moist and she sucked and licked on my swollen member with an expertise I had never experienced before. She was right. If she kept this up, it definitely wasn't going to last long!
Suddenly, I thought of the fact that it was a warm day and I had been working outside all morning. I was pretty sure my crotch probably smelled like a bum's nut sack, but Caroline didn't seem to care in the least. She pulled my boxers down a little further with her free hand and pulled my swollen balls out and tenderly stroke them. The dual sensation of having my cock stroked and sucked with my balls being caressed was absolutely out-of-this world!
I'm not a huge man by any means. But I'm not exactly small, either. I'm about 6 and 1/2 inches erect, although I was pretty sure I was closer to 7 inches as Caroline expertly worked my phallus, occasionally spitting on it to provide a little more lube. She tenderly gripped on my scrotum and gave a slight downward tug on the boys, which sent me into overdrive.
I hadn't even masturbated in over a week, so I knew that my testicles were swollen. As I said, I'm not a particularly huge man but no woman I had ever been with in my life had ever taken me in their mouth balls deep. The next thing I knew, Caroline's nose was rubbing my pubic hair with each thrust of her head and mouth and the feeling was more than I could take.
I started to feel a dull ache in my groin and knew that I was about to blow a massive load. I started to pull back trying to pull out of Caroline's mouth, but she furiously grabbed my buttocks and pulled me toward her while she ferociously swallowed me balls-deep. I experienced an unbelievable release and knew that I had never blown a load that big in my life. Caroline took every drop that she possibly could as wave after wave and spurt after spurt was released into her mouth. A small drip of my load trickled out of her nose, something I had never ever seen before.
Caroline slowly pulled her head away, gradually releasing my spent manhood from her mouth. As my cock was almost all the way out, she locked her lips around the swollen head and gave one last good and hard suck before letting me go. The sensation took me by surprise and I immediately released two more spurts of cum which landed on Caroline's face and a quarter-sized glob on her shirt.
"Oh, shit! I'm sorry," I breathlessly sputtered.
"That's okay," she said and immediately stood up and walked away. "That's the last of the bolts. The feeder should be ready to go," Caroline said as she walked out of the corral and headed back to her trailer.
I dropped the damned bale feeder to the ground and clumsily grasped at my boxers and jeans to try and get myself back in order. I tucked my dick back in, zipped up and buckled and followed Caroline. Panicked, I looked around to see if any of the kids were outside or if Clarissa had seen anything.
Looking towards the house, I could see Clarissa through the kitchen window busily making lunch. The boys must still be inside, too, and I followed Caroline back to the house.
We both headed into the kitchen and I could see the boys in the living room playing video games.
Thank God! It didn't seem like anyone saw anything.
"You guys sure took your time finishing," Clarissa said. Her tone of voice was fairly upbeat and playful. Turning from the stove, she looked at me and said, "How come you're so out of breath? It wasn't that tough of a job, was it?" She smiled as she said it, which helped calm me for a second before Caroline opened her mouth.
"We had a problem with a couple of nuts," Caroline said as she sat down to a fresh cup of coffee. "But I eventually got the problem licked," she replied as she picked up the newspaper on the table.
I could feel the color rushing out of my face as she said it. Not five minutes ago Caroline had the entire length of my penis in her warm, inviting mouth and now she was sitting at my kitchen table in front of her own daughter making jokes about it.
The rest of lunch passed with no more veiled innuendos and Clarissa and Caroline visited almost the entire time. My head was spinning the entire time and I don't think I said two words. I just sat there eating my chicken salad sandwich and tried to avoid making eye contact.
I feigned reading the newspaper as though I was the typical husband disinterested in all the girl talk. And yet, I couldn't get my mind away from the amazing and shocking experience I had just had. I had never received such an amazing blow job in my entire life and I would never have suspected that one like that could come from my Mother-In-Law. My testicles and groin still ached from the strength and severity with which I had ejaculated. That was also something new for me.
Caroline left mid-afternoon. I struggled to try and figure out what it meant. I was filled with so many feelings - shock, euphoria, guilt and shame. I felt like I had been taken advantage of and I felt dirty and shamed. Caroline had taken advantage of me in a situation where I absolutely couldn't resist without the possibility of accidentally hurting her. Or was I just too stunned and turned on and FAILED to resist? I'll admit that I had been getting an erection beforehand, but was that just a natural response? Or did Caroline know what she was doing and take advantage of me anyway? I started to experience the same feelings that a victim of date bang feels, especially the ones where a victim didn't really consent but didn't really say no, either.
The whole problem for me was the intense sexual feelings I was having over the whole incident. I couldn't think of what Caroline did to me that day without sporting a massive erection just thinking about it. But I also knew that I had violated my marriage vows and couldn't help but feel guilty because of it. There was no way that Clarissa would ever buy my excuse that it happened without my permission. I also knew that there was no way she wouldn't think that her mother wasn't the victim.
Life went on as much as it could. I worked my regular schedule of 6 days and then got three days in a row off. I was fortunate enough to be assigned a 7 to 3 shift, which meant that I could take my lunch breaks at home with my family and be home in time for evening dinner. Meal times these days are definitely a lot lighter in conversation than they used to be. Clarissa, I'm sure, suspected that it was due to the fact that it had now been several weeks since we had had sex and that I was probably just sulking and pouting about it.
That was certainly true, to an extent. I missed my wife and the way she used to be. I wouldn't really consider us to be a hot and heavy couple, sexually, even from the beginning. We had a nice sex life and generally made love 2 or 3 times a week prior to the onset of Clarissa's symptoms.
But mostly, I was just stuck in neutral over what had happened between Caroline and I. To make matters worse, when I came home from my last shift before my scheduled 3 days off, Clarissa greeted me with some unexpected news.
I walked in the front door of the house, went to the living room closet and pulled out my gun safe. I punched in the combination, opened it, and secured my service pistol, a Sig Sauer .40 caliber semi-automatic.
After making sure my sidearm was secured, I walked into the kitchen where Clarissa had already started supper. The smell of the evening meal, good old-fashioned roast beef, was permeating the house and my stomach was already growling.
"Hey, babe?" she quizzed. "Do you have anything scheduled for tomorrow?" She was just getting ready to add the baby carrots and potatoes to the crock pot.
"Um, no, not really," I said collapsing into one of the kitchen chairs. It had been a rather bad day with a nasty stabbing. Unusual that something like that would happen on the day shift and a very messy one at that. The victim was not expected to survive.
"I lined up a sitter for the boys tomorrow. Your sister agreed to watch them." My interest peaked as I hoped that maybe she was planning a romantic getaway for us. But my heart sank as she continued. "I'm going to head up north to the cities tomorrow with Sherry and several other girls for a weekend shopping trip. It has been months since I've had a day or two to myself and I hoped you wouldn't mind. This was the only weekend we could all get together," she finished.
Damn. Clarissa was right about one thing - I did owe her the time. She is a full-time mom who home colleges both of our kids and it is a very rare occasion, other than grocery shopping, where she gets any time to herself. So, I felt like I definitely owed her some time off.
"Yeah, that would be fine. I know you need some time to yourself, but why not just leave the boys with me?" I asked. I wasn't prepared for the answer.
"My mom called early this morning just as I was starting home college with the boys. She asked if she could borrow you for the weekend to help her with some projects over at her place."
I damned near choked on the glass of water I was drinking. What the fuck do I say now? I can't just say no. If I refuse to help her mother, Clarissa is going to want to know why. Normally, I'm a terrific liar. I have to do it a lot in my job to put a potential criminal at ease to make them think they're not in trouble while I try to weasel information out of them. But when it comes to my wife? Forget it! Clarissa can read me like a book and can smell a lie like a fart in a car. As long as I keep my mouth shut, I'm usually fine. She'll think I just clam up like any other man. But if I start talking, she's gonna detect my bullshit instantly. That's just how she's wired.

[url=https://www...'.s/what-mother-in-law-wants#][/url]

[Ramesh_Rocky]

"Uh, yeah, I guess so. I mean, if she really needs the help. I was kind of hoping, you know, to finish a few projects around here first," I said, fishing for an opening to get out of it. Clarissa shot me a quick glance and I finished quickly, "but, yeah, I can help your mom out."

Clarissa returned to prepping dinner. "Good. You know how hard things have been for her this year. She can use all the help she can get out there now that she's all alone," she said while slicing into a large sweet onion. Yeah, I thought. Caroline is all alone and tomorrow I would be stuck all alone with her. My wife herself was sending a sheep to the wolf.
We finished dinner, watched a family movie with the boys and then all turned in to bed early. Clarissa wanted to be up and on the road early for her weekend with her girlfriends.
Clarissa left me in charge of getting the boys ready and she was out the door by 7:30. My sister Beth was expecting the boys by 9:00 and then they were going on a family outing for the weekend over to my parents' place. So the boys would get to have fun with the cousins and spend some time getting spoiled by Grandma and Grandpa. It was a win-win situation for everyone. Except for me.
I pulled the pickup into Caroline's driveway around 10:30. I took my time getting there after dropping the boys off, even though she only lives 45 minutes from Clarissa and I. Just needed some time to think, I guess. I parked the truck down by the horse corrals, since I knew Caroline needed help disassembling those, and grabbed my tool box out of the back of the truck.
A couple minutes later, Caroline came out of the house and walked purposefully to the corral. She was wearing her usual straw Stetson, a blue Brushpopper shirt and a pair of especially tight Wrangler blue jeans that were so form-fitting that the unmistakable outline of her cameltoe was as visible to me as the bright sun shining above us. I immediately turned away. Already, I could sense where this was heading.
"Holy crap," she said. "Clarissa said you were gonna drop the boys off at nine. I was expecting you 45 minutes ago." She actually seemed irritated that I was late. I had figured it would be just as awkward for her with me here as it was for me.
"Well, I had to stop in at the sheriff's office to take care of a couple of paperwork items for my report on that stabbing yesterday," I lied.
"Yeah, I heard about that," Caroline said as she entered the horse corral. "Oh, well. Let's get to work." She brushed past me and the invisible mist of the Liz Claiborne perfume she was wearing caught my nostrils and I couldn't help but breathe it in deeply and savor the scent. Who the hell puts on makeup and perfume to work on a farm?
We started off the day by disassembling the entire horse corral and several other smaller horse pens she had set up near the barn. It took us a good three hours and most of it was spent in complete silence, unless one of us was asking the other for a specific tool. I finished the last part of it myself while Caroline went in the house and emerged with two tall glasses of fresh lemonade. It was a welcome break as it was unseasonably hot for mid-September and I was dripping with sweat. I couldn't help but notice that at least one or two more buttons on Caroline's shirt had been unbuttoned since we started this morning.
I quickly downed the lemonade and Caroline took the empty glass from me.
"Need a refill?" she asked.
"No, I'm fine. I have a few bottles of water in the truck, too," I said.
"Okay, then," she said turning toward the house. "When I get back, we'll get started on the fence. I wanna fence in where the corrals were and enlarge the pasture," she said walking away. God, but her ass looked tight in those Lady Wranglers. I couldn't help myself as my breathing and heart rate both picked up.
"Jesus Christ!" I shouted as she walked away.
Caroline stopped in her tracks and did a quick about face. "What's wrong?"
I chuckled. "What's wrong? What's WRONG?" I stammered. "What the hell, Caroline? Are we ever going to talk about it? Or are you just content to not say a goddamned thing about the 10,000 pound elephant in the room?"
Caroline stood there and looked away.
"I mean, what am I supposed to say to Clarissa?" I continued. "How am I supposed to deal with what happened?"
"Well, if you're smart," Caroline quipped, "you won't say anything! If you have half a brain, you'll just keep your mouth shut!"
Jesus. She just didn't get it. Or didn't want to.
"Are we going to talk about it, at least?"
Caroline's shoulders just dropped. "What is there to talk about? It happened. What is it that you think you need to hear from me?"
My mind was a blank. I had no idea what exactly I wanted to hear.
"I dunno, I guess. An apology, I suppose."
Now Caroline chuckled. "An apology? An apology for what, exactly?"
I was starting to get pissed. "You took advantage of me, Caroline. You took advantage of the situation. And for WHAT?"
"Oh, for God's sake, Patrick! Man up about it! Ninety-nine out of a hundred men would LOVE for something like that to happen to them!" She turned and started up towards the house. I decided to say 'fuck it' and followed her. I reached out and grabbed her arm to stop her and immediately let go.
"You know something? You're right, Caroline. A lot of men probably would love for that to happen. And I can't say it isn't something I've fantasized about. But you can't stand there and tell me that you didn't take advantage of me. I at least deserve an explanation for why you did it. Did you not at least THINK about what could have happened if we had gotten caught? Do you not give the smallest shit about what that would have done to me and my family?"
Caroline walked slowly to the bench on her back patio and sat down. She set the empty lemonade glasses on a table and let out a heavy sigh.
"Fine," she said. "I guess you're right, Patrick. I do owe you an explanation. And I guess I did take advantage of you." She sat back and a look of exasperation came over her.
"I just want to know what got into you," I said. "I mean, I don't want you or my wife to think that it was something I ever tried to initiate."
"No, no, no, Patrick. I understand that." Tears started to form in her eyes and I almost started to feel shitty for starting this whole conversation. But I couldn't work out here all weekend and at least not talk about it.
"I guess," Caroline continued, "it has just been a really shitty year. First, Dale leaves for that stupid little whore who's young enough to be his daughter. Then, my Dad up and dies with no warning whatsoever and now I'm stuck watching helpless as my mother slowly dies from cancer and COPD. I guess I just wanted to do something that made me feel good and made someone else feel good." She took off her Stetson and shook her sandy blonde hair free. Somehow, the sadness and her tears made her look even sexier and I immediately chastised myself for thinking so.
"You have no idea what it is like to be dumped for someone younger and better-looking than you, Patrick. You have no idea how that kind of rejection feels like," she said.
I felt like now was the time to say something polite. "I would definitely say that Dale's girlfriend is NOT better looking than you. They say people always affair down, Caroline. And to be honest, speaking as a man," I said smirking, "that woman does absolutely nothing for me."
Caroline looked up at me with teary eyes and smiled. "Thanks, Patrick. I needed to hear that. And as far as what happened that day, I am truly sorry. I can only imagine what Clarissa would say and the horrible damage it would have done to both of our relationships with her. She wouldn't have forgiven either of us, I know."
I sat down next to Caroline, but not too close. As I did, the smell of her perfume again found its way to me. "Caroline, what do you think it was that made you do it? The BJ, I mean."
"Yeah, I knew what you meant," she chuckled. "I guess, when I think about it, I just wanted to be able to prove to myself that I could still make a man happy. I wanted to prove that I could still satisfy a man and be everything that he would ever want or need me to be. And I guess I used you as a vehicle for that purpose, Patrick. I had no right to, but I did. I couldn't help but notice that you were getting aroused and I took advantage of you. And I'm sorry. I hope you can believe that."
"Well," I started, "if we're being completely honest with one another, I have to say that it was one of the most intense and mind-blowing experiences with a woman that I've ever had."
Caroline looked at me and smiled. The anger that I had been feeling for over a week finally left me and I saw her as a woman who was dealing with a lot of her own pain. She just wanted to feel good about herself again. True, she used me and took advantage of me. And if the roles were reversed, I probably could have been arrested for bang. A total double standard, I know.
"I appreciate that, Patrick. I just wish Dale would have appreciated my "talents" the way you did."
"What do you think made him not appreciate it? What do you think made him leave?" I couldn't help it. I wanted to know what she thought and why.
"Well," she paused, "to be honest, it wasn't something I did for him much. He didn't appreciate it enough to ever want to reciprocate. His only interest was his own pleasure and never mine. I guess I got tired of it and as much as I wanted to have sex, I just didn't want to with Dale because I never got any satisfaction from it. So I just quit altogether and I guess he decided to go find it somewhere else."
"To be honest with you, Patrick," she continued, "last week was one of the most erotic experiences I've ever had, too. And I'm sorry that it never happens as much or is as satisfying for either of us as we would like," she finished.
The last part of her statement caught me totally off guard. I moved closer to her on the bench.
"Wait...what did you mean by that? That it never happens for us as much as we would like?" Holy shit! What did she know and how much did she know about it?
Caroline reached out and took my hand in hers.
"I know about Clarissa's condition, Patrick. And I know how much it bothers you. It bothers Clarissa, too," she said. "Clarissa has told me all about it and the effect that it has on you, in particular. She knows that your marriage has taken a hit because of it, too."
I started to get angry. "If she knows, then why in the hell won't she do anything about it?"
"You know Clarissa and how headstrong she can be," Caroline said. Yeah, no shit. She didn't need to tell me about THAT. "She absolutely refuses to take anything unnatural for it. She loves you and she's determined to do something about it. She just hasn't found what that is yet."
"If I get a headache," I explained, "I take a damned aspirin. If I get an infection, I take a friggin' antibiotic. Clarissa has an explainable and, according to her doctor, an easily correctable medical condition. I can't understand why she won't do it for me."
"I've tried to get her to," Caroline went on. "I've explained to her that she is putting her marriage at risk by not taking care of the problem. You know what's funny? She was joking with me on the phone a couple weeks ago that she needed three clones of herself," she laughed. "She wanted one to do the cooking and cleaning, one to watch the boys and another clone to have sex with you so she could have free time to herself! She was just kidding, of course."
It didn't make me feel any better. Not only was my own wife not interested in sex with me, but she looked at it like a household chore that she had to do, just like cleaning the damned toilet.
Caroline could see the hurt in my eyes, which now started releasing their own tears. She leaned in close and kissed one of the tears off my cheek. The smell of her Liz Claiborne perfume was getting to be too much. I leaned in closer and kissed her gently but long on the lips. Caroline pulled away briefly, looked me in the eyes, and then kissed me back with even more passion. I could see her chest heave and rise as I kissed her, my tongue searching for hers.
She grabbed my right hand and placed it on her breast and willed me to squeeze it firmly but gently. But that wasn't where I wanted to go. We continued kissing, the passion between us rising each time out lips made contact. I reached down between her legs and caressed my fingers along the bulging folds of her cameltoe through those skin tight Wranglers.
We continue kissing and touching before Caroline stood up and took me by the hand. She led me into the barn and into one of the empty horse stalls. She grabbed one of the large horse blankets off the wall and spread it out on the floor of the freshly cleaned stall.
I slowly unbuttoned her blue Brushpopper shirt and untucked it from her jeans. Damn! Those Lady Wranglers were so tight they looked like they were painted on her. I've never been much of a cub chasing cougars, but right now Caroline was the sexiest woman in the world to me. I reached down and unbuckled her rodeo belt and slowly rubbed my fingers over her bulging cameltoe once again. The heat from her crotch was palpable and I could feel the moistness of her wet vagina soaking through her jeans.
Caroline in turn pulled my sweaty t-shirt over my head and unbuttoned the top button of my Levi's. She ran her open palm over the bulge of my own erection and my dick strained to be released from its imprisonment. I was about to have sex with a beautiful woman who actually WANTED me in return!
I unclasped Caroline's bra, releasing her breasts from their bondage. They sagged ever so slightly, but were still full and felt soft and warm in my hands.
I finished unzipping her Wranglers and slowly pulled them all the way down to her ankles, kneeling as I did so. My face was level with her thin, cotton bikini briefs. The crotch of her panties was already soaked and the smell of her sex was intoxicating.
We laid down on the blanket, kissing and touching, still clad only in our underwear. I took one of her nipples in my mouth and sucked gently, causing Caroline to let out a coo and arch her back. I reached down with my left hand and slid my fingers inside her panties, encountering profuse wetness as I did.
"I want you to fuck me, Patrick. Long and slow!"
I would, eventually. But there was something I wanted to do first. I kissed my way down her chest, her tummy and started kissing her mound through her panties. She slowly thrust her hips upward, silently begging me to take her in my mouth.
I slipped a finger inside the edge of her panties and pulled it to the side, revealing her swollen, pink and soaking wet labia.
I started with a long, slow lick from the bottom of her labia all the way up and slowly suckled her swollen clit.
"Oh, my God! That feels sooooooooo good, Patrick!" she moaned.
I opened my mouth wide, taking the whole of her lips and clit into my mouth. I sucked her into my mouth and made large swirling motions with my tongue. The response of her body told me she had never experienced that sensation before. I could feel her abdominal muscles and the muscles in her legs begin to quiver and I could tell she was on the verge of a powerful orgasm.
Moments later, her juices flooded my mouth and I savored every last drop. The powerful smell of her vagina, combined with the smell of her sweat from working in the sun, brought out a powerful sexual hunger in me.
I continued eating her pussy and bringing her to orgasm after orgasm with my mouth. Finally, she couldn't take any more and guided my mouth up towards hers. She feverishly finished pulling her panties off completely and pulled my boxers off.
I gently brought her legs up to rest on my shoulders and proceeded to enter her slowly. Her pussy muscles were tight from having multiple orgasms and I eased in slowly. Even so, it was pretty effortless given how wet she was.
I was afraid at first that she wouldn't like this position, but she proved extremely limber and flexible. I picked up the pace of my stroking, but she would push on my hips to slow me down if I went too fast. Caroline liked it long and slow and to allow each orgasm to build slowly, culminating in a more powerful release.
She would have two of them this way before she backed me off and had me lie down on my back. She straddled me and rode me cowgirl style and bucked her way to a third orgasm.
We had been fucking for a good 20 minutes. I usually never have that kind of stamina, but something about Caroline brought it out of me. It felt so good to be with a woman who was enjoying it just as much as me and my only concern was to please her right back.
We slipped into a missionary position and I was getting really deep penetration. She was on the edge of yet another powerful orgasm when I felt that familiar dull ache in my groin and knew that my own orgasm was close.
"Inside or outside?" I asked breathlessly. "I'm getting close..."
"Inside! Inside! Don't you dare pull out of me, Patrick!"
It had been over a week and I could tell that I was going to flood her pussy with my semen.
"Oh, shit, Caroline! You feel so goddamned good!" I shouted as I finally released my pent up orgasm.
Caroline screamed my name multiple times as she went over the edge again, too.
I collapsed on top of her, completely spent and as lifeless as a wet noodle. We lay there, completely drenched in sweat and each other's juices. I finally rolled over to the side and my sagging erection plopped out of her now gaping pussy with a loud, wet pop.
I knelt beside her and gave her another deep, passionate kiss. I couldn't believe that I had just got done having mad, passionate sex with the mother of the woman who was the mother of my children. There was something surreal about it as I watched my manly juices ooze and drain from her now well-used pussy.
Caroline just lay there, still breathing heavy, and looked at me and asked, "So? Are you ready to go again?" She reached down and began stroking my cock that was still coated with her juices. Almost immediately, I could feel another erection build.
"You better clear your schedule for the rest of the afternoon! Better yet, you better keep tomorrow open, too!"
We fucked three more times that afternoon, although we moved the action inside to a more comfortable bed and nearer to the showers.
We slept in late the following morning and then had sex twice more before it was time for me to go. We never did finish the fencing project, but I needed to pick up the boys and be home in time for Clarissa to return from her shopping trip. The fences would have to wait until later and I was already eagerly looking forward to the work!
The weekend was absolutely unimaginable for me over a week beforehand. But since that time, it had been all I can think about.
Caroline and I got together twice more after that, first on the immediate weekend after our first time, and then again a week after that.
And that was it. Caroline's divorce from Dale was finalized around Halloween. Around that same time, she began dating the brother of a friend of hers whom she was introduced to. A short while later, she moved in with him in his home near Minneapolis, putting her over three hours away from us. We saw each other less and less after that, although she and Clarissa still talk on the phone for over an hour each night.
Clarissa and I are still limping along. She has made a conscious effort to make more time for us. While that has meant making love at least once a week, she still refuses to take any kind of medication to help improve her low testosterone, relying on herbal cures instead that don't seem to help at all.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

She is trying and I will give her credit for that. But our lovemaking still lacks the passion it once did and certainly doesn't come anywhere near the level of fireworks that Caroline and I were able to achieve.

I still hope that we can get back to that place. But I still think of Caroline often. On the times that we do get to see her, she occasionally steals a glance in my direction gives me a quick wink and a knowing smile.
I can't help but secretly hope that our bare skin hasn't touched for the last time.
SB

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Badge of Betrayal



"Seventeen-Twenty-Five from dispatch," squawked the radio. Liz Harrison, our lead dispatcher, was working the day shift in the communication center. I always loved it when Liz was working dispatch, instead of stuck in her office supervising. Liz had a silky, smoky voice that would make any 1-900 phone sex girl envious.

I keyed the button on my lapel mike for my portable radio, rather than reaching to grab the hand mike from my cruiser's Motorola console radio.
"Dispatch, Twenty-Five, go," I replied.
"Twenty-Five, be advised that we have a report of a possible kidnapping that occurred at 685 Front Street in Red River Falls. Caller indicates a 7 year old girl was taken from that residence by a non-custodial father and female acquaintance. Caller believes that both subjects may be armed and dangerous. Vehicle is described as a Maroon 1998 Plymouth Voyager; Choctaw County plates Victor, David, Adam, Six, Four, Lincoln. All personnel are urged to use extreme caution when approaching subjects. Make your own case. Mason County clear at fourteen-thirty-seven."
Damn! A kidnapping right here in Mason County! Currently, I was patrolling in the southern part of the county and I needed to know if I had an opportunity to position myself between the suspects and their most likely route of egress from the scene of the abduction.
"Dispatch, Twenty-Five acknowledges. Any intel on what direction they might be headed?" I queried.
"Negative, Twenty-Five. Stand by for additional information. Statewide Amber Alert is now in effect. Subject information is being sent via the 'net at this time."
"Dispatch, Twenty-Five. Good copy," I replied.
My name is Sean Patrick Quinn, Jr. But all of my friends, co-workers and most of my family call me Patrick instead. I never cared for Junior much, mostly because me and my old man never saw eye to eye. I was a Deputy Sheriff for the Mason County Sheriff's Department. I was on a fairly routine patrol that hot, sunny August afternoon when the Amber Alert came in over my radio. My current shift schedule had me working one of the day cars from 0700 to 1530. I worked a fairly regular schedule of six days on and 3 days off. I didn't mind the extra work day, compared to a normal 40-hour week and I definitely enjoyed the benefit of having a three-day weekend at the end of every tour.
I was patrolling along County Road Y-29, which is basically a lonely stretch of black top about 15 miles south of Red River Falls, that branches off US Highway 120 and heads westward towards endless miles of open range dotted with a few farms and hundreds of thousands of acres of sheep and cattle ranches. Mason County is big and sparsely populated, save for the city of Red River Falls, and covers nearly 2,700 square miles of territory.
I pulled my cruiser, a 2012 Ford Crown Victoria security officer Interceptor, over to the shoulder of the two-lane blacktop. I glanced at the message that popped up on my Panasonic Quick Book laptop computer that was hard-mounted right above my radio console and the controls for my emergency lights and siren. The laptop definitely made for some cramped quarters, but the information that I could obtain instantly about drivers, licenses, wants and warrants, as well as general criminal background checks provided me with an invaluable tool. I can sacrifice a bit of comfort for essential information.
Sure enough, the Amber Alert message was there, along with some additional information. The message reported the same vehicle, a 1998 Maroon Plymouth Voyager, license plate VDA 64L, registered to one William Raymond Jackson, D.O.B. 6/19/80, Caucasian, age 33, six feet, 2 inches tall, 220 pounds. Hmm. Big bastard! Brown hair, brown eyes, male-pattern baldness with a full beard that was at least as long as his own neck. Everybody loves "Duck Dynasty", right?
I thought, 'Really? William Raymond Jackson? BILLY RAY???'
Jeez! Even the guy's name made him sound like a criminal! Or a country singer, one of the two.
At any rate, the guy had a rap sheet a mile long. Two drunk driving convictions, driving while
barred (no license), simple assault, misdemeanor assault, aggravated assaul, fifth degree theft by
check (Who the hell still writes checks?), 2nd degree theft, (Now that's more like it...), possession of stolen property, 4 counts of possession of a controlled substance, multiple citations for public intoxication, resisting arrest and FINALLY.....one charge of public urination, which occurred within 500 feet of a college or daycare center and resulted in mandatory registration as a sex offender for indecent exposure. Wow! This guy was a definitely one of society's finer sophisticates. No wonder he would never have custody of his child, which the alert said was a 7-year old girl. The subject currently had outstanding warrants issued within the last 72 hours for possession of a controlled substance, intent to deliver and unlawful manufacture of a controlled substance. Meth. Federal charges and no parole if convicted.
Great, I thought, just what I needed to deal with at the end of my shift - a goddamned meth head. The Amber Alert also stated that the subject's last known residence was in Cherokee Flats, the far southeast corner of the state in Choctaw County and a two-hour drive or more at normal highway speed.
The Amber Alert was issued at 1439. My watch currently read 1446.
"Dispatch, Twenty-Five," I radioed.
"Twenty-Five, go for dispatch," came the reply.
"Dispatch, what time was the abduction reported?"
"Twenty-Five, time of call on this was 1432."
Damn! Fourteen minutes ago! Considering the time it would take them to get out of Red River Falls, which was a sizable town of almost 30,000 people, he would quickly be approaching the intersection of Y-29 and US 120, if he were traveling close to the speed limit. If he was really hauling ass, he might even be south of me already.
"Good copy, dispatch."
I punched the accelerator on the big Crown Vic and headed east on Y-29 toward US 120. The big V-8 engine roared to life and the posit traction rear wheels bore down on both gravel and pavement and left a nice pair of black strips on the roadway once both rear wheels finally found asphalt.
I didn't hit my emergency lights or siren just yet. My cruiser is a fully marked car with emergency strobes in my grill, wig-wag headlights and tail lights and a full light bar on the roof. Some officers prefer a semi-marked or unmarked car. I don't. I like people to KNOW that I'm a law enforcement officer when they see me. And I absolutely detest the word cop!
However, I did bring the cruiser up to good speed and I was soon hitting 100 mph. I figured that ought to close the distance fairly quickly between my perfectly honed cruiser and an aging mini-van.
About 3 minutes later, I was near the intersection of Y-29 and US 120. I brought the cruiser to a halt at the intersection and looked both right and left. There was absolutely no traffic coming in either direction. US 120 south from this point was an almost entirely straight stretch of road for five miles before it slightly dog-legged east towards the bluffs along the river.
I decided to turn right and follow 120 south where I looked for a place to stage and where I had good visibility of the highway for at least 2 to 3 miles, both north and south. If the kidnapper was going to take the child back to Cherokee Flats, this is where he would most likely be heading. US 120 is the old highway linking Cherokee Flats and Red River Falls. Interstate 60 is about 5 miles east of here and almost exclusively follows the general contours of the river.
The most likely avenue of approach was going to be Hwy 120. The abductor probably knew that the State Patrol would be crawling all over the interstate. Drivers with their cell phones were almost certainly getting text messages by now sent out through the statewide Amber Alert system.
I pulled in and parked my cruiser next to a long-abandoned gas station and service center on the east side of the road. Just to the south of my position was a car graveyard with several hundred cars rusting away as they baked under the heat of the sun in clear skies on the upper plains. The extra cars would help my cruiser blend in, to a certain degree, and wouldn't give away my position too quickly, even though I was partially hidden by the gas station. All of a sudden I was starting to regret my insistence on being assigned a fully marked cruiser.
I glanced at my watch again. 1451. Nineteen minutes since the kidnapping. If my hunch was correct, they would be by nearly any minute now, provided they hadn't made a jailbreak run and provided they were even headed back to Cherokee Flats in the first place. The Amber Alert carried no information about the female accomplice reported to be accompanying the abductor. That worried me. It wouldn't be until later that I found out why.
I immediately did a quick check of my equipment, concerned that I might be in a real scbang soon. There were six deputies currently on duty in the county at this time, plus six municipal officers currently patrolling in Red River Falls that I could call for backup if I needed. But that backup would definitely take a while to get here. It could easily become "John Wayne time" well before that. And I had absolutely no idea if any State Troopers were in the area or not. My gut told me they were most likely all over on the interstate.
I reached down with my right hand and gently tapped my new sidearm, a shiny nickel-plated Smith and Wesson .40 caliber semi-automatic. I glanced to my right and made sure that my Mossberg 500 Persuader 12-gauge tactical shotgun was secured in its place across the plexi-glass barrier separating the front of the cruiser from the back seat. Secured in the trunk of the big Crown Vic was my Bushmaster .223 caliber AR-15 assault rifle, but the likelihood of that being much use in this situation was slim. That was just in case I found myself in deep shit with multiple armed subjects.
My left hand also subconsciously thumbed at the X26C Taser holstered on the left side of my belt. More than likely, my sidearm would be the first line of defense, as I would have to be able to identify where the little girl was. I quickly checked my belt to make sure all four of my extra magazines were there. With twelve rounds already loaded, that gave me sixty rounds I could put down range fairly quickly.......if I had to. As always, I whispered a silent prayer that it wouldn't come to that.
The corner of my right eye detected movement as I glanced up from the Quick Book. To the north there appeared a vehicle heading towards me. It was still about 2 miles away. I couldn't judge the speed initially, but it didn't appear to be traveling at an overly high rate of speed. US Highway 120 is normally 65 mph anyway. My Decatur Genesis radar gun started tracking them when they were about a mile away and registered only 71 mph. Speeding, yes, but just barely even enough to catch most officers' attention. Most of my colleagues might write a warning for that on a slow day, but won't write a ticket unless they clock you going at least ten miles an hour over the limit.
When the vehicle was about a half mile away, the unmistakable form of an older Chrysler-brand mini-van began to take shape through the heat mirages radiating up from the hot August asphalt. Dark in appearance, the color became evident as it neared the abandoned gas station - maroon. My stomach sank and my heart kicked into high gear. It was show time.
As the mini-van passed, the heavily bearded driver was clutching the steering wheel with both hands and his gaze was focused intently in the direction he was driving. It appeared that my attempts at camouflaging my cruiser in with the background of the salvage yard had worked.
My palms started to sweat as I gripped the steering wheel and my breathing picked up in rate and intensity also. I shifted into gear and pulled out of the gas station and followed the mini-van south onto Hwy 120. I didn't throw on my emergency flashers just yet. I picked up speed to about 80 mph initially to close the distance. I backed off as I got close enough to the van to read the plates -- VDA 64L. Bingo!
The van was in horrible condition. I had noticed that there were no hub caps on the driver's side of the vehicle and the body of the van had considerable rust over both wheel wells. The windshield was noticeably cracked across the entire width. Through the vents of my cruiser's air conditioning, I could smell the choking odor of burning motor oil. I knew that if the mini-van started to flee, it wouldn't be a very long chase before the van suffered catastrophic mechanical failure.
I could see the driver in his door's rear view mirror as he clearly and unmistakably mouthed the words, "Oh, shit!" The sliding door windows and all of the rear windows were darkly tinted and I absolutely could not make out if any, or how many, individuals were in the vehicle with him. Tinted windows might look cool on your car, but they are a nightmare for law enforcement, especially at night.
"Dispatch, Seventeen-Twenty-Five!" I shouted into my lapel mic.
"Twenty-Five, go ahead for dispatch," she replied calmly.
"Dispatch, I have eyes on the suspect's vehicle! Subject is southbound on US 120, just passing mile marker one-zero-five! License plate confirmed Victor, David, Adam, Six, Four Lincoln! Request all units proceed to my location now!" I was getting so excited I was nearly out of breath and I hadn't really done anything yet.
"Good copy, Seventeen-Twenty-Five. Understand you have eyes on the subject. Stand by for further." Now all Liz had to do was call in the cavalry.
"Attention all units and personnel -- be advised Seventeen-Twenty-Five has located the subject and has eyes on at this time. Subject is traveling southbound on Highway 120 and is south of mile marker one-zero-five. Officer in pursuit requests immediate assistance." Even in a crisis, Liz's voice never cracked or changed in tone or pitch at all. She still sounds like a sex kitten, even when I'm amped up and feel like I'm about to shit my pants. I wondered if the Earps felt this way as they took their infamous walk to meet Ike Clanton and Curly Bill Brocius at the O.K. Corral.
"Seventeen-Twenty-Five from Seventeen-Twenty-One!" It was Danny Larson, my friend and fellow Deputy.
"Yeah, go Danny," I radioed back. Personal names are generally prohibited in radio traffic, but I was too excited to care. Apparently, so was Danny.
"Pat, I'm hauling butt as fast as I can, just south of the GM dealership. If you can get 'em stopped soon, I'll be there in about twelve to fourteen minutes!"
Shit! Arenson Chevrolet was a large dealership on the south side of Red River Falls, part of the "Auto Mile" of numerous new and used car dealerships along that stretch. Even at full speed, he was still almost 20 miles away.
"Seventeen-Twenty-Five, this is State Patrol Two-One-Seven. I'm just exiting I-60 at marker seventy-seven."
The mini-van and I were just passing mile marker 100. Danny was still twenty miles away and the Trooper was almost 30 miles away when you included the distance between the interstate and Highway 120. Other deputies and troopers were calling in as well, but none were closer. Red River Falls security officer Department was sending three of their officers as well. But no matter how you looked at it, I was gonna be all alone for the next 10 minutes at least.
All I could muster to say was, "Good copy, 17-21 and 2-1-7."
The driver of the mini-van was still looking nervously back and forth into the rear view mirror, keeping an eye on me and the road in front of him. I was still a good thirty feet behind the van. He knew I was there and it was just a matter of time. Somewhere in that van, there was a little seven year old girl who had been taken violently from her mother. But what scared me the most was not knowing who else was in there besides the driver. The van started slowing down, indicating he was possibly going to stop. I had no choice now.
I reached down and clicked the button on the console and turned on my emergency flashers. I also turned the knob control on my Federal siren console and activated a long wail from the siren letting him know that I was on his ass.
The mini-van pulled over to the side of the road but did not pull completely onto the wide shoulder. I was still a good 30 to 35 feet behind when the decrepit mini-van finally ground to a halt. Having half the vehicle on the shoulder and half on the pavement was an indication that he may have intentions to flee once I step out of the vehicle. I wasn't gonna give him the chance.
I grabbed my Motorola radio's handset and keyed the button for my cruiser's public address system.
"Driver! Pull your vehicle completely off the road and onto the gravel shoulder! Pull your vehicle completely off the road now!"
I could see the driver take a deep breath, put the mini-van back in gear and he slowly inched forward and pulled his vehicle off to the shoulder.
"Driver! At this time, shut off the engine of your vehicle! Slowly remove the keys from the ignition and drop the keys out the driver's window and onto the ground!"
I saw the brake lights of the mini-van turn off and the driver dropped a set of keys out of his window and onto the ground. He was still watching me in the rear view mirror, but he was clearly mouthing instructions to someone else in the vehicle.
With the van shut off, I slowly pulled my vehicle forward and slightly angled it, placing the front left wheel onto the pavement. This would allow me to still keep most of my cruiser between me and the mini-van when I exited the vehicle.
I drew my Smith and Wesson and flipped the safety off, making sure that my finger stayed off the trigger to prevent an accidental discharge of the weapon. I slowly but methodically exited the cruiser and immediately drew my weapon down on the vehicle. My heart was pounding and I could hear the steady drum beat of my pulse in both ears. I gripped my sidearm with my right hand and used my left hand to operate the hand mike.
"Driver! At this time, you and all occupants of the vehicle must exit from the driver's side only! I say again, you and all occupants of the vehicle must exit from the driver's side only! As you are exiting, keep all hands where I can plainly see them! Once you have exited the vehicle, stand with your back towards me and with both hands in the air!"
The driver's door slowly opened and the bearded meth head slowly emerged. I could tell he was still talking with someone. Damn those fucking tinted windows! He stood with the door opened and turned to face away from me with both hands in the air. He wore a ragged charcoal wife-beater t-shirt, blue jeans that were so dirty-and grease stained that you would almost never guess their original color and a pair of tennis shoes with holes worn through both toe ends and heels.
"Driver! I say again! You and all occupants must exit from the driver's side......"
I never finished my command as the back window of the mini-van exploded from the shotgun blast. My windshield was immediately peppered with heavy buck shot from the 12-gauge and a significant chunk of my emergency light bar on the roof was blown to pieces, as well. I immediately felt a sharp pain in the side of my hip and a heavy "slap to the right side of my rib cage as that big shotgun released its anger and fury. The air rushed from my lungs as though I had just gotten tackled by an entire NFL defensive line.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

I instinctively dropped to my knee to let my cruiser absorb most of the blasts as the unknown female inside the van racked and fired the shotgun again and again. Just around the front corner of my cruiser, I could see the bearded meth head clumsily reach in the front of his pants as he let out an intense howl as he bum rushed my car. He finally retrieved the giant Taurus .44 magnum revolver he had been groping for and aimed wildly in my direction as he ran. He tried firing the big hand cannon but it took him a second to realize he hadn't thumbed the safety to the off position. As he did so he stopped briefly. At the same moment the twelve-gauge had run out of ammo.

I leaned left around my door and immediately released a quick double tap from my big .40 cal Smith and Wesson, catching the giant meth head center mass in his chest.
To my horror, he kept coming toward me, raising the big Taurus and firing one of the massive slugs that slammed right into the breast plate of my GH Armor Systems protective ballistic vest. The impact of the slug literally threw me back eight feet and right onto my ass. Amazingly, I didn't drop my weapon and I released another quick double-tap that caught the bastard right in the throat and forehead, respectively. The bearded son of a bitch literally fell dead at the front of my cruiser, his head bouncing hard off the heavy push bumper mounted in front of the grill.
I literally couldn't breathe, first from the shock of the shotgun blast and then the follow-up from the .44 slug that would have ended my life, if not for my top-of-the-line body armor.
I struggled to get back to my feet quickly while furiously trying to will my lungs to draw in air. Just as I was drawing down on the mini-van, I realized I was staring down the barrel of that 12 gauge that was being wielded from the back seat of the mini-van by a scrawny, blonde, anorexic-looking meth-head woman who was screaming like a banshee through her rotten meth teeth. I still couldn't see the little seven year old girl.
I had no choice but to fire.
I let loose another double tap from my Smith and Wesson just as another blast spewed forth from her shotgun. The rear passenger side window of the van shattered and I had no idea if I hit anyone. The screaming had stopped.
Suddenly, my entire right side felt like it was on fire and I could no longer use my right arm. My knees buckled and then gave out on me completely as I collapsed onto the pavement. A few seconds later, the taste of blood began to fill my mouth and I knew that I was critically injured.
As I lay on the hot asphalt highway groping for my sidearm that I had dropped, I could see a bloody, scrawny arm reach down from the driver's seat of the van and grab the keys that lay on the ground there. The arm slowly picked up the keys and closed the door. After what seemed like minutes, the mini-van came to life and clumsily chugged back down the highway. By the time I finally retrieved my weapon, the van was gone.
There didn't seem to be a part of me that didn't hurt. I didn't know where all I had been hit by the shotgun blasts. My body armor did the best it could, but it wasn't completely effective as one of the big shotgun pellets entered my chest wall just under my armpit.
With my left hand, I was able to press and key the lapel mike from my portable radio.
"Dis......patch......seventeen......twenty-five. Officer......down. Need......assistance......and...ambulance......"
The last thing I remember was the approaching sound of distant sirens. And then everything faded to black.
EIGHT DAYS LATER
"Patrick? Patrick....." I could hear a man's voice calling to me from somewhere in the darkness, but I had no idea who it was or where it was coming from. I struggled to find the source of the voice but couldn't find my way through the inky vacuum of nothingness. I was somewhere and, yet, nowhere at the same time.
"Patrick!" the voice called again, but louder this time. "Patrick, open your eyes!"
I started to see a faint glimmer of light. It was fuzzy and blurry at first but then began to shutter like a strobe light, only at a slower pace.
"That's it, Patrick! Keep on coming! That's it! That's it! Open your eyes, Patrick! Open 'em up!"
The light was bright, but not overly so. Soon my eyes were opened fully and the face of a man took shape. A good-looking man he was probably around my age with sandy blonde hair, blue eyes and a patch of hair just under his bottom lip. He was dressed in light blue medical scrubs and encumbered in a white cotton lab coat. The name embroidered in emerald thread above the right breast pocket read "Dr. Nathan Slattery".
"Yes! That's it! Welcome back, Patrick!" The room erupted in applause and I realized that I was surrounded by a roomful of people.
"Patrick? Can you hear me okay?" the doctor asked. How could I not? He was talking overly loud like he was trying to make a kindergartner comprehend theoretical physics.
I nodded my head and tried to answer, but my throat was burning and I couldn't quite make the sound.
"It's okay, Patrick. Don't try to talk, just listen for now. The reason you're having trouble speaking is that you've had a breathing tube in your airway and have been on a mechanical ventilator for the last week. We just took the tube out and it can irritate your vocal cords and throat. You'll be sore for a few days and it will take a while for the swelling in your vocal cords to subside. You'll be hoarse for a day or two, as well," he explained. "My name is Nate Slattery, Patrick. I was the trauma surgeon who operated on you. The rest of the people in the room right now are the team of doctors, nurses and other medical personnel who have been taking care of you."
I looked around the room with my eyes and could only slightly turn my head to either side. My neck was stiff as hell.
"You're going to be stiff and sore for a while, Patrick," Dr Slattery went on. "You've basically been lying in the same position for a week without moving. We're going to gradually work with you to help you get back on your feet, okay?"
I nodded slightly mouthed an "okay".
"Great! I'm going to let you get back to resting again, Patrick. We're going to keep a close eye on things for another 48 hours, especially your breathing. If you seem to struggle with the breathing some more, we may have to put you back on a ventilator again. We don't want to, so hopefully you'll continue to get stronger and breathe more on your own," Dr Slattery finished.
As I looked to the right and left of my hospital bed I could see numerous heart monitors and IV pumps pushing fluids into my body. It looked as if I had tubes coming out of me everywhere but I was too tired to take much more in and my eye lids were quickly becoming heavier and heavier.
"You get some rest now, Patrick. I'll be back later in the day to check on you during my afternoon rounds. But before I go, I just want to say what a pleasure it has been to meet you and be able to help care for you. I know a hero when I see one, sir, and you are the real deal," he said with a wide smile.
As he said those last words, the room once again filled with applause and then one by one, everyone exited my intensive care suite until there was only one nurse who busily fussed over each and every monitor and checked all of my IV solutions to make sure everything was running smoothly. And then I couldn't stay awake any longer and faded back to sleep.
I must have slept the rest of the day and night again because I don't remember Dr Slattery checking on me again. When I awoke, there was a fairly bright ray of sunshine beaming into the room.
A lone nurse, dressed in a royal blue set of scrubs, was intently checking all of my monitors and IVs again and making her notes on a handheld computer charting system of some sort. She caught me looking at her as she was charting my latest set of vitals.
"Good morning!" she chimed with a gorgeous smile. She was young, probably in her early 20's and definitely no older than 25. Her pin straight, sandy hair was pulled back into a single pony tail. Her face was sort of round, with dimpled cheeks and set of very full lips. There wasn't a single tooth in her smile that was crooked or out of place.
Her eyes seemed huge and were undoubtedly the most beautiful I had ever seen. The color was an amazing aquamarine; the kind you wouldn't think could be real. Overall, she was the very dream of the nurse you always fantasize about having if you were hurt or sick.
She bent down towards me and leaned on the handrail of my hospital bed. The view down the front of her scrub shirt revealed some of the most spectacular cleavage I had ever seen. I hoped and prayed right there that it wasn't just the heavy pain medications I was on that were clouding my judgment and that her chest would look just as amazing if and when I ever was off the narcotics.
"How are you feeling?" she asked with a caring smile.
"I dunno. Okay, I think," I croaked in a rusty voice. I examined the two IV lines that were running into my left hand and left arm.
"Well, at least you're talking again. How is your pain, on a scale of 1 to 10?" she quizzed.
I really didn't feel anything when she asked. But when I tried to move my right arm a shot of searing pain burst up through the entire limb and up into my neck to where I could literally feel the pain in my right ear.
"Fuck, that hurt!" It was the most intense pain I had ever experienced. Immediately my eyes began to fill with tears and I was almost on the verge of crying from pain, which I hadn't done since I was a child.
"Here, let me put a pillow under your arm. That might help," she said as she grabbed a pillow from a linen cart just outside my ICU room. She gently lifted my right arm and I braced for another shot of searing pain. But she did it so gently, that I barely noticed a thing. It seemed as though her very touch could alleviate pain. She ever so gently took my right hand in hers and asked, "Can you wiggle your fingers for me?"
I followed her command and moved my fingers somewhat. The simple task caused pain throughout my arm, but it was tolerable.
"Good! That's definitely an encouraging sign!"
She lay my hand gently back on the pillow and I was slightly disappointed that she had let go. The very touch of her hand was exquisite and incredibly comforting.
She returned to my bedside and once again leaned in towards me. Again the sight of her beautiful cleavage was good medicine in itself. But even in my near hallucinogenic state, I mustered the will to not stare too long.
"Doctor Slattery says that he expects your right arm to heal completely. Doctor Sloan was the surgeon who operated on that and Doctor Slattery was very impressed with how well it turned out," my nurse explained.
"What....happened?" I creaked. Her face lost all expression.
"Doctor Slattery said that you were hit by at least two shotgun blasts. They pulled six large lead pellets out of your right arm, one from your right lung and four more pellets from your right hip and thigh. One of the pellets penetrated your right lung so far that it nicked your pulmonary artery. One of them in your leg punctured your right femoral artery. Pretty much everyone is amazed that you're still alive, Mr. Quinn," she finished.
"Wow..." was all I had the energy to whisper.
She placed her hand gently on my left bicep and squeezed ever so slightly. "You're a real fighter, Mr. Quinn. And you're a true hero -- especially to me. The whole state is talking about you and you even made national news," she said with that angelic smile.
I was intrigued to know what all happened. I had no immediate recollection of the event itself. All I knew is that I was hurt and hurt bad. But I was too weak at this point to press for much more.
"I'm going to go finish my charting," she said. "But I will be right outside your room. I have two patients that I'm taking care of and your rooms are side by side. So I promise I will never be too far away. In the meantime," she said as she grabbed what looked like a large TV remote, "you can press the large red button on here if you need anything -- anything at all. And," she continued, "if you feel up to it, you're more than welcome to watch some TV. The TV controls are on the same pad as your nurse call button. But try not to stay awake too long. You need rest and lots of it. You still have a long way to go."
I nodded my understanding as my throat was still too sore to do much talking. Again, she leaned in and gave my left arm a gentle and comforting caress. As I looked at her angelic face and deep aquamarine eyes, I could see tears forming.
"You have no idea how much it means for me to be able to take care of you, Mr. Quinn. Get some rest. And call if you need anything, anything at all." She opened the sliding door to my ICU suite and left for her desk.
I hadn't even asked her name. Fortunately, I saw a large dry erase board near the foot of my bed that listed today's date, the room I was in and the name of my physician and my nurse. Her name was Shannon. Nurse Shannon Sullivan. Irish, just like me. How lucky could I get!
I was tired and groggy, but not quite sleepy. I felt alone, incredibly alone and I missed Shannon already, even though she was only a few feet away. I looked down at the remote and decided to flip on the TV for a bit. The clock in my room told me that it was almost twelve, so I decided to watch a bit of the noon news and see what was happening in the world.
The television was already set to one of the local channels in Red River Falls and the end credits for a soap opera were rolling and the news was next.
The noon news started and a very young male and female anchor sat at a black glossy desk. Our local station, KRFV channel 5, was a typical entry level broadcast job. Most of the anchors and reporters were straight out of college and didn't stick around long. Many of them yearned for better jobs, once they got done cutting their teeth in Red River Falls. A number of KRFV alumni could be seen at TV stations in the Twin Cities, Omaha, Kansas City, Denver, Cheyenne, Billings, Des Moines and many other larger cities throughout the upper Midwest, Great Plains and Rocky Mountain states.
Female anchor: "Good day and welcome to Channel 5 News at Noon. I'm Heather Gilchrist."
Male anchor: "And I'm Dave Conroy. We begin our broadcast with some exciting news coming out of Holy Family Regional Medical Center in Red River Falls. Doctors and hospital staff say that the local law enforcement officer who was involved in bringing an attempted kidnapping to a halt has successfully come out of his medically-induced coma and is now awake, talking and breathing on his own."
Female anchor: "You'll remember that Mason County Deputy Sheriff Sean Patrick Quinn was the first officer to respond to the Amber Alert over one week ago when he spotted the van that was used in the attempted abduction of seven year old Bridget Sullivan." The television cut away and started showing video of the crime scene, including my security officer cruiser, which looked like it had been driven through every single level of Hell. "Deputy Quinn pulled over the mini-van and was immediately ambushed by the driver, 33 year old William Raymond Jackson, and his female accomplice, 31 year old Kimberly Amber Trenton. Both suspects were from Cherokee Flats."
Male anchor: "Jackson was Sullivan's non-custodial father. Sullivan's mother has had a restraining order against Jackson and a judge permanently terminated his parental rights nearly six years ago. Authorities believe that Jackson, who was recently indicted for a series of federal drug charges, may have kidnapped Sullivan to use her as a shield as he and Trenton attempted to escape justice and flee to Mexico."
Female anchor: "As Deputy Quinn pulled the vehicle over, he was ambushed by both suspects and shot several times with a 12-gauge shotgun and a large-caliber handgun. Quinn was able to return fire, killing Jackson at the scene, and mortally wounding Trenton. Trenton attempted to flee the scene, but was found unconscious behind the wheel of the mini-van, which came to rest in a shallow ditch alongside US Highway 120 about a mile from the shooting. The van was located by a State Trooper who had been called in to assist. Trenton had been shot twice in the abdomen by Deputy Quinn. Attempts to revive Trenton were unsuccessful and she was declared dead at the scene."
Male anchor: "Bridget Sullivan was found with her arms and legs duct-taped and lying on the floor of the mini-van between the front and middle seats. She was unharmed through it all and was eventually released back to her mother, Shannon Sullivan, who works as a nurse at Holy Family. A Red River Falls Fire Department ambulance, which was returning from a patient transfer to the Twin Cities, was in the area at the time of the incident and paramedics were able to render emergency care, which doctors at Holy Family credit with saving Quinn's life." The video ended and the camera returned to the two anchors in the studio.
Female anchor: "All week long family, supporters and friends of Deputy Quinn have held vigil at Holy Family, awaiting good news, which finally came today. Doctors at Holy Family have upgraded Deputy Quinn's condition to critical but stable, meaning he is still under the highest level of care but continues to make improvements. News Channel 5 will bring you the latest updates in this story as they occur."
The news continued with a local story about a bank teller in Red River Falls accused of embezzlement. I didn't really care and thumbed the button to click off the TV. The images of the scene of the shooting played over in my mind and my memory of the incident began flooding back into my brain. I was amazed at the video images of the large pool of blood -- my blood -- on the ground next to the open driver's door of my cruiser. My once proud vehicle was so shot to pieces from the repeated close range blasts of that shotgun that it almost looked like it had been driven high speed through a cloud of dragon flies.
There was no way to explain why I was still here. I almost felt guilty about it, knowing that there were people in the world who had succumbed to less severe injuries. All I could do was try to be thankful that I had survived for my wife and boys. But most of all, I thanked God that the little girl, Bridget, had made it out alive. I had shot wildly and blindly. But it appeared that my aim had been true and I had somehow managed to neutralize both suspects.
It suddenly dawned on me that since waking up the day before, I had yet to see my wife Clarissa or my two boys, Nicholas and Jacob.
Reaching down, I thumbed the nurse call button. Shannon appeared at my side instantly, her ample cleavage bounding as she rushed into the room.
"Are you okay? Is something wrong or do you need something?" she asked excitedly.
In a very raspy voice I managed, "Where....is my... family?"
The excited and worried look on Shannon's face turned to one of reservation and concern.
"Well," she started, "Mrs. Quinn decided that for now you need your rest and she will come see you when you are feeling more up to having visitors..." she said kind of nervously.
"I....don't understand..." I said, searching for something to convey my bewilderment. How in the world could my wife not be there at my side when I needed her most? Suddenly, I felt a new pain -- one of anger, hurt and resentment.
Shannon again took my left hand and held it tightly with both of hers. "I...I think Mrs. Quinn just wants you to heal and get better." I detected a lie, not a vicious one, but one of trying to compensate for my wife's inaction and distance. "And besides," she went on, "I don't think she wanted your boys to see you like this. I think she wants them to see you when you're doing better," she finished with a little more hope in her voice.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

I gave Shannon's hands a slight squeeze with my left hand and managed to give her a slight smile, even though I know she could see the hurt and disappointment. I looked away, but not before seeing the sympathetic and disappointed look on her own face.

"But if it makes you feel better," she said hopefully, "I just received word from Doctor Slattery. As long as your latest labs come back okay this afternoon, you will be moved out of intensive care and to a room on the Med/Surg floor!"
I mustered a smile again and said, "Thank...you."
"Get some rest, Mr. Quinn. I'll be right here if you need anything." She turned to go, but I continued to hold on to her hand. For one, it just felt good. And two, I wanted to tell her something. "Yes, Mr. Quinn? Is there something else?"
"Don't....call me...Mister Quinn. Call me....Patrick. Please," I managed with no small effort.
Shannon gave me another heartwarming smile, squeezed my hand again and said, "Okay, Patrick. Get some rest now."
My blood work that afternoon came back showing steady improvement. I still had a couple of infections to fight off, one in my right leg and another in my right arm. But so far, I was still able to remain free of pneumonia, which was a big fear considering my lung injuries.
I still had a chest tube in my right lung, which caused no small amount of discomfort. But the thing that really had me upset the most was the damned urinary catheter they had shoved up my dick. There was just something really humiliating and emasculating about it, although I can't really say why. I guess there are just some things a man needs to be able to do for himself. And one of those things is being able to hold his own dick to take a piss.
Shannon told me that I wouldn't be moved out of intensive care until early the next morning, which she said she was happy about because she would get to take care of me for a few hours longer. I would come to find out that Shannon fought tooth-and-nail for the right to be able to take care of me and insisted on working extra shifts so she could be there for me every day. In total, the surgery that I had after I was brought to the hospital lasted for 16 hours and involved a total of 36 personnel, including 9 doctors who assisted Doctor Slattery.
Shannon's nursing shift ended that night at 7 pm. She knew that I would most likely be in another room by the time she arrived for her next shift the following morning as they would probably try to move me before breakfast. Shannon entered my ICU suite at six o'clock that evening and brought in a small cart with a bowl of soapy water and numerous wash cloths and towels.
"Since you're feeling a little better, I thought I would send you off to your new room with a bath and a fresh set of linens," she said.
I had gained a little more strength throughout the day and my throat didn't hurt quite so much, mostly because Shannon had been allowing me to drink some water and juice through a straw instead of receiving all of my fluids through my IVs.
"You mean, like a sponge bath or something?" I asked.
"More or less," she replied. "We don't really use sponges, just rags and towels. I promise to be careful around the bandages to your right arm and leg, though, and especially around your chest tube. Depending on how your chest x-ray looks tomorrow, that might get to come out, too!"
Shannon was about to help me take off the light gown covering my upper body, as well as the sheet that was covering me from the waist down. It made me kind of nervous because it would pretty much expose me in all of my not-so-much glory and I was extremely self-conscious of the catheter - and also because of the fact that I certainly didn't have the biggest dick in the world, either. I wasn't small by any means, probably on the high end of average.
I also had a pair of testicles that I was extremely self-conscious of, as well. Not because they were small and shriveled, either, quite the contrary. My balls were huge and they damned near hung halfway between my crotch and my knees. I guess I had always been self-conscious of them because the first girl I ever showed my package to was Kathy Steenson back in high college. Kathy wanted the privilege of being the first girl to ever give me a blow job. Instead of getting to know the pleasures of blowing a nut in a girl's mouth for the first time, Kathy was grossed out by what she described as my "hairy, freaky old man balls". Needless to say, Kathy Steenson didn't want to date me anymore after that so it wasn't until I got to college before I got my first blowjob. And I insisted on that being in the dark to avoid the shame and disappointment of a similar experience.
And I really liked Shannon and didn't want to embarrass myself in front of her, either.
"Uh, Shannon?"
"Yes, Patrick?" she replied while prepping for my bath.
"Do you, um, have a towel I could use to maybe.....cover up with a bit?"
Shannon stopped for a moment before saying, "Well, Patrick, it is important that I do my very best to try and get you nice and clean. So I'm going to need to wash everything. You're doing such a great job of fighting off those infections and we don't want you to get hit with another bug while you're on the mend," she explained.
"Oh, I guess you're right," I said. "I suppose it isn't like you haven't seen everything already anyway, either," I replied sheepishly.
Shannon said nothing and turned away briefly, but not before I caught her smiling to herself knowingly. But she remained professional anyway.
Shannon slipped the thin gown off me and pulled the bed sheet above my waist as she was going to start the bath from my head and work her way down. She had put a "Do Not Enter" sign on the sliding door and had closed the interior curtains around my bed. She soaked one of the rags in the warm, soapy water and started around my left ear and neck and proceeded to wipe down my upper body. The warm, soapy water had a soothing effect and I began to feel very refreshed. She helped me sit up for the first time in over a week and gently washed my back. She was very tender and caring, particularly when washing around my incision sites, wounds and my chest tube. It took her about 15 minutes to finish the first half of the bath.
"Okay now, Patrick. We're finished with your upper body. Now we're going to wash from the waist down. I'll start with your feet."
She took the warm, soapy cloth and washed the bottom of my feet, working the rag in between each of my toes. Shannon seemed to have a slight smile of contentment on her face. Not a smile of prurience, but one of a dedicated nurse who truly enjoyed taking care of her patients.
Shannon worked her way up my legs, washing and massaging my leg muscles as she did. I didn't realize how stiff and cramped I was all over. After all, I had been lying nearly motionless in the same bed for over a week prior to yesterday morning.
She eventually worked her way up to my thighs, again being careful of the gunshot wounds to my right leg. But it was when she gently started to wash my groin that things got interesting. Shannon lifted each leg up and washed right up to the bottom of my buttocks. She gently washed my groin and then very tenderly lifted up my scrotum and testicles. The sensation of her washing my private area, especially with a very soft and wet cloth, was exquisite. Without warning, Mother Nature started taking her effect and I could feel the rapid onset of an erection.
Normally, it wouldn't be a huge deal. But when you have a rubber hose the size of a pencil running into your dick, hardons become a problem. It was uncomfortable and I was afraid it was going to hurt soon.
"Um, Shannon, I think I need you to stop," I said. I started to tense up all over.
"It's okay, Patrick. I'm just about finished."
Fortunately, in a way, the discomfort from the catheter prevented me from becoming fully erect. But when Shannon took my semi-erect penis in her hand and began to gingerly wash me, I had to try very hard to stifle a sigh of sexual longing.
"There now," Shannon said with satisfaction. "You're all nice and squeaky clean!"
Shannon retrieved a nursing assistant named Bonnie to come in and help her change the sheets, which is no easy task when there is still someone lying in the bed. When they were finished, Shannon's shift was nearly over. She would give report to her replacement and then she would be free to head home to her daughter. Shannon returned after her report to say goodbye and good night. Again, there were fresh tears in her eyes.
"I want you to know how special it has been for me to be able to help take care of you, Patrick. Having this opportunity meant a lot to me. I feel like I owe you so much for getting my daughter back to me," she said on the verge of crying.
"Thank you for taking good care of me," I replied hoarsely.
"I'll be down to check on you in your new room to make sure they are taking good care of you," she went on, trying to hide her tears. "I gotta make sure my friends down on Med/Surg are keeping a close watch on you."
"I'm sure they will," I replied.
"Good night, Patrick. Rest well." Shannon turned, opened the curtains again and then the sliding glass door to my suite. She paused at the door and turned to give me one last look, gave me another beautiful smile, although sadder this time, and then left the intensive care unit.
I was awakened at 0600 when several nurses arrived, along with my overnight nurse Tina, who then took me to my new room on the Med/Surg floor, which stands for "medical/surgical". It is the floors that patients are often admitted to who have medical illnesses they are being treated for or who are recovering from surgery.
My nurse on this floor was actually a male named Brian who was cool as hell. He was aided by a nursing assistant named Cherie who carried out a lot of the routine check ups such as my vital signs and temperature.
About 10 o'clock that morning, my wife Clarissa finally showed up to visit me, although she did not bring the boys.
I told her how great it was to see her and how much I missed her. I asked her why she hadn't been up to see me before now.
"What do you mean?" she asked, rather angrily. "I spent most of the first week up there! I waited forever while you were in surgery for over 16 hours! And you think I've been ignoring you?"
"Well, no," I said. "But I woke up two days ago and haven't seen you until now. I was just kind of getting lonely and wondering where you were. That's all."
"No one has been ignoring you, Patrick. And I sure as hell wasn't about to let the boys come up here and see you while you were in this condition," Clarissa said as she tried to make herself more comfortable. "Besides, you were in the intensive care unit. The boys and I have all been fighting allergies and stuff and I didn't want to take a chance that we might be coming down with something."
I was still too weak to put up much of an argument. We spent an hour with the docs visiting about what my prognosis was. Dr Slattery and Dr Morganstern, the hospitalist who would be overseeing my care from now on, talked with my wife and I about the future of my care and how soon I might be able to go home. The good news was that I was making progress and Dr Morganstern thought I might be able to leave in about another 4 to 6 weeks. The bad news was, at least to me, is that I would be stuck in a hospital for over another month. It felt like a prison sentence.
After about two hours, Clarissa said she needed to be getting back home and would be back to see me tomorrow.
"Really? You're leaving already? You haven't been here that long," I pleaded.
"Well, Patrick, I've been here for over two hours. I've gotta head home, clean house and get ready for the boys to come home from college. They're gonna be starving. Plus, I have to feed the horses, the calves and the rest of the animals. I can't stay here forever," she said as she put on her jacket.
I couldn't understand why Clarissa would be acting so distant and reserved. I figured she would be ecstatic to see her husband doing better. Instead, she acted more like a regular visitor instead of my wife.
"Yeah, okay," I said, defeated. "Be sure to tell the boys that I love them and can't wait to see them. Maybe you can bring them by tomorrow? I don't think I can handle not seeing them for one more day."
"Well, you've already gone well over a week without seeing them. One more day or two isn't going to hurt. We've got to think about them and how this is all affecting them, too, you know. I'll see you tomorrow." Clarissa walked over, gave me a quick kiss on the forehead and left the room. And just like that, she was gone.
I started breathing quicker, my chest swelled with pain, and I was afraid I was going to burst out in hysterical crying right there. My heart rate shot up and soon my nurse Brian was in the room to see if I was okay.
"Yeah, yeah," I assured him. "I'm okay. Just really missing my kids right now," I told him, trying to hide being suddenly and overwhelmingly pissed at my wife.
I couldn't believe that Clarissa was so cold and distant. I know that if she had been sick or injured, wild horses wouldn't have been able to drag me from her side. She and I have had our ups and down over the years, particularly ever since I got hired at the Sheriff's Department a couple of years ago. The move for me from Red River Falls PD to the Sheriff's Department had been a good one for us since it allowed us to move from Red River Falls out into the county where we purchased a small ten acre ranchette.
Clarissa had been diagnosed with a low testosterone disorder, which greatly affected our intimacy. She could have chosen to take her doctor's advice and accept a prescription for a medication which would almost certainly take care of the problem. Instead, my wife always opted for herbal remedies that she insisted were healthier for her but did little or nothing to help her condition. After a great many arguments on the subject, I decided that any sex with Clarissa, no matter how infrequent, was as good as it was going to get for me. It wasn't worth me risking my boys growing up in two households to get a divorce. So we just continued on, Clarissa doing her thing and me wallowing in my celibacy. I don't even need all of the fingers on one hand to count the number of times we have had sex in the last year.
The only bright spot occurred almost two years ago, shortly after I became a deputy. Things were pretty rough between me and Clarissa. My mother-in-law Caroline was going through a rough patch herself with her third divorce at the time. While helping me out at our acreage one day, Caroline sensed an opportunity and proceeded to give me the most amazing blow job I had ever received. It was the kind of blow job where my testicles ached for a few hours afterward due to the ferocity with which I had blown my load in my mother-in-law's mouth! Things only escalated from there over the next month or so when I helped Caroline out at her small acreage that she was preparing to leave following the divorce. Whether it was in the horse stalls in the barn, her living room, her enormous king size bed -- Caroline and I fucked every which way you can imagine and then some. It was the most amazing and fulfilling series of sexual encounters in my life.
And as quick as the trysts had started, they ended just as fast. Caroline met a man and eventually moved to the Twin Cities and we saw her less and less. I still think about her often, though, and the mind movies of our sexual encounters still produce an instant and raging erection. On the extremely rare occasions when Clarissa and I do actually have sex, I'm almost ashamed to say that I spend most of the session thinking about her mother. Almost ashamed.
The whole affair caused me a small amount of guilt. I'm not that big of a pig that I felt no remorse over stepping out on my marriage briefly. But that guilt has steadily faded over the last year each time I have been rejected and refused by my own wife. And the guilt has been replaced by an increasing sense of anger, jealousy and confusion. I always told myself that if I didn't know better, I would think she was having an affair.
I didn't think it was possible because Clarissa was a stay-at-home Mom. Until this year, she had been homecollegeing both of our boys. But now that both were getting older, they decided they would like to be with their friends in public college. I detest the nearly 1 hour bus ride they endure daily each way to get to college in Red River Falls, but the boys seem happy. And that's what is most important to me and their Mom.
The following day Brian gave me the excellent news that he would be in shortly to remove my urinary catheter. I was almost ecstatic. It didn't even bother me that he was going to have to hold my penis with his own hands to do it, either. I was just glad that they were going to take that damned tube out of my dick!
Clarissa didn't show up that day until almost supper time. I tried calling the house several times but got no answer. But when she did arrive, she had the best medicine - she had brought the boys with her.
Nick and Jake both shouted "Dad!" and rushed to my side. Clarissa admonished and cautioned them to be careful as I still had injuries that were slowly healing. The boys both hugged me on the left side of my body and were very careful about the remaining IV in my left arm and my chest tube. With luck, the chest tube would be getting removed the following day.
The boys talked pretty much endlessly for two hours straight, telling me all about their friends, college, sports and what they thought of my whole experience. They told me that all of their friends thought I was a hero and thought it was so cool that I had shot and killed two very bad people. That got to me a bit. Even though I was very glad that little Bridget was okay, I still hadn't been able to wrap my head around the fact that I had taken the lives of two people. Even still, it made me happy to know that my boys were proud of me. I couldn't help but be glad to sense that my experience had even given my sons a little bit of gravitas of their own, especially for Nick who was my oldest and who was now navigating the social minefields inherent in junior high college - especially since he was basically a new kid in college, despite living in or near Red River Falls his entire life. Even though homecollegeing is becoming more and more prevalent, especially in Mason County, there is still a bit of a social stigma to being a home college kid. Anything to help deflect the attention of a bully away from my kids was a good thing. And if the cause of that was me shit canning a couple of meth heads, then so be it.
At precisely 7 pm Clarissa said, "Okay, boys. It's time to head home. Tell Dad good night and you'll see him again soon." The boys both whined their displeasure and asked if they could stay a bit longer, to which my wife adamantly said, "No! Grab your stuff so we can go. It's still a college night and you both have homework."
I hugged both boys tightly with my one good arm and told them to come see me soon. Before she left Clarissa turned to me and said, "Do you need anything before I come back again?"
"Well," I said with a slight smirk on my face, "they did take my catheter out today. Maybe you could sneak back in later after visiting hours and we can fool around a bit."
"Oh, God, you're pathetic," she said rather loud and with some hidden contempt. "Is that all you ever think about? Even when you're near death? The answer is no, I won't be coming back later tonight. But if you really need something, I can bring it tomorrow or whenever."
"Okay, okay. Jeez. Keep your voice down." I figured everyone out in the hall probably heard her. "If you want to bring me something then get me some decent toothpaste and a toothbrush. All these pain meds make me sleep so much that my mouth tastes like a urinal and I have constant morning breath."

[Ramesh_Rocky]

"Wow. Thanks for the disgusting play-by-play. I'll stop by the supermarket on the way home and bring you one tomorrow. For now," she said leaning over, "I'll say good night with a kiss on your forehead."

I tried to maneuver for a real kiss, but I wasn't fast enough lying there in my bed. And just like that, she was gone.
I didn't have much time for self pity, thank God, because no sooner had Clarissa and the boys left when I was greeted with a surprise.
"Hey, stranger! You're looking better already!" Shannon appeared in my doorway. Boy, was she a sight for some ridiculously sore eyes!
"Hi, there," I said. "To what do I owe the surprise?"
"I told you that I was gonna come back and check on you regularly. I gotta make sure my buddy Brian is taking good care of my hero!" she said with her million dollar smile.
I couldn't help but become sheepish. "Ah, I'm no hero," was all I could come up with.
"Um, hello!" Shannon retorted as she put down her backpack and plopped into the chair next to my bed. "You're only the man who saved my daughter's life and single-handedly made sure that no harm will ever come to her again."
Suddenly, Brian appeared in the doorway looking worried and nervous. "Everything alright?" he asked as he made a beeline towards my heart monitor. "Your heart rate just went from about 70 to 130 just a minute ago."
I could feel my face turn bright red and I could barely catch my breath. Shannon just looked away from me, blushing herself, and smiling. Brian just stood there, trying to make sense of a suddenly awkward moment.
"Uh," he muttered, "I guess it, uh, looks like, um, everything is okay. So, I guess I'll, uh, head back to my station. Hit the button if you, uh, need anything, okay?"
I nodded and Brian sheepishly made his exit from my room. Shannon still smiled and looked down at the floor while I groped with something to say that would hopefully not sound too stupid.
"Sorry," I nearly whispered from embarrassment. "I guess you caught me off guard when you showed up like that. Must've startled me or something," I said trying to find some confidence.
"Right, right," Shannon said nodding while trying to find her own courage to look me in the face again. "I can be pretty scary sometimes," she said giggling.
God, she was cute when she laughed! I was totally busted and my obvious attraction to her was now completely exposed. And she knew it. Even the appearance of my own wife couldn't so much as cause my heart to skip a beat. But when Shannon showed up, my heart started racing like a Thoroughbred.
"So listen," Shannon said, forcing the conversation along. "I have a favor to ask."
"Yeah?" I was all ears.
"I was wondering if it would be all right to bring my little girl by some evening to say hello. She has been dying to meet her hero -- her words, not mine -- and I promised that I would talk to you to see if you would mind having a little visitor," she asked with anticipation.
I was dumbfounded by her even asking and blurted out, "Of, course! I would love to see her. I've been dying to meet her and get my own eyes on her to make sure she is okay. The last couple of nights since I've been out of intensive care I keep having these weird, freaky nightmares and each of them involve something bad happening to your daughter."
"Oh, my God!" Shannon said putting her hand on my shoulder. "That's awful! I'm sure you probably have post-traumatic stress from all of this. And the narcotic pain meds you've been getting can make it worse."
It was true. Since I woke up a few days ago, my sleep has been torturous with the repeated images of everything that happened along that highway. I was starting to relive it in my dreams and it was consuming my thoughts a lot of the time that I was awake, especially when I was alone.
We visited for a few more minutes before Shannon had to get home to her daughter. She said she would check on me again after her shift tomorrow and that she would bring Bridget by soon. I told her I would enjoy that very much and eagerly looked forward to the visit.
The next week went by a little quicker. They took me to the surgical suite to remove the chest tube that had been sticking out of the right side of my rib cage. The side of my chest was still quite sore, but it felt great not to have that giant tube tying me down like some sort of umbilical cord.
My day nurse, Brian, and his nurse assistant, Cherie, were getting me out of bed and actually taking me for 20 to 30 minute walks up and down the hallway of my hospital floor. I still had difficulty moving my right arm but was at least able to bear weight on the right leg and walk slowly. I was getting better at moving my fingers on my right hand and by the end of the week had actually been able to drink a small glass of juice using my right hand. A big accomplishment, considering that my right arm had taken the brunt of two shotgun blasts.
Clarissa and the boys had visited several times, but never for two days in a row. It was really starting to piss me off. I could sense that the boys were having trouble with it, too, and repeatedly asked their mom if they could come see me every day. Clarissa always responded, "we'll see" but had yet to show two days in a row.
Shannon had several days off from work, but on that Sunday evening at the end of my 3rd week in the hospital, she had surprised me with a special visitor.
"Knock, knock," I heard as they entered the room. I had been watching a news program on the TV at the time and looked over at the door to see Shannon and her daughter standing there. The sight of the two of them together was a sight to behold and the first thought that came to mind was that they could easily win a mother-daughter look-alike contest.
"Well, hello there!" I said, smiling and doing my best to seem charming.
"Bridget? This is Patrick. He's the man who helped you the day you were taken from me," Shannon explained.
I expected Bridget to be a shell-shocked little girl who was still struggling greatly to come to grips with a terrifying and horrifying experience. What I found instead was an incredibly well-adjusted, intelligent and precocious little young lady.
"Hi, Patrick! It is very nice to meet you!" she said with a huge smile. I sat up on the edge of my bed to make myself a little more presentable.
"Well, hello Bridget. It is very, very nice to meet you, too," I said returning her smile. She was very bubbly and personable, even from the beginning and not at all reserved like you would expect most little girls to naturally be around strangers.
"I have something for you," Bridget said brightly. "I made a picture for you. Can I give it to you?"
"Oh, my goodness! I can't wait to see it!"
Bridget presented me with a colorful drawing of me with my green sheriff cowboy hat and a big star badge on the shirt. In the drawing I was holding hands with a little girl wearing the same color of shirt and pants as Bridget.
"It's a picture of you and me, Patrick. You can put it on the wall in here so you can see it all the time," she said proudly.
"Absolutely! I want it to be the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning. Thank you very, very much Bridget. You are a very talented artist," I said overly complimentary. Bridget soaked it up.
We spent the next half-hour or so visiting before my weekend nurse, Tonya, came in to inform me that it was time for my evening walk. Shannon was about to get Bridget and herself ready to go home for the night, but I spoke up before they could go.
"Bridget? It is time for me to get my exercise in for tonight. Usually, I use a cane or a walker to help me walk. But I think I can walk pretty well if I have someone's hand to hold. Would you like to take me for a walk tonight?"
Bridget literally beamed ear to ear. "Sure, Patrick! I'll take you for a walk and I won't let you fall down even once!" she exclaimed with determination.
"Whew!" I said, pretending to wipe my brow. "That's a big load off my mind! Now I won't be quite so nervous."
Tonya led us out into the hallway. I kept my left hand on the rail of the hallway and held Bridget's hand with my right.
"Don't hold Patrick's hand too tight, Bridget. That's the arm that got hurt very badly," Shannon cautioned her eager daughter.
"I won't, Mom. I promise," came the chipper reply.
We walked and visited for about 20 minutes or so, making several trips up and down the hall. Bridget looked as pleased as can be to be helping a grownup, as she put it. She felt very important. I couldn't get over how well-adjusted she seemed to be and wondered where the natural courage and strength came from in someone so young.
Shannon either walked behind us at times or stopped to visit with friends and colleagues on the Med/Surg floor. She kept a steady eye on us the entire time, occasionally smiling at me. I figured she was a tiger mom keeping close watch on her cub, but I couldn't also help but sense that she was keeping a close eye on me and my nurse, Tonya, to make sure I was being taken care of, too. I surmised that once you were a patient of any nurse, you were always looked upon as that nurse's patient, no matter the time or place. Kind of like the way your favorite grade college teacher is always going to be your teacher, no matter what.
I was pretty wiped out by the end of our walk, but even my nurse Tonya was impressed by how well I did. I gave all the credit for my progress to Bridget, which she eagerly accepted. I returned to my room tired, but grateful to have had the company. As Tonya helped me back into my bed, I wished that the walk could have lasted a little longer.
"Well, pumpkin," Shannon said, running her fingers through Bridget's hair, "we better get back home and let Patrick get some rest. You did a very good job helping him tonight. I'm very proud of you," she said, smiling at me.
"I'll come back another time and walk with you again, Patrick, and help you get better some more," Bridget said very seriously.
"That would be fantastic. I can't wait," I replied. And with that, Bridget proceeded to give me the biggest and tightest hug that I can ever remember receiving from a small child, even when my boys were little.
A very sentimental look came over Shannon's face and her eyes started to glisten with tears. She mouthed the words 'thank you' to me and I returned them as well.
"I work 7 am to 7 pm tomorrow. I'll try and sneak in when I get a chance, okay?" Shannon said as she got ready to leave.
"I'd enjoy that."
"Okay," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow." Bridget smiled and waved as they left the room and Shannon gave me one last glance.
I settled back into bed and flipped on the TV to try and make myself groggy so I could get back to sleep. But all I could think about was walking with Bridget and how peaceful and at home I felt in the presence of her and her mother. I wasn't sure what it was that made me feel that way but they had both charmed their way into my life and I was sure that I was going to be a part of theirs in some small way from this day forward.
I was in such a good mood at that point that it wasn't until later that I realized I wasn't even angry about the fact that Clarissa hadn't come to see me that day. Although, spending time with little Bridget made me miss my boys and I was suddenly angry that I hadn't gotten to see them today. It was a Sunday and Clarissa should have taken them to Mass today at St Matthew's. The church was only about 8 blocks from the hospital and there would have been no real reason not to stop by on the way home from Mass.
I picked up the phone and called our house so I could at least talk to the boys for a while. My son Nick picked up the phone and we chatted for about 20 minutes or so. He then let me speak to my youngest son, Jacob, who still isn't much of a conversationalist on the phone yet. When I finished speaking to Jacob, he put his brother back on the phone.
"Is your mom handy?" I asked Nick.
"She's here but she's on the computer right now. She told me not to bug her until she's done," Nick explained.
"How long until she's off the computer?" I queried.
Nick paused a while. "I dunno," he said. "She's been in there for a couple of hours."
"Can you tell her that I called and would like to talk to her?"
"Okay," he said. Nick put down the phone for a bit. About three minutes later he returned and said, "Mom said she's busy and that I'm supposed to talk to you. She said she'll see you tomorrow."
I could feel the blood rushing to my face as my anger started to build again. I was getting tired of being treated this way and we were going to have a serious come-to-Jesus meeting if it continued.
I said my goodbyes to Nick and Jake and hung up the phone. Instead of going to sleep, I spent much of the rest of the night flipping through channels on the TV and trying to formulate my thoughts and the words I was going to have with Clarissa the next time she came to see me at the hospital.
I finally fell asleep about 3 or 4 in the morning, after several mild admonitions from my nurse about how I should be sleeping instead of watching TV. I threw a couple of lame excuses her way but I think she could tell that something was bothering me. But she was kind enough to let it go and not press me about it.
I slept for a few hours and was greeted by Brian entering my room around 10 o'clock telling me I had a visitor. To my great surprise, it was my boss, William "Bud" Roberts, Sheriff of Mason County. Bud and I had been fellow officers years ago at Red River Falls PD. A few years after he became Sheriff, Bud invited me to apply for a job as a Deputy, which he told me would enable Clarissa and I to move out of Red River Falls and onto an acreage, which we had always wanted.
"By God, there's the hero!" Bud bellowed as he came into my room.
"Bud! I'll be damned! You're a sight for sore eyes, even as ugly as you are!" I joked.
"Yeah, well, we can't all look as pretty on TV as you do, superstar," he said slapping me on the left shoulder. Bud was an imposing man in personality. He was generally about my size but had always had a definite political streak in him, which he probably needed in order to be elected Sheriff. Bud was about 16 years older than me, in generally good shape for his age with a slightly heavier-than-normal runner's build and just a hint of a gut to show his 53 years of age. His salt-and-pepper hair was immaculately coiffed with a perfect part on the left side and combed to a razor's edge across the top of his forehead. He looked more like a TV anchorman than a Sheriff, especially since he preferred to wear a suit-and-tie with his badge on his belt and a mini badge pin on his right lapel and an American flag pin on his left lapel. Bud got serious for a moment and a look of concern crept across his face.
"How are things going for you in here?" he asked.
I let out a long breath. "Well, things in here are progressing fairly well. I'm going to start the physical therapy on my arm tomorrow. I've already got considerable range of motion back in my arm that they thought wouldn't appear for several weeks or even months yet. So," I continued, "I still have hopes of being out of here in a couple of weeks."
"I'm glad to hear that," Bud said, smiling. "I want you to know how proud of you we all are over at the law center. Everyone has been praying for you and pulling for you. Hell, the whole Sheriff's office has looked like a damned greenhouse the last few weeks with all of the flowers and plants people have dropped off."
"Unlike my hospital room?" I said, gesturing all around me and chuckling. My hospital room itself looked like a small flower shop with all the well-wishes.
Bud and I spent the next 45 minutes chatting and updating me on the status of the investigation. He told me that the Department of Criminal Investigation had cleared me in the investigation and declared that the shooting was legal. There was some question on my tactics during the initial phase of the investigation, but the video from my cruiser's dash camera showed that the mini-van had begun to slow down, indicating that the driver and his associate were looking for a fight. As such, I had no choice to but engage at that point.
As far as shooting the woman, it was declared to be a "clean" shoot also. Even though I couldn't identify Bridget's location at the time, there was no way not to expect me to defend myself against a strung-out meth head wielding a 12-gauge shotgun. I did my best to identify my target and the results were self-explanatory and better than anyone could have hoped for.
Bud and I talked for a little while longer and he informed me that I had been officially on my 30-day mandatory leave since the shooting. All of that and more would be eaten up during my hospitalization. I was still entitled to full pay and benefits, though.
"Is there anything else you need me to take care of while you're in here?" Bud asked as he was getting ready to leave. I told him I couldn't think of anything. Before he left, he paused and asked one more question. "How is your family doing through all of this?"
I leaned back in my bed and let out a slow, long breath. "The boys are doing okay. They are excited about coming to see me and can't understand why they don't get to come more often."
"And Clarissa?" he prodded.
"Clarissa.....Clarissa and I aren't holding up as well," I finally admitted. It felt good to tell somebody and get it out in the open.
Bud sat back down and pulled his chair closer to my bedside. "Go on," he said.
I told Bud about all the emotional distance and frustration, the snide remarks and veiled ridicule and the total disinterest in me since the shooting. I ended up venting for almost another 45 minutes. Bud sat there quietly, listening intently and taking it all in. When I finally finished unloading, he looked down before speaking.
"You know," he began slowly, "it isn't easy being the wife of a law enforcement officer, no matter where you work. I know it's really tough for you right now with everything your job has put you through. But you also have to understand what Clarissa went through, too. All of a sudden she was faced with the very real possibility of being a widow and raising two boys on her own and trying to run a small farm, put food on the table...I could go on and on. I'm sure the whole experience just scared the hell out of her, Pat."
I kind of bowed my head in shame. I knew Bud had a point, but I also couldn't help but think there was more to it. Much more.
"I hear ya, Bud, I really do. But there are just some things that don't really mesh anymore - things that go back to before the shooting, even. Things just haven't been right for a long time now and I just don't know what to do about it."
Bud stood up from his chair and stood at my bedside for a few moments before answering.
"I'm no relationship expert, God knows that," he said sternly. "As I said before, it's a pretty damned tough job being the wife of a cop, no matter where you work, big city or small." He put his hand on my left shoulder, got very intense and serious and said, "As much as you are gonna hate what I'm about to say, I'm gonna say it anyway. Some women just aren't cut out to be the wife of a cop. And that's nobody's fault, either."
I was stung by the words, even though there was a lot of truth behind them. If things were this bad between Clarissa and I now, especially when I needed her the most, how bad would things get once I was out of the hospital and back on my feet.
"You know," Bud said turning at the doorway, "Floyd Franklin put in his retirement packet last week. I hadn't had a chance to tell you before now. With your resume, education and background, I think you should apply for his position when you're back on your feet."

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Floyd Franklin retired? Jesus! Floyd was a Captain and Chief Deputy. He had been second-in-command after the Sheriff and, yet, was a non-political position in the department. It would mean straight day hours, Monday-thru-Friday and would eliminate patrolling altogether. For Clarissa, it would mean not having to worry about me doing car stops and chasing bad guys like I was doing as a Deputy.

"Wow! I mean, yeah, Bud. I'll definitely consider it!" The thought of being Captain and Chief Deputy left me with hope that I could give Clarissa some good news and maybe start to thaw the ice a little with her.
"Sounds good, Pat. You take care and I'll stop to see you again real soon, okay?" He patted me on the chest one last time and left.
The next few weeks were the toughest as I began daily physical therapy sessions for about 6 hours a day. They were painful and exhausting but totally worth it. I made tremendous strides, helped by the fact that I had always been in good shape and exercised regularly at our own gym in the law enforcement center our department shared with Red River Falls PD. Soon, I had regained about 60 percent strength in my right arm and I was walking normally and even jogging on the treadmill for about 20 minutes at a time. I wasn't breaking any speed records, but I was definitely far ahead of the pace that my medical team had figured shortly after the shooting.
Clarissa continued to piss me off with her sporadic visits. Too often, she wouldn't bring the boys for one reason or another and I was only getting to see them 2 or 3 times a week. I prayed like hell that I would finally get the word to be discharged so I could go home and spend time with my boys and get to the bottom of why my marriage seemed to be sinking like a damned rock.
Shannon, however, became a life saver. She still stopped in to see me almost every night when her shift in the ICU ended and she brought Bridget in to see me at least twice a week when Shannon wasn't working. Other than my boys, I almost looked forward to seeing Shannon and Bridget more than Clarissa. At least their visits never ended with a stupid, pointless argument.
Finally, Dr Slattery gave me the news that I had been waiting to hear -- I was finally going to get to go home. It was a Friday afternoon and I would be discharged the following morning.
I couldn't wait to give Clarissa, Nick and Jake the good news. When they arrived after college was out, the boys were ecstatic. Clarissa? Not so much.
"Oh, crap!" Clarissa said after getting the news.
"Why? I figured you'd be happy," I said.
"The house is a total disaster right now, Patrick. I have a million things to do before you come home, clothes to clean, groceries to pick up. I thought they were going to give us a better idea of when you were ready to leave," she said frustrated.
"Who gives a shit what the house looks like? I couldn't care less! I'm just thrilled to finally get to come home to my family!"
Clarissa let out a long sigh. "Boys, why don't you two give me and your dad a minute and go hang out in the waiting room and watch TV?"
"Sure, Mom," Nick said dejectedly. Both boys were old enough and smart enough to know when an argument was coming.
Clarissa stood in front of me with her arms folded while I sat on the edge of the bed. "Is there any possibility they can discharge you tomorrow afternoon or Sunday?" she asked point blank.
I was stunned and actually had to blink my eyes a couple of times. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I demanded. "Why in the hell are you not looking forward to me coming home? Why are you so interested in keeping me here? What the fuck is going on?"
Clarissa's shell started to crack and I saw tears forming in her eyes. "You know, life doesn't just stop because you're in the hospital, Patrick!" she stormed. "There are chores to do on the farm, boys to take care of, meals to fix, bills to get paid! And every time I come visit you there is always some sexually-charged remark from you about getting it on right here and right now, as if that is the only thing you care about! Have you ever stopped to consider what it has been like for me the past seven weeks? Do you know or care how it has been for the boys?"
"No, I don't," I replied in a sarcastic tone. "I guess that is probably because I only ever see you and the boys a couple of times a week since I got in here. I have friends that stop to see me more than my own family does. And have you forgotten how the fuck I actually GOT here, Clarissa? Oh, that's right! I almost got my ass shot off protecting a little girl!"
Shannon just stood there shaking her head, tears streaming down her face. "Yes, Patrick" she said, sniffing. "I know how you got here. We all know how you got here. That's all the boys and I have been hearing about for the last seven weeks. I don't need you to remind me of that every day, Patrick."
"Impossible," I said coolly. "You're only here a couple of times a week. So I can't remind you every day," I said sarcastically.
"Fine. Fine," she said grabbing her purse. "Just let me know when you'll be coming home."
"I already told you," I said, pissed. Clarissa turned and started walking out of my room. "I'll be home tomorrow morning. Come hell or high water, I'm getting the fuck out of here tomorrow morning. If you're not here, I'll call somebody else to bring me home," I called out after her as she left.
I knew she could still hear me but she said nothing. In my room, I sat alone on the bed and just hung my head in defeat. I had come all the way back from death's door. And now, as badly as I wanted to leave this hospital, I was beginning to dread the idea of going home. Those two fucked up meth heads nearly took my life. It appeared the whole ordeal was going to take my marriage and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Only moments after Clarissa left, a shadow appeared in the doorway. I looked up and saw Shannon's angelic form in the threshold.
"I'm so sorry, Patrick. I didn't mean to eavesdrop or anything, but..." her voice trailed off.
I couldn't help but smile. "Don't worry. You did nothing wrong," I assured her. "Just a lot of stress over the last couple of months is starting to boil over. Do you wanna sit down or anything?" I asked as I stood up.
"Um, no, I probably should get going home. Just wanted to stop and say hi before I pick up Bridget from my Mom and Dad's place," she said, finally managing a smile.
I quickly filled an awkward gap. "Hey! Did you hear the good news? I'm finally getting out of here tomorrow."
She gasped. "Oh, my God! That is so amazing! When? I wanna make sure Bridget is here to see you off!"
"Some time tomorrow morning, maybe around ten or so. At least that's what Dr Slattery said this morning."
"Wow! Finally getting to fly the coop. I'm sure your boys will be so happy to have their dad back home," she said.
"Yeah, I can't wait. Gonna be great to ride horses again, get back to work. Of course, I still have a lot of physical therapy yet. But the Sheriff said I could come back on light duty when I'm ready," I said anxiously.
"I'm so happy for you, Patrick. I am so incredibly happy," she said. I could see her eyes start to glisten as tears of happiness started to well up. What the hell is it with me making women cry these days? "Well, I'm sure you've gotta get ready for your big day tomorrow. I better go pick up my little munchkin."
Shannon put down her jacket and reached out to hug me. Her body seemed to melt into mine as we embraced and I can't remember the last time hugging someone felt so good. The warmth of her body and the scents of her hair and light perfume created a haze of bliss for me that I didn't want to end. We held each other tight for what seemed like an incredibly long time, each of us not wanting to let the other one go. It came to the point where it started to feel awkward to keep hugging and, yet, it would have felt more awkward and uncomfortable to let go.
I cocked my head slightly to the side so I could whisper in her ear. "Thank you, Shannon. For everything. I wouldn't have made it through this without you."
Shannon returned the sentiment by whispering in my own ear, "No. Thank YOU, Patrick. You saved my little girl. I owe you a debt I can never repay in my life time."
The feel of her breath against the skin of my neck and ear was electric and shot up and down my spine, literally standing my hair on end. I gave her one last squeeze to hold her tighter, which only made her cling to me tighter, too.
We both sensed it was time and simultaneously eased our embrace. As we slowly pulled away from each other, Shannon gently cupped my face in her hands and kissed me gently on my left cheek.
"Good bye and good night, Patrick. I'll see you in the morning."
She left the room but the scent of her was a presence there long after she was gone. I could barely concentrate the rest of the evening as I packed up my few belongings that I had with me. I at least had set of black Minnesota Vikings sweats that I could wear when I left in the morning. And as much as I should have been anticipating the moment tomorrow when I got to leave, all I could think about was Shannon. Anticipation gripped me the rest of the night and very little sleep came my way.
At 9:30 the next morning, I was greeted by the entire nursing staff of my floor that was there along with a wheelchair. Brian, my steadfast nurse for the past umpteen weeks, was there to chauffeur me from my room to the front of the hospital.
As we made our way down to the cavernous lobby and main entrance to the hospital, I was stunned to see several hundred well-wishers there to see me off. My entire medical team was there as was the entire Mason County Sheriff's Department and Red River Falls security officer Department, save for those who were actually on duty. A parade of security officer cruisers from both departments, as well as two fire trucks from Red River Falls Fire Department, was there to escort me to the city limits. Sheriff Bud Roberts was waiting with his department-issued Chevy Suburban, along with Clarissa, Nick and Jake, to take me home.
Waiting near the Suburban were Shannon and Bridget. I stood from my wheelchair and picked up Bridget for one last big hug, while dozens of photographers and videographers from the local media captured the moment.
Bud, of course, shook my hand and was all smiles for the camera. Clarissa did her best to play the part, too, but Nick and Jake actually were genuinely happy to see me. Clarissa immediately turned and climbed in the front passenger seat next to Bud while I took the back seat with my boys taking a spot on either side of me.
The cavalcade of security officer and fire trucks, with lights flashing and sirens blaring, took off from the hospital with well-wishers lining both sides of the lane extending from the main entrance all the way to Enterprise Avenue, the main drag that follows US Highway 120 through Red River Falls.
I looked over my shoulder, happy to have Holy Family Regional Medical Center getting smaller in my sight. We turned right on US Highway 120 and headed south towards the direction of home.
Even away from the hospital there were still small groups of well-wishers holding signs, flags and banners. I was overwhelmed with emotion by the outpouring of support. Nick and Jake did their best to point out each and every one of them so I wouldn't miss a thing. As we approached the high college campus on the south side of Red River Falls, the security officer cars and fire trucks peeled off into the parking lot and Bud continued onward towards home.
"Well, how does the hero feel today?" Bud asked, looking at me in his rearview mirror.
"Better than I deserve," I smiled back. "I can't thank you enough for everything, Bud. I really appreciate you bringing my family to me today."
"Oh, there was nothing to it, Pat. It was the least I could do." He smiled at Clarissa, who smiled back, and then returned his gaze to the road. "What did you think about all the people who turned out? That was really something, wasn't it?"
"Unbelievable," I replied. "How in the world did everyone know I was getting out today? That's the part I can't figure out. I know word travels fast, but not THAT fast."
"It was on the website, Dad," Nick replied.
"You know," Jake answered. "The one they set up for you."
I was puzzled. I knew nothing about any website.
"It's called 'Caring Bridge'," Nick informed me. "They set it up to tell everybody how you were doing after you got hurt."
"Did you set that up, Clarissa?" I asked.
"No, Danny Larson and some of the others did," she answered.
"There's even a Facebook page, Dad!" Jake said proudly. "You got over 100,000 'likes' and over 10,000 comments from people!"
Wow! Well, this is the internet age. I wasn't sure how I felt about total strangers knowing about my medical progress, but I was genuinely warmed and touched by the outpouring of care and concern.
About ten miles south of Red River Falls Bud turned the big SUV west onto Rattlesnake Road, the gravel road our acreage was on. The scenery all looked intimately familiar and I anticipated the next hill and our small farm that lay just beyond. The sight of our house was like seeing an old friend for the first time in ages. Even the older outbuildings and hay shed were welcome sights.
Bud pulled the Suburban up to the old outbuilding with sliding doors that currently served as our garage. It was almost 80 years old but still had good bones and kept the snow off our vehicles in the winter.
We all made our exits from the vehicle. With the boys on each side of me, I made the short walk over to the edge of the horse corral I had built and clicked my tongue several times to summon our horses to the fence. My trusty friend and favorite horse, Blackjack, made his way over to me and started to nuzzle my cheek with his nose. He gave me a few good sniffs, just to make sure I was who he thought I was. When he was satisfied, he lowered his head as usual to let me give him a good scratching of his ears, which he loved so much. With luck, my rehabilitation would continue to go well and I could still get a fair amount of horseback riding in before winter arrived with all of its frigid fury.
The boys and I spent about 10 minutes or so petting the horses before heading back up to the house.
Our farmhouse was over 80 years old, too, but still in great shape. The only major change we had to make in the few years we had lived there was replacing the old boiler with a new and more efficient one. With five bedrooms there was more than enough room for all of us and our respective hobbies.
"Well," Bud started, "I guess it is about time for me to head back home. I promised my wife I'd take her our for a nice lunch today. I'm sure you all could use the time to get settled back in."
"Thanks a lot, Bud," I said extending my hand. Bud gripped it firmly. "I really appreciate everything."
"No, Patrick. I appreciate everything YOU have done. Don't feel like you have to rush back too soon. Just focus on the rest of your rehab and getting yourself back to 100 percent. The job will take care of itself in the meantime."
"Be sure to tell Margo I said hello and that we missed her today," I said as Bud turned to go. Margo was short for Margolene. She and Bud had been married almost 25 years.
"Uh, yeah, I'll do that Patrick. She wanted me to tell you how happy she is for all of you and she'll see you real soon. She had an appointment today she couldn't miss. Otherwise she would have been there."
I didn't press for information and Bud left without much fanfare.
"Well, I'm gonna go start getting our own lunch ready," Clarissa said and disappeared into the kitchen.
I took it easy the rest of the weekend, since I knew I had a full week of rehab ahead of me and it would only get more and more intense as it went on. I had at least another month of it ahead of me before I could get back to work full time, and even that was an optimistic schedule. But I had beaten the odds so far and I was determined to this time, as well.
Clarissa and I were cordial with one another, but otherwise it was business as usual. I tried to initiate lovemaking several times but it was a barrage of excuses as always. She was either having a bad day with her low testosterone symptoms and just wasn't feeling like it, was tired from a new volunteer project she had started with the Red River nature trails committee, or she was afraid that I might get hurt because of my injuries. I had to chuckle at the last excuse.
The resentment continued to build along with the tension between us. At one point, I got snippy and pissy with her over the lack of action in the bedroom again and told her I was sick of all the excuses.
"Well, I'm soooo sorry that you feel your sexual WANTS seem to outweigh, in your mind, my overall physical health needs," she said emphatically.
I was getting tired of her shoving her ongoing low testosterone problems in my face all the time, a problem she could easily have corrected with a prescription from her doctor but chose to treat herself with "herbal" and "natural" remedies, which did nothing. She also said that there were plenty of couples out there who were married and didn't have sex that often because their focus was on their lives, jobs and kids and there wasn't anything wrong with that.
I said, "Clarissa, there are a helluva lot of couples out there who have sex MORE than we do who STILL get divorced because of a lack of sex in their marriage!"
"Well, I guess you have a decision to make then," she said and stormed off to our room.
The only outlet I had, besides an occasional sneak peak at some porn and jerking off in the shower, was going to my daily workout and physical therapy. At least getting a good workout took some of the edge and stress off.
After I had been home for a month I was allowed to go back to work on light duty, which meant being a paper pusher and assisting some of the other Deputies with their reports. I had physical therapy now three days a week for two hours in the morning and then spent the rest of the day at the Sheriff's Office.
Along with several other Deputies in the department and several outside candidates, I ended up submitting my packet to be considered for the Captain and Chief Deputy position that had been vacated by Floyd Franklin. The packets were reviewed by a committee of personnel from various departments around the county and the city. I knew that my college degrees in criminal justice and psychology, as well as my military service, would make me a formidable candidate. Having saved Bridget wasn't going to hurt me, either.
The committee took two weeks to consider all the applications, during which each candidate had to sit in front of the committee to answer a battery of questions during a panel interview. Some of the questions were tough and pointed, others were kind of laughable. Sometimes, when you bring in personnel who have zero law enforcement experience to interview an actual law enforcement officer, some of the questions you get are clearly based on what that individual has seen on TV and in movies. But they all meant well and did their very best to choose a candidate.
In the end, the selection committee selected who they believed was the best candidate and submitted the name to Sheriff Roberts who made the final decision.
I was working on organizing some old reports on a Monday after I had gotten to work following rehab. I was just getting settled into a day's worth of boring and mind-numbing work when Bud came out of his office.
"Hey, Pat. What're you working on?" Bud asked.
I let out a long sigh and gave Bud a weak smile. "Just taking some of these old hand-written reports and entering them digitally into the new system."

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Bud winced. He knew the work was brutal and hated having to make Deputies spend part of their time each month getting it caught up. Even though these crime and incident reports were so old, the state mandated that all records going back 15 years had to be entered into the state database. This sucked because all of the neighboring states only mandated 10 years and the national standard was only seven. Any unresolved felony cases, no matter how old, were also required to be updated and entered digitally into the state database. No one had even begun to touch that stack of cold case files, which also entailed re-establishing chain of custody for any evidence gathered in those cases.

"Well, why don't you take a break and step into my office for a bit," Bud offered.
I welcomed the break from the blinding paper and computer work and said, "Gladly!"
I followed Bud the few short steps down the hall to his office and seated myself in one of two short-backed leather swivel chairs in front of his large oak desk. A large computer desk sat directly behind Bud's executive leather chair and looked comically large as Bud preferred to use a laptop computer instead of a desktop.
Bud had, like any good Sheriff or security officer Chief, numerous pictures, plaques and awards plastering his walls that highlighted his nearly 30 year career in law enforcement. Like me, Bud's career had begun with the Red River Falls security officer Department where he had served for over 18 years, rising to the rank of Lieutenant, before winning his first term as Sheriff. Bud had won three of those terms, so far, and wasn't even facing a challenge from anyone in next year's election.
"Pat, as you know, the committee has assisted me over the past few weeks by reviewing the applications and conducting interviews for the position of Captain and Chief Deputy Sheriff," Bud began. "I have in my hand their report and recommendation of the individual they would like to see appointed to that position."
Bud handed me a vanilla folder containing the report. I opened the folder and scanned the cover letter that sat on top of the stack of evaluations for each candidate. I quickly shifted my focus to the last paragraph of the letter:
Therefore, the Selection Committee has made the decision to recommend Deputy Sheriff Sean Patrick Quinn to fill the vacant position of Captain and Chief Deputy of the Mason County Sheriff's Department. The committee trusts that Sheriff William Roberts will give all due concern and consideration to this recommendation and will make final appointment to the position based on the information contained in this report. The committee members would like to extend their thanks to the Sheriff, his department and to the Mason County Board of Supervisors for seeking our helping in fulfilling this essential task.
Respectfully submitted,
R. Holland Steele,
Director, Red River Falls Public Works
Selection Committee Chair
Wow. I couldn't believe it. I had felt fairly confident going into the process that I would make a strong candidate but I knew there were other Deputies, as well as members of the Red River Falls PD, who had applied for the position and would have made good Captains, as well. One of those candidates was Pete Sturgeon, a current Captain on the Red River Falls PD, who I knew would probably not take the news well. Pete knew that Bud and I had been friends going all the way back to our days on the Red River Falls PD, too.
Bud reached his hand across the table. "Congratulations, Captain. I'm proud to say this was a recommendation that wasn't difficult to accept."
I gripped the Sheriff's hand firmly in reply. "Thank you, Sheriff. I won't let you down."
We chatted for a few more minutes and he told me that the formal announcement of my promotion would take place that afternoon around 14:30 as the day shift was ending and the Deputies from the night shift would be arriving for work.
"Now," Bud said, "I would imagine that someone's wife and kids would love to hear this news."
"I can't wait to tell them," I said grinning stupidly. I hadn't been this giddy since the day I got married.
"Just so you know," Bud cautioned, "if you think your days of doing paperwork are over, think again. There's a lot more of that which comes with the job. You're going to be the direct supervisor to all of the Lieutenants and Deputies, as well as the tactical officer for the Narcotics Task Force and Special Operations Group. You'll also be handling the preparation of warrants and occasionally serving warrants, too."
"I know, I know. But the chance to keep normal hours and be home for dinner almost every night is worth it," I said.
"Congratulations, Patrick. I look forward to working with you even more closely," Bud said as he waved me out of his office.
Captain Pat Quinn. Chief Deputy Pat Quinn. I kept saying them over and over in my mind, hoping that soon it would sound normal. I guess a lot of things take some time in getting used to. I decided I needed to keep my focus and returned to my desk to continue digitizing reports. The next thing I knew, Bud was by my side again and pulled up a chair.
"One more thing, Pat," he said looking intent. "I forgot to tell you that I'm going to be sending you to a two-week training course in Minneapolis. It is an Executive Law Enforcement Officer Professional Development and Leaders Initiative Course. It gets put on by the Federal Law Enforcement Academy. Instead of sending everybody to Georgia all the time, they're doing outreach classes around the country. They just finished one in Cheyenne and they'll be holding the next one in the Twin Cities in about two weeks. It'll be a good way for you to get your feet wet at the next level."
"Wow. Sounds intense," I said as Bud stood back up.
"It's not. It is tough from an intellectual and educational standpoint. But the course is almost entirely classroom oriented with a few table-top exercises thrown in for fun," Bud explained.
"Oh, goody," I said dryly. "Death by Power Point."
Bud patted me on my left shoulder. "Welcome to the next level Pat," he chuckled as he walked away. "I just wanted to let you know so you can give the family a heads up that you're gonna be gone for a couple of weeks. But the hotel and the meals are on us! And if it makes you feel any better, I'll be there going through it with you!"
"Not really," I chuckled.
I returned to my computer. A promotion and an out-of-town training conference, I thought. Maybe the two-week separation would do me and Clarissa some good and give us both some time to think.
At shift change that afternoon Sheriff Roberts called all of the Deputies and staff members into the briefing room to announce my promotion to Captain and Chief Deputy. He kept it short and sweet and asked everyone to give me a round of applause. Everyone clapped but I couldn't help but notice that the applause was more tepid than I was expecting. I knew several of the Deputies had also applied for the position, so I chalked up the response to a few of them being a little butt-hurt over my selection. I wasn't going to let it get me down and, at 1600, I hopped in my truck and headed home.
Clarissa was helping the boys with their homework when I walked into the house and dinner was in the oven.
"How was work?" Clarissa asked.
"Interesting," I replied cryptically.
"Oh? How so? I thought they had you going blind on old paperwork," she said, puzzled.
"Yeah, I was. But there was a development just before noon."
"Are you going to tell me?" she begged. "Or are you going to just play twenty questions?"
I dbangd my jacket on the back of one of the dining room chairs before answering. "The selection committee gave their recommendation to Bud for the Captain and Chief Deputy position. Bud accepted their recommendation and subsequently offered me the position."
"What?" Clarissa asked, completely startled. "Chief Deputy? That's like number two in the department, right?"
"Yes, it is."
"So, it is the Sheriff, and then you, right?" she said, trying to figure something out in her head.
"Yes, it is," I said slowly, trying to see where she was going with this. "Are you not happy about this or something?"
"No, it's not that. It's just...I guess....wow!" was all she could stutter.
"Do I at least get a hug for my promotion?" I asked with my arms outstretched.
"Uh, yeah. I'm sorry. It's just....such a.....surprise," Clarissa said as she embraced me. I had been hoping for the same sparks I got from hugging Shannon, but Clarissa pulled away too quickly. She then stood there with a closed-off posture with her arms folded.
"Well, I just want you to know there are going to be some changes," I started to explain. "My work day will resemble more office-hours than what I had previously. My general work day follows county business and runs from 8 am to 4 pm, same as the courthouse. However, with my new duties, there will probably times I will need to be in earlier and stay later. I'll get comp time, of course, but there will also be a lot more meetings, including weekends."
"Will you mostly know ahead of time?" Clarissa asked?
"For the most part. But you just never know. There will also be some out-of-town travel occasionally around the state and elsewhere, beginning with a leadership training seminar that I will be gone two weeks for at the beginning of November."
"Like how often?" she wanted to know.
"Hard to say," I said grabbing a soda from the fridge. "I would imagine that some parts of the job will be routine in a lot of ways and I'll get the hang of things as time goes by."
Clarissa got quiet. "What about the dangerous stuff?" she asked.
I let out a sigh and said, "Well, for the most part that is done. Obviously, I won't be patrolling anymore, so that rules out car stops and chases. But part of my duties will be to serve as the executive officer in charge of the narcotics task force and special operations group."
"So, you'll still be kicking down doors and busting crack and meth houses," she said getting defensive.
"Not exactly," I tried to reassure her. "As the officer-in-charge my responsibilities will be more along the lines of tactical planning and oversight. Sure, I'll still dress and look the part, just in case things go to shit all of a sudden. But for the most part I won't be the sharp end of the stick anymore."
"Good," she said, seemingly soothed. "So will there be a decent pay increase with your new position?"
I chuckled and nearly choked as she asked me the question while taking a swig of my cola. "You sure get down to the point, don't you," I said, wiping my chin.
"Well, I would think there'd be a bump in pay, isn't there? After all, you're going to have a lot more responsibilities and such. They'd better pay you more!"
"Easy, easy," I said calmingly. "My salary as a patrol Deputy, as you know, was a little over $55,000 a year. The salary of Chief Deputy is $89,000 a year."
"Oh, my God!" Clarissa exclaimed. "I was expecting a bump in pay, but not a $34,000 bump in pay!"
"Well, you gotta understand that I was selected and promoted over the Sergeants and Lieutenants on the department. That's two pay bumps right there."
We all sat down together for dinner about an hour later and chatted more about my new position and duties. For the first time in a long while, the atmosphere in our house was genuinely warm. I didn't get any celebratory sex that night but when she came to bed, Clarissa actually did snuggle up next to me and gave me a kiss goodnight, which was more than I had gotten in the weeks since I had been home from the hospital.
I didn't push things much over the next week or so, but I did start to get a little anxious in the days leading up to the law enforcement conference in the Twin Cities. I brought home flowers for Clarissa, which she accepted with a smile. But at least she didn't throw me any snide remarks about it being an open gesture expecting sex, which was what usually happened when I brought home flowers. Over the last year or more any traditional romantic gestures were taken by Clarissa as an expectation of sex and she had begun to resent them. I had always thought that women appreciated little gifts, flowers and other tokens of affection but Clarissa always assumed there were strings attached.
Finally, it was the night before I was to leave for the conference. I couldn't take it anymore. It had been over five months at that point since Clarissa and I had made love. I was afraid if I left for the conference without at least one last moment of true physical connection and emotional bonding that Clarissa and I were done for.
I had been packing my clothes when Clarissa came into the bedroom looking for something in her hope chest. I slowly walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist and hugged her from behind. She didn't withdraw, but simply placed her hands and arms on my own and accepted the embrace. I kissed her gently on her ear. Clarissa turned around and hugged me with her head on my chest.
"I want to make love to you before I leave, Clarissa," I whispered.
"Patrick, please. Please don't," she said pulling away from me.
I stood there deflated. I was out of options and out of patience.
"What?" I demanded. "What is the problem?"
Clarissa sat down on the edge of the bed, arms folded and looking away from me.
"What do you expect from me, Clarissa?" I said even louder. "What has happened over the last few years that all of a sudden you find me absolutely repulsive?"
"I should ask you the same thing, Patrick!" she retorted. "What exactly do YOU expect from ME? It's like you expect me to stay home, cook and clean, take care of the boys and be at your sexual beck and call all the time!"
"You know," I said forcing myself to calm down, "if we had sex an average of once a month, I might just consider your point. And that's a pretty big might."
"You're not the only one who has been affected by everything the last few months, you know," Clarissa said desperately looking for a point to make. "This whole thing has affected me, too! Do you know what it has been like for me? Do you know what it has been like almost being a widow before I'm even in my mid-thirties? Having to consider the possibility of being alone for the rest of my life? With two boys to raise on my own?"
"Don't use the boys as an excuse for this, Clare!" I hissed. "We are talking about problems that have been ongoing for the last couple of years! This isn't just something that occurred with the shooting and you damned well know it!"
"Oh, I'm sooooo sorry," Clarissa moaned, overly dramatic. "I'm sooooo sorry that my health needs don't seem to take precedent over your need to get LAID," she said gesturing grandly to make her point. "Did you ever stop to think about what was best for ME?"
"Yes, yes I have. And what is best for you would be to talk to your doctor and get a prescription to FIX the problem. There is no shame in getting treatment for a medical condition, Clarissa," I tried to reason.
"The last thing I want to do is pump my body full of drugs and chemicals, Patrick," she said. "You know how those things affect my body."

I shook my head. "Sounds like an excuse. And I'm tired of making excuses for you and I'm tired begging and pleading for something that should be a normal and regular part of our marriage. If you truly gave a shit about me, Clarissa," I said resuming my packing, "you'd do something about this instead of just make excuses."
"And if you gave a shit about me," she shot back, "you'd want what is best and natural for me and not want me to do something that I'm not comfortable with. All you're thinking of is yourself and what you want!"
I was tired of it all. I decided right then and there that I was going to take the two weeks I would be away in the Twin Cities to figure out what I was going to do, what my next move would be when I came home. If this is what my life was going to be like, then I wanted no part of it. Being on an acreage out in the country wasn't worth being miserable for the rest of my life and losing the acreage was almost a certainty if it came down to getting a divorce. Suddenly, the thought of that didn't scare me. It should have but it didn't. The idea actually had a calming effect on me once I accepted it.
Clarissa noticed that I hadn't said anything for a few minutes as I ignored her and continued to pack. Finally, the sound of silence became too much for her and she had to ask.
"What, Patrick? What do you want from me?" she queried.
I stopped packing, stood up straight and let out a long sigh.
"I'll tell you what I want, Clarissa," I said sitting next to her. "I want a wife that wants me to be an equal part of the marriage. I want a wife who is willing to receive affection from me and give it in return. I want a wife who will accept romantic gestures from me and not automatically attach some ulterior motive to it. I want a wife whose skin doesn't crawl when I want to touch her. I want a wife who doesn't arbitrarily refuse me ninety-nine percent of the time when I want to make love to her, because I love her, and because after almost 15 years of marriage I still find her as beautiful and as sexy as the day I first met her. What I want is to have my wife back, the woman I fell in love with, not the shell of a human being that has no ability to give or receive love to her husband. All you are to me anymore is just a ghost of the woman I fell in love with. I keep hoping she will return, but that hope dies a little more every single day."
I stood up, closed my suitcase and set it near the door to the bedroom. I proceeded to hang up three clothes bags containing my three suits as well as two complete sets of uniform on the hook behind the door. Clarissa sat there with tears in her eyes and said nothing. I had hoped she would at least say something but I got crickets in return.
"You'll have the bed to yourself for the next couple of weeks anyway," I said softly, "so you might as well have it to yourself tonight." Clarissa just sat there sobbing now.
I grabbed a few blankets from the hall closet and a spare pillow and made my way downstairs to the living room where I made myself as comfortable as I could on the couch.
My alarm went off precisely at 4:30 the next morning. The conference wasn't scheduled to start until 10:00 so I had plenty of time to grab a shower, dress and leave for the conference. I opted to shower in the main bathroom rather than the master bath so I wouldn't wake Clarissa.
When I finished showering I dressed in a pair of khaki dress slacks, dress shirt, tie and a tan western style blazer that I had purchased. I opted for a pair of brown leather Tony Lama square-toed boots that I had treated myself to shortly after my promotion. Now that I was Captain and Chief Deputy Bud had insisted that I wear suits to work rather than a typical duty uniform.
I finished loading my clothes in my vehicle and went back in the house to gently give each of the boys a quick smooch on the head. They were both still sleeping soundly at this hour and I didn't want to wake them to say goodbye. I had promised each of them the night before that I would call them the first night and regularly while I was gone.
My new work ride, since becoming Captain, was a 2013 metallic silver unmarked Ford Crown Victoria. It still had the basic security officer Interceptor package -- shocks, brakes, V-8 engine and other refinements -- but lacked the large radio and light console as well as the Quick Book computer. As I was getting ready to leave, I noticed Clarissa standing at the front door still dressed in her pajamas and a robe. I reached for the door and was about to get back out of the car but I was struck by a feeling that I shouldn't. Only one of two things was going to happen -- either I would make a fool of myself and try to make up for the night before or she would simply give me a thread of hope to falsely cling to while I was gone.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

I sat there for a few moments before putting the big Ford in gear and pulling out of the driveway and onto Rattlesnake Road. As I looked in my rearview mirror, I could still see her form by the front door as I crested the hill before my home disappeared from sight. As I approached US Highway 120, I wondered if that was the last time that I would see my home before I made a decision to divorce my wife.

It took over three hours to drive from my house outside of Red River Falls to the Twin Cities. I hit the tail end of rush hour traffic and made very good time to get to the hotel. Luckily, the conference was at the same hotel so I wouldn't need to go far for anything. The Sheriff's department paid for my room, meals at the hotel and I was given an expense account at the hotel for dry cleaning and laundry service during the time I was going to be there.
Bud Roberts was also going to be attending so I thought I would look up his room as I approached the front desk to check in. It was just after 9 am and the conference didn't begin for almost another hour.
"I'm sorry," the desk clerk said. "I'm not showing anyone by that name as a guest here."
"Really?" I said puzzled. "His actual name is William Roberts. Maybe there is a Will or Bill Roberts?"
The desk clerk typed away on his computer. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm not showing anyone with that last name as a guest in the hotel at this time. I don't even show anyone with that name as having a reservation here."
Weird, I thought. Maybe bud had decided to check into another hotel instead. Oh, well. I guess I would have to see him at the conference instead.
I took my belongings directly upstairs to the 8th floor where my room was. I slid the key card into the slot and pushed the door open. The room contained a single king size bed, sleeper sofa, deluxe bathroom with Jacuzzi tub and a small office work station with in-room Wi-Fi. There was also a large-screen TV, microwave, refrigerator and a coffee maker with about two dozen varieties of coffee to choose from. All in all, it wasn't a bad place to have to shack up for the next two weeks. It would be tough, but I was pretty sure I could handle it!
At 9:45 I made my way down to the conference center. I wasn't dressed too official but it didn't take much to make me as a law enforcement officer. I had a miniature badge pin on my right lapel, a US flag on my left lapel and my official Sheriff's badge secured to my belt which was in plain view.
A handful of the other participants were dressed in their work uniforms but most were dressed like me. The brochures for the conference stated expressly that firearms were absolutely forbidden on the hotel property and that no excuses or explanations would be accepted for carrying a weapon during the conference.
I looked around at the registration table as I signed in for the conference. I was able to locate Bud's name tag, so he had obviously not signed in to the conference yet. I decided to wait near the entrance to the main conference hall for him to show up. It was difficult to stand there because I had been handed an arm load of course materials for the entire two weeks of the conference.
At 9:55, Bud still hadn't shown up yet and I decided to go ahead and take a seat. The conference kicked off punctually at 10:00 with the keynote speaker, a retired Deputy security officer Commissioner for the City of Chicago who spoke until 11:45. The conference broke early for lunch with the afternoon seminar scheduled to begin again at 1:15.
I left my seat in the conference room and went out into the vacuous main lobby of the hotel to try and give Bud a call and find out where he was at.
The phone rang twice before picking up. "Bud Roberts," he answered.
"Hey, Bud. This is Patrick. Where are ya? I missed you at registration."
"Aw, hell, Patrick. I've got a mess to take care of back here," he replied. "I have an emergency meeting with the County Supervisors. They're looking at amending the budget for next year and looking at the possibility of cutting three deputies! I've gotta try and convince them to pull their heads out of each other's asses and get a dose of reality. I'm hoping to get to the conference by tomorrow or Wednesday at the latest. How's is going there, anyway?"
"Oh, fine, I guess," I said. "We only had the first session this morning and it was a former Deputy Commissioner from Chicago who talked about leadership excellence and stuff. You know, the usual rah-rah stuff to fire up the troops," I said pacing the lobby floor.
"Well, it should be good experience for you, Pat. I'm sure you'll come home with all kinds of ideas we can use."
Odd, I thought. It almost sounded like he wasn't planning on coming here at all.
"Anyway," he continued, "wish me luck dealing with these assholes. Hope to see you later this week. Bye!"
"Yeah, take care now," I said ending the call.
Great, just fucking great. My home life was in a world of shit and I was hoping to at least have a friend I could talk to about it while I was here. I was going to have to wallow and stew in my own self-pity for the next few days at least. And that was only if Bud decided to show up at all.
I had a light lunch in the smallest of the hotel's three restaurants. There were a few other people from the conference in there eating as well but I chose to sit at a small table by myself so I could think.
The afternoon session ran from 1:15 to 4:30 and the first day of the conference had come to a close. I attended an evening mixer in one of the banquet halls and nursed a Jack and Coke while I made small talk with some of the other attendees. I knew a few people here and there. The world of law enforcement can be fairly small at times and you tend to meet officers from all over. The majority of the attendees were from Minnesota, Iowa, Illinois, the Dakotas, Nebraska and Wisconsin but at least three of them came all the way from Denver, Colorado. For a few hours, at least, I enjoyed the kinship that can only be found among the fraternity of security officer officers.
I retired to my room around 8:30. I made a call home so I could talk to the boys and we got to chat for about half an hour. Nick had decided that he wanted to play basketball this winter and asked me if we could go shopping for new basketball shoes as soon as I got home. Jake repeated the story of Nick playing basketball along with the fact that he was pissed that he didn't get to play too. I told him that if it made him feel better, I would buy him a pair of basketball shoes, too, and that I would put a basketball hoop in the hay barn so we could shoot baskets inside even during the winter. Even as I told him that, I silently asked myself if I wasn't in fact lying to my son as I spoke the words. Even still, Jake was satisfied and promised that he would stop hating his brother for getting to play basketball.
Nick got back on the phone to say goodbye after I got done speaking with Jake. Nick asked me if I wanted to talk to their Mom but I said that tonight I just wanted to talk to my boys.
"Are you and Mom mad at each other?" Nick asked pointedly.
Even from several hundred miles away the question hit me like a punch in the gut.
"Why would you ask that?" Kids are a lot more intuitive than we ever give them credit for.
"It just seems like it," he said quietly.
"Don't worry," I tried to reassure him. "There's nothing for you to be concerned about."
"Then why don't you want to talk to Mom?" he asked point blank. Damn. This kid wasn't going to let me off easy.
"Well," I began, "your Mom and I get to talk all the time. We talked a lot last night and I got to see her this morning before I left." It wasn't a lie but it wasn't the whole truth. I hoped it would at least be enough to get me by for now.
"Yeah, okay. Will you call tomorrow?" Nick asked.
"Absolutely, I will buddy. Already looking forward to it. You get some sleep now. You're gonna need it if you decide to play basketball," I encouraged.
"Okay, Dad. Talk to you tomorrow. Love you."
"I love you, too, little buddy. Give your Mom and your brother a hug for me, okay?"
"I will. I promise," he said.
"Good night," I replied as I hung up the phone. Jeez. Even the kids were starting to pick up on the tension. Things needed to change between my wife and they needed to change fast. The question was, would they change for the better or change for the worse? I guessed that I wouldn't have my answer until I got home next week.
Sleep came quicker than I had anticipated, helped in part, I'm sure, to the Jacks and Coke that I had imbibed at the conference mixer.
Much to my relief, Bud finally showed up the next morning. He ended up getting a room at an adjacent motel for some reason but he and I were still able to have breakfast and lunch together in my hotel. In the evenings, Bud ended up spending time with a number of other security officer chiefs and sheriffs who were also in attendance. Some of them he knew and some of them he met at the conference. A large group of them got together in the evenings for drinks and dinner, which was fine with me. It was just good to have a friend to hang out with.
I didn't talk much about my issues back home. Trying to put the best face on things for my boss seemed like a good idea. I had decided when I left for the conference that I was just going to leave all my problems back on the farm. Either things between Clarissa and I would improve while I was gone or they wouldn't. And if they didn't, then I guess it would make what I was contemplating a lot easier to allow happen.
Bud and I sat next to each other during the class session but didn't chat much at breaks. Bud was big into "networking", or basically just shaking hands and greasing palms. He told me that you had to be a bit of a politician to be sheriff and know how to understand and work with the other elected politicians. In Mason County, that meant working with and dealing with the board of supervisors. They had been the reason for his delay in getting to the conference in the first place. There were only three of them Bud had to deal with but, in his words, every single one of them was a proctologist's dream - a major asshole!
The next three days of the conference went by quickly. The weekend seminars for the conference were morning sessions only so that the attendees could have the chance to see some of the Twin Cities while they were in town. There was even a group trip to see the Minnesota Wild play at the XCel Energy Center, which all of us were greatly looking forward to.
Friday at lunch Bud received a phone call just as we were getting ready to order. He left our table to take the call and was gone for about ten minutes. When he came back he was visibly upset.
"Bad news, Pat," he said sitting back down. "I'm gonna have to eat and run. More trouble with the supervisors. If I don't meet with them they're not going to put the new jail proposal on the ballot next year."
"Ouch!" I replied. "Can they really do that?"
"Damned right they can," Bud said taking a sip of coffee. "Anything that goes on a referendum for a county election has to be approved by them first. And God knows we need that new jail."
I knew that Bud was between a rock and a hard place. He was absolutely right about the new jail. Currently, a good chunk of the corrections budget was going towards housing prisoners in prisons out of the county. Prisoners were currently being housed as far away as Choctaw County, when they had the room themselves, and several more were being held in Lakota and Iroquois counties as well. Both of those counties charged Mason county approximately $80.00 per day to house one prisoner. Considering the fact that we currently had ten prisoners being housed in Lakota County right now with an average stay of ten days a piece, it was costing the taxpayers an average of $800 per day and $5600 per week and over $20,000 per month. And that was just for one county.
Still, it seemed odd that Bud would have to leave right this moment. By the time he fought through afternoon rush hour traffic in Minneapolis, it would be well into the evening before he got home. I chalked it up to the old adage that a lawman's job is never done. But the thought still bothered me and I wasn't quite sure why.
The Friday sessions ended, as usual, at 4:30 and I headed straight up to my room to change. I had decided to head over and check out the Mall of America and hit up a store there called Lego Land that one of the attendees had told me about. Both Nick and Jake were huge Lego fans and I thought that I would surprise them and get them each something super cool to put together and play with when I came home, sort of a "sorry I was gone for two weeks" kind of gift for them.
When I reached my hotel room, I noticed that one of the lights on the hotel phone was blinking, indicating that I had a message. I picked up the phone and contacted the front desk.
"Front desk, this is Adam speaking," came the greeting over the phone.
"Yes, this is Patrick Quinn in room 832. Do you have a message for me?" I asked.
"One moment, please," the clerk replied as he searched for the message. "Mr Quinn?"
"Yes, I'm here," I replied.
"Yes, Mr. Quinn, I have a message for you. A Ms. Caroline Bennett called for you and asked that you return her call as soon as possible," he replied.
Caroline? My mother-in-law? What in the world could she possibly want? I hadn't seen much of her since she moved to the cities.
I grabbed a pen and quickly jotted down the number the desk clerk gave me. After he hung up, I sat for a moment and pondered the implications of calling her. For the majority of my marriage, I had experienced a fairly innocuous relationship with my mother-in-law that was typical, if not vanilla. All that had changed one hot, sunny August afternoon and sparked a fire that resulted in almost a month of burning, flaming sex sessions between us that the mere THOUGHT of which could still spark a raging erection in my pants. And here I was...a couple hundred miles from home...in a hotel...in the same city that my mother-in-law now resided in with her new significant other.
Only one thought entered my mind; absolutely NO good can come from this. Ashamedly, that thought did not deter me from punching in the number of Caroline's phone. I couldn't help myself as I nervously anticipated the call. The phone rang almost 5 times before it picked up.
"Hello?" came a female voice.
"Caroline?" I asked almost sheepishly.
"Patrick! Oh, I'm so glad that you returned my call!" She sounded genuinely excited.
"Well, the afternoon session of the conference ended and I thought I would give you a shout before I headed out for some dinner in a bit," I explained.
"Oh, dear. Did you have plans this evening?" she asked.
"Oh, no, no," I half stammered. "There's several restaurants in the hotel plus the Mall of America is almost within walking distance from here"
"Oh, my God!" she exclaimed. "Stay away from the mall. Nothing but an overpriced tourist trap and an eyesore. Even the airport is more pleasing to look at than the mall," she giggled.
"Okay," I chuckled. "If you say so."
"Speaking of dinner," she went on. "If you don't have plans tonight, then Martin and I want to treat you to dinner. It has been ages since I have gotten to see you and I need to catch up with you on how Clarissa and the boys are doing."
"Well," I reasoned, "sounds good to me. Where would you like to meet?"
"I hope you don't mind," she started, "but I already took the liberty of getting a reservation at the Chez Stefan." The Chez Stefan was the high-end restaurant located here in the hotel. It was the restaurant that was NOT one of the dining choices that I was given by the department and not the type of place frequented by someone collecting a tax-payer funded salary. It was the kind of restaurant where the prices weren't even on the menu because if you had to ask how much it cost, you couldn't afford it.
"Uh, well, that's a little out of my league," I reasoned.
"Nonsense, luv. You came all this way and you deserve a hero's welcome and a meal fit for a king! And Martin and I are going to treat you as such while you are here. I won't hear otherwise and your money is no good as long as you are with us!" Well, I guess it was decided.
"Okay, okay, Caroline. You win. I'd be delighted and I'll be looking forward to seeing you and meeting Martin. When should I plan to be there?" I asked.
"Martin and I will be arriving for drinks around 8:00 and our dinner reservation is for 8:30. Martin detests early meals and so do I," she finished.
"Okay, great. Eight it is. I'll see you there," I said getting ready to hang up.
"Perfect. Oh, and Patrick?"
"Yes," I replied. There was a pause before she continued.
"I am really, really looking forward to seeing you tonight," she said with a voice full of anticipation.
"Me, too," was all I could say.
"Okay. See you soon," she nearly purred.
I hung up the phone and let out a long, slow breath. Wow! Her voice had sounded so... so... anticipatory. Yeah, that was about right. But anticipating.....what? It surely couldn't be sex, although I more than half-hoped it would be. But she was bringing the new man in her life with her so there was no way it could be that.
But if not sex, then what? Just to torture me? Sitting there across the table looking amazing, smelling amazing and just plain being amazing? It sure as hell wasn't just to find out how Clarissa and the kids were. Hell, she could call and talk to her daughter any time to do that. And she did. Even after her move to the cities, she and Clarissa still spoke on the phone for an hour or more at least 4 to 5 nights a week.
I let the thoughts ponder in my head while I took an extra long, hot shower. I tried to push all the thoughts of what was going on back home to the back of my mind and focused only on making a good impression at dinner and being a respectful and grateful guest of Caroline and Martin.
I decided to put on my dark charcoal gray suit with a royal blue pattern tie and my freshly polished and shined Tony Lamas. With a hot shower, fresh shave and a sharp set of clothes, I felt ready to take on the world.....and Caroline Bennett. And Martin, whoever the hell he was.
I made my way down to the main concourse and lobby of the hotel and arrived at the Chez Stefan just before eight o'clock. The maitre d' looked me up and down and gave me a full screening. I could see in his eyes a look of "he doesn't belong here", especially when he spotted the large golden badge affixed to my belt.
"Welcome to the Chez Stefan, sir. Is there something I can assist you with?" he asked with a plastic smile. Damn. He wasn't even gonna ask me if I had a reservation.
"I'm expecting some people," I replied.
"Perhaps you would like to wait for your party outside," he suggested. God, I really wanted to punch this guy in the throat.
"Any reason I can't wait inside, instead?" I asked, challenging him.
"I'm sorry, sir, but the Chez Stefan only takes reservations and all of our seatings are booked for the remainder of the evening. Perhaps..." he tried to finish.
"Patrick!" Caroline interrupted. The maitre d' immediately stood at near attention. It was obvious that he knew Caroline and the man with her. "Patrick!" she exclaimed again as she embraced me. "Oh, so good to see you!"
"It is good to see you, too, Caroline," I replied.
And it was. Caroline looked incredible for a woman just shy of 55 years of age. Her hair was freshly styled and she wore an incredibly form fitting black velvet western style dress that hugged her body and hung just below her knees. She wore a set of black stylish high-end ankle high cowboy style boots as well as a spectacular string of pearls around her neck. She smelled incredible, of a scent I wasn't familiar with but was quickly overtaking my senses and replacing it with lust. Her make up was flawless and she looked so incredible that most women half her age would kill to look half as good as she did right now.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Behind Caroline came a gentleman who was nearly as tall as me but carried a good 40 to 50 more pounds than me. He was in his late '50s or early '60s, had a round and jowly face, wore glasses, was shaved and had advanced male pattern baldness. To his credit, he didn't try to compensate for the baldness but seemed to embrace it. He seemed fairly energetic and jovial. You might say he seemed to have the personality of a slightly-more-sincere salesman. He was dressed incredibly well in a tailor-made suit that probably cost a good percentage of my annual salary.

"Patrick," Caroline said, taking the man by the arm, "I want you to meet Martin. Martin, this is my Patrick," she said with a beaming smile. 'MY Patrick?' I thought. Not 'my son-in-law Patrick?' Suddenly, I kind of felt awkward and conspicuous.
"Pleased to meet you," he said as we shook hands. "I'm Martin Belmond. I want you to know, sheriff, what a pleasure it is to finally meet you. I've heard a great deal about you. I am absolutely in awe of what you did for that little girl."
"Just doing my job," I said, embarrassed by the flattery. Somehow, the man was growing on me and I started to sense myself actually liking this man.
"Oh, such modesty," Martin chuckled. "I could never do what you do and I have the utmost respect for our men and women in law enforcement. It is an honor to have you as our guest tonight. Please, shall we go in?"
"After you both," I said holding the door and giving the maitre d' a look of satisfaction.
The maitre d' immediately launched into a total suck up mode.
"Mr. Belmond and Ms. Bennett, it is so good to have you with us at the Chez Stefan again. Please follow me. We have a quiet table prepared for you in the bar and your dinner table will be ready precisely at 8:30," he said, grabbing three leather-bound drink menus.
The maitre d' led us into the most ornate and immaculate bar I had ever seen. Even the bar's wait staff dressed better than I did on most occasions. Like the menu in the restaurant the drink menus didn't have prices, nor did the wine list.
Martin obviously knew his wines and didn't even glance at the list before ordering an expensive bottle of cabernet sauvignon from 1969.
The maitre d' looked at me and said, "And for you, sir?"
"I'll just have a pint of Killian's Irish Red, if you have it," I said politely.
"Of course, sir," he said. "Your waitress will return with your drinks shortly." The maitre d', no doubt, was thinking 'this is the most expensive bar in the city and this prick orders a friggin' BEER?' Oh, well. I was thirsty and I didn't much care for wine.
A very cute, college age waitress with short blonde hair brought the bottle of wine, two empty glasses and one gigantic glass of Killian's to our table. The beer was ice cold with a frothy head that was spilling down the side of the vessel.
"Wow!" Martin said, chuckling. "I'm not much of a beer drinking man myself but that beer looks fantastic!"
"I won't even ask how much that bottle of wine cost," I said smiling. "This is by far the most fantastic bar and restaurant I've ever set foot in," I said looking around at the place. There seemed to be more marble in the bar and restaurant than the Taj Mahal.
"Caroline and I like to come here about once a month or so. The drinks are exceptional, the service is first rate and the food is incredible," Martin explained.
We spent the next 20 minutes with small talk and getting to know Martin. Martin was a real estate developer in Minneapolis who had amassed a fortune on numerous projects and properties in the Twin Cities as well as throughout the upper Midwest. He had developed properties and put up buildings in Chicago, Milwaukee, Madison, St Paul, Minneapolis and numerous other cities and had more projects currently in development. One of his luxury apartment buildings in downtown Minneapolis generated over $5 million dollars a month in rent alone. He grew up in St Cloud, just 90 minutes northwest of the Twin Cities. He was, by every measure, a self-made man.
At 8:30 a waiter escorted us to a very private table not far from where a man was softly playing a piano. The music was soft and soothing and provided the perfect compliment to the overall ambience of the bar and restaurant.
As Martin had stated, the food was incredible. I ordered the stuffed crab and it was absolutely amazing. Martin had insisted on dessert and we all ordered a round of chocolate mousse, which Clarissa would have loved. She is a phenomenal chocolate fiend and it is a huge weakness of hers. I was momentarily saddened by the thought before Martin snapped me back into the conversation with another boisterous tale of a real estate development deal that had nearly fallen through. He was a genuinely charming man. Even though he and Caroline might not have been anyone's idea of a physical match, as far as attractiveness, it was clear that they were very compatible and genuinely enjoyed each other's company. For some reason, the match worked.
We stayed in the restaurant visiting until almost 11:30. I was just about to end the conversation and try to politely excuse myself when Martin interjected, "Well, I think that I've had enough excitement for one evening and I think I have battered poor Patrick with enough stories for one sitting."
The three of us stood up and made our way through the restaurant and back out into the main concourse of the hotel lobby. I had intended to walk Martin and Caroline to the front door when Martin stopped in the middle of the large open space.
"Patrick," he said, extending his hand again, "it has been a true honor and a pleasure to finally get to meet you. Your exploits as a lawman are the stuff of legends and I want you to know that I hold you in the highest regard."
"Thank you, Martin," I said. "That is a very warm sentiment."
"It's the truth, Patrick. It's the truth," he said turning toward Caroline. The two of them took both of each other's hands in their own. "So I will see you in a few hours, then?" he asked Caroline.
"Absolutely, babe," she replied. "Thank you." And the two of them kissed several times before Martin turned and walked toward the main doors of the hotel to his waiting car and driver outside. "Isn't he something?"
"Uh, yeah, he certainly is," I responded, dumbfounded.
Caroline locked her arms in mine and proceeded to walk me toward the elevator. What the hell was going on? Did she intend to stay with me tonight? And was Martin just going to let her? I was almost at the point of slapping myself in the face to see if I was imagining this or not.
We stood waiting for the elevator when Caroline said, "You're probably wondering what this part of the evening is all about, aren't you?"
"That might be a bit of an understatement," I replied.
The doors opened and we entered the elevator car and I pushed the button for the 8th floor.
"Funny how these high-rise hotels never have a 13th floor, isn't it? Some people are so superstitious. Ridiculous!" she said with a chuckle.
The doors closed and we were the only couple in the car.
"You see, Patrick, Martin and I have a completely symbiotic relationship. Each of us brings specific things to the relationship that the other one needs greatly," she explained.
"Oh? How so, exactly?"
"Well," she said, clutching my arm tighter, "Martin was lonely. He wanted someone in his life that he could be with and who could accept him for who he is and the way he is. He is extremely powerful in the business world. He has made friends and enemies all over the country. There isn't anything that he can't do if he puts his mind to it. If he envisions it, he can do it. If he wants it, it will be his."
"And Martin wanted you," I said.
"Exactly," she said, looking deep into my eyes. "So I fill the need for Martin to have someone special in his life, someone who is a good match for him socially and intellectually. I may not have brought any money to the relationship, but I can put up with a lot of the old-money twats and dicks he has to spend time with. And in return for all of that, Martin gives me what I needed most, which is security. The security of knowing that he will never leave me and the security of being financially well-taken care of."
I sensed that something was missing in the equation. "I sense a 'but' somewhere ahead in this conversation," I wagered.
Caroline looked away. "Well, Patrick, anytime something seems to be perfect, you can bet there is always a blemish on the stone somewhere. In Martin's case, the flaws lie in the bedroom."
Bingo. Now I knew exactly where this was going.
The elevator stopped on my floor and we exited to the right and down the hallway to my room. I reached into my pocket and retrieved the keycard and opened the door to my suite. Thankfully, maid service had been by and the room was as neat and orderly as can be, down to the mint on the pillow.
"This is a nice little room," she said off the cuff. Little? She thinks this is little? Wow. This was by far the nicest hotel I had ever stayed at or probably ever would stay at.
"Anyway," Caroline continued, "Martin has a combination of heart disease, high blood pressure and diabetes. He has already had one heart attack and quadruple bypass surgery. The combinations of medications he has to take have taken a toll on his body.
As much as I would love to," she continued while sitting on the bed and removing her shoes, "his poor body can't take the stress of making love to me. We have tried many times, but the poor man simply can't do it. His body betrays him every time and he is just not healthy enough that his doctor will let him take medication to help with it."
"You mean he can't take a Viagra for it?" I asked.
"No," she said sadly. "It never worked for Martin even when he was healthy enough to take it before his first wife died. And now he couldn't take it even if it did."
"So let me guess," I said thinking out loud. "You and Martin have some sort of an 'understanding', right?"
"Yes we do, Patrick," she said sliding her stocking clad foot along the inside of my thigh and bringing it to rest gently on my groin. "It is absolutely the most loving thing any man has ever done for me or could ever possibly do for me. He knows that I still have strong sexual needs and he knows that he can never satisfy them. He promised me that, as long as I never leave him for another man, he will support me getting my needs satisfied as long as I always share everything with him."
"So Martin knows that you're going to be with me tonight," I deduced.
"Yes, he does," she cooed. "Initially, he said no because of the fact that you are my son-in-law," she teased, rubbing her foot against the growing erection in my pants. "But I shared every last detail of our previous encounters with Martin. And he could see in me how just the memory of those times can still turn me on and get me soaking wet. After that, well, he basically demanded that I sleep with you tonight because he is so turned on by the idea of a mother betraying her own daughter by sleeping with her son-in-law. And I get turned on by being able to satisfy a man who hasn't been properly satisfied in months!"
I couldn't take it anymore and I stood up and pulled Caroline up to me. I kissed her deeply and she immediately grabbed my head with both hands and pulled me in tighter. The feel of her velvet dress was incredibly soft and sensuous and only begged me to feel her entire body. I rubbed my hands all across her breasts, her back and over her ass time and again. Just the sight of her in that snug dress, accentuating all her curves, was enough to almost make me explode.
Caroline continued to kiss me passionately as she reached down and unbuckled my belt before sliding down the zipper. She let my trousers slide all the way to the floor and then slipped her hand inside the elastic band of my boxer briefs, fondling my stiff penis and cupping and massaging my enormous testicles.
I reached behind her and slid the zipper of her dress all the way down and helped her shimmy out of the confines of the dress before it, too, fell to her feet. The softness of her skin was equal to the feel of the soft velvet dress and, once again, I got to know the pleasure of my bare skin against hers. I cupped her right breast with my left hand while my right hand explored her back and her ass. Her lingerie was simple, a shimmering black pushup bra that did wonders for her ample cleavage, and a pair of matching black French cut panties that superbly accentuated her hips.
"I know how much you need this, Patrick," she mumbled between kisses. "I need this, too. So bad. So very, very bad."
Caroline pulled my underwear down and off altogether as she gently pushed me down to sit on the edge of the bed. Caroline got on her knees and gently gripped my entire ball sack with one hand and guided my swollen and throbbing cock into her mouth with the other hand. The warmth and wetness of her mouth felt so fucking good. Only the slight downward pressure she was applying to my ball sack kept me from blowing a nut right away.
It had been months since I had enjoyed sex of any kind, let alone a mind-altering blowjob. Caroline's skill in this was absolutely unmatched and I could feel my body turning into a wet noodle. Over and over Caroline expertly bobbed her head up and down, my cock going in and out of her mouth. The sensation of her tongue and lips was exquisite. Never once did her teeth touch the skin of my penis. Occasionally she would stop and pay particular attention to the head of my phallus, giving especially tantalizing licks to the super sensitive skin just underneath it, before going back down all the way to my balls.
After four or five minutes of this I started to feel that familiar dull ache in my groin as my testicles started to tense in anticipation of a massive ejaculation. Soon, my seed was rising quickly and there was no way to stop the avalanche.
"UHHHH!!!" I grunted loudly.
Rope after steaming hot rope of my cum spewed forth and into Caroline's mouth. Just when I thought I was done cumming, another shot would jet forth. Caroline did her best to catch and swallow all of it but there was just too much. My giant balls hadn't been emptied in months and my body wouldn't stop spasming until they were good and empty.
I collapsed backward onto the bed, thinking I was done for, but Caroline kept up with her ministrations on my slightly sagging cock. The sensation of her continuing to suck my spent cock was amazing in and of itself and helped prolong and plateau the sexual high I was feeling. Perhaps it was because I had been deprived of sexual release for so long but I began to realize that my refractory period was non-existent. Even after blowing a massive load, my penis was soon rock hard again.
I sat back up on the edge of the bed and led Caroline to lie down on the bed next to me. I stripped off the remaining clothing I still had on, which wasn't much, and proceeded to remove the sexy bra and panties that Caroline was wearing. I immediately placed my mouth over her left nipple and gently sucked inward, bringing her nipple to full attention. I reached down with my left hand and ran my fingers through the thick, perfectly manicured patch of brown hair on her mound. My fingers continued to explore south and soon encountered a flood of wetness as they glided effortlessly over her swollen clit and between the folds of her labia. Her back arched from the dual sensations of having her tit sucked and her pussy fondled. My middle finger found its way deep inside her pussy and I continued to kiss her, suck her tits and finger fuck her until she, too, was on the verge of a brief, but intense, orgasm of her own.
Such was the intensity that as she was cumming, Caroline leaned over and gently but firmly bit onto my right ear and didn't let go until she was finished.
With the orgasm score now evened, I switched positions and aimed my mouth right for her beautiful pussy as I decided I just had to taste her. As my face got closer to her delicious honey pot, the scent of her sex became intoxicating and I lost all ability to reason. I pulled her all the way onto the large bed and proceeded to pull both of her knees upwards, fully exposing her delicious peach and naturally spreading the lips.
I started with gentle swirls of her clit, occasionally sucking it into my mouth. Then I would flatten my tongue and glide it the entire length of her pussy, stopping just short of her puckered sphincter. With each lapping of her soaked love canal, I enjoyed the sight of her anus tensing and releasing, as she tried to stave off another powerful orgasm, but was losing the fight. More and more fluid was being released from her pussy with each passing of my tongue over her swollen lips and clit. Finally, her abdomen tensed and she tried as hard as she could to grind her pussy into my face before I finished her off for good by placing my mouth over her entire pussy and sucking deeply in and swirling my tongue repeatedly. Caroline's fingernails dug deeply into my neck and shoulders as she moaned loudly with an even more powerful orgasm from my oral attention.
But I wasn't done yet. Once I get the scent of pussy in my nose and the taste of it on my lips and tongue, I have to have more. I need to have it.
"No, Patrick," she moaned breathlessly. "Give me a minute to......ohhhhh..."
Soon she was lost in the pleasure again. But I decided to give her something else to occupy her, as well. In one deft maneuver, I rolled onto my back into a sixty-nine position and brought her on top of me. This gave her full access to me again and soon she had a mouthful of cock and a handful of balls to complement my face full of pussy.
The soft light of the hotel room lights provided not only ambiance, but also a great view of the action. I loved being able to look at her ass and pussy as I continually licked and sucked the nectar from her. I pulled gently down on her hips, getting her ass closer to my face, and gently pulled her ass cheeks further apart and exposing her beautiful puckered anus. I paused my expert cunnilingus just long enough to giver her sphincter a soft and gentle swirl. Caroline stopped sucking me and let out a gasp as I did so. She continued to stroke my cock with her hand but I could tell that she was anticipating another swirl of my tongue in her anus. The smell was faint and pungent but highly exciting, nonetheless. I reached out with my tongue again and continued to lick in a swirling motion. Caroline had obviously never experienced this before but was clearly enjoying it.
"Patrick," she cooed. "What are you doing back there? Oh, my God..."
I continued to lick and swirl her spasming sphincter for a couple of minutes while she stopped to take it all in and enjoy it. Then I returned to finish my oral work on her sodden pussy, once again placing my mouth in a seal over her pussy and sucking deeply in while making more swirling motions. Again the technique worked and her juices flooded my already glistening face as her body shuddered from another powerful orgasm.
Caroline shifted her position and turned completely around, straddling my waist and mounting me. She closed her eyes as she savored the sensation of my cock effortlessly sliding into her well-lubed vagina.
Once I was balls deep, she stopped and looked deep into my eyes in a way that made me think she was staring right into my soul. She leaned forward and cupped my face with both hands and kissed me deeply and passionately as she began to grind her hips back and forth on my cock.
Caroline's blowjobs are amazing but nothing feels better than having your cock buried deeply inside an inviting pussy. It felt so amazing and I knew that my orgasm was only moments away. One huge downfall to having sex so infrequently is getting out of rhythm. My cock was so starved of pussy that it knew no better and just wanted to get off itself.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Caroline's pussy must think the same way my cock does because, in no time at all, we were both quickly approaching a mutual orgasm like runaway trains. I could feel her pussy clench and start to flood with her juices again just as I could feel my own orgasm start to build.

Faster and faster, in a total frenzy, I was pumping my cock in and out of Caroline's drenched pussy. Both of us were moaning each other's names as we were about to go over the edge.
I reached up and gently but firmly grabbed Caroline's hair and pulled her in close for one last deep kiss and our mutual moans were absorbed into each other's mouth as we both exploded at the same time. I didn't think I had it in me but, again, I continued to gush out rope after rope of hot cum into Caroline's willing pussy. I could feel her pussy tighten and relax over and over again as her own orgasm continued to exert its blissful influence.
Caroline collapsed on top of me, my cock still buried deep within her. I could feel something gently tapping the top of my dick from within when I realized it must be the contractions of her cervix. I'm not a huge man by any means, but somehow I was able to experience incredible penetration with Caroline.
She tried to move from me but her entire body was still trembling and quaking too much. We lay there for nearly five minutes, each of us basking in the afterglow of our mutual bliss. Finally, Caroline regained the strength to roll to her side as my flagging cock flipped out of her pussy with a loud, wet pop!
My hips and groin were absolutely saturated with her juices. I rolled towards her and gently started fondling her pussy again in hopes that I could jump start another session. I felt my own juices as they were oozing from her pussy. Caroline gently pushed my hand away.
"Not just yet, Cowboy. We have a long night ahead of us, I know, but I need a moment to collect myself," she said, out of breath.
"Shall we skip the appetizer next time and just go straight for dessert?" I chuckled.
"We can skip the appetizer but not a shower. If we're going to keep at it, I need to clean up first. I hope you have an extra towel!"
"That's one thing I have plenty of," I said.
Twenty minutes later we both emerged from a steam filled bathroom, clad only in towels. I pulled back the covers on the bed and started to crawl in. I was amused to see that the juices of our previous session of hot sex had managed to seep through the covers and left a small damp spot on the fitted sheet. I brushed my hand over it lightly.
"Don't worry about it," Caroline said. "That spot is going to get a lot bigger as the night goes on."
Caroline didn't waste any time removing her towel and mine and it was 'game on' again.
She obviously knew what she wanted and grabbed me by the ears, steadily guiding my face to her pussy. Her bush was still wet from the shower but her lips and clit revealed fresh wetness from arousal. Her pussy tasted so fresh that I felt I could lick and suckle her for a week.
After gently licking her to full arousal, she adjusted herself so as to slip into a nice 69 position with both of us on our sides. I rested my head on the inside of her thigh while I performed slow, gentle licks of her pussy. I gently pulled her ass checks apart and deftly explored her anus some more, which seemed to be virgin territory for her. Each gentle caress of her tantalizing sphincter made her pussy and stomach muscles tighten and she reached back with her free hand and seemed to guide my hand to explore further.
Caroline drove me wild by taking turns and placing each testicle in her mouth and gently suckling. If you have never had a woman take your balls in her mouth completely, you don't know what you're missing. She alternated by giving oral massage to my balls and then taking my cock balls deep in her mouth.
Our oral sex session lasted between 10 to 15 minutes before Caroline decided to bring the festivities to a halt.
"Patrick," she said seductively, "I want you to do to me what you did a little while ago."
"Which was.....what?"
"The part where you licked my ass, Patrick. I have never felt anything so exquisite and naughty before. It was almost too much."
"Consider it done," I smiled.
I got off the bed and knelt down at the side. I positioned Caroline on all fours and told her to keep her hips and ass elevated but to rest her head and shoulders on the bed. This gave me complete access and exposure to both her ass AND her pussy and would let me alternate between the two.
I started again on her pussy, repeatedly giving her long and slow licks along the entire length of her slit. Occasionally, I placed extra attention on her swollen clit, too. Caroline's hips were continually swaying gently and she gyrated slightly as if to will me to lick her ass again.
Finally, I made one last slow pass with my tongue along her moist folds before letting the tip of my tongue rest on her sphincter. She let out a gasp and her anus puckered over and over again, almost demanding me to stick my tongue deep in her ass. I was only too happy to comply.
I made a few swirls with my tongue around the muscle of her tight ass, while my right thumb found its place on her clit. Her ass was releasing some of its tension and I pushed the tip of my tongue inside the ring of her anus, causing more gasps and coos of delight.
I continued to worship her ass while fingering and thumbing her pussy. Caroline repeatedly cried out her delight at this world of new sensations I had opened for her.
"Oh, God, Patrick! That feels so fucking good! Lick my ass and finger fuck me good!"
Just hearing her say that took my cock from being half-erect to standing at full attention. I was gonna need a place to put my cock and soon. To my amazement, Caroline made that decision for me.
"Oh, Patrick! I want you to fuck me now! I want you to fuck me hard!"
I stood from my position next to the bed and was at the perfect position to bury my cock deep inside her pussy. I aimed the head right for the opening and was just about to enter.
"No, Patrick! Not my pussy! I want it in my ass!"
"Are you sure?" I asked. "If so, I can't fuck you hard. It is going to have to be gentle at first."
"I don't care. I've never had a cock in my ass before and right now I want yours!"
She grabbed at her purse on the nightstand and feverishly fished around inside, emerging with a small bottle of personal lubricant.
"Here! Now do it, Patrick!"
I took the bottle and poured out most of the contents on my rock hard cock while Caroline kept herself busy, alternating between rubbing her clit and fingering her own ass.
With my cock now well oiled and lubed, I re-aimed my cock at the entrance of her ass instead of her pussy. I poured the remainder of the fluid over her ass and rubbed it all over to get her good and lubed.
I gently placed my cock against her puckered asshole and eased it forward. It was tight as hell, but Caroline cooed as I attempted to penetrate her. I pulled back as I didn't want to hurt her. I quickly but gently eased one finger from my right hand in and out of her ass while I continued to stroke myself with the other. After a minute of two of fingering her ass, I was ready to try again. Once again, I eased the tip of my rigid cock forward until the swollen head was just inside the outer ringer of her sphincter. Caroline cocked her head back and moaned, "Ooh, that's it, Patrick! Go further! All the way in!"
I took my time but steadily eased forward until about half the shaft was in. Then I withdrew until only the head was still inside of her and then eased my way forward again. After several gentle strokes, my cock was buried inside Caroline's ass all the way to the hilt.
I paused for a few moments to let Caroline's body naturally adjust to this anal invasion. Soon, I was slowly and gently stroking my cock in and out of her ass. I reached around her hip with one of my free hands and found her clit and started fingering her. Her moans and gasps of pleasure begged me on and soon my stroking had quickened its pace. I still wasn't fucking her fast and hard but steadily and gently. The tightness of her ass around my cock was absolutely mind blowing. Although I had always wanted to try this with Clarissa she had made it clear early on in our relationship that her ass was strictly off limits. And now here I was ass fucking her own mother!!!
"Oh, that feels so good, Patrick! Please, now. Harder! Faster!"
Just as she begged, I picked up my pace and was going at such a good clip that the sound of my balls rhythmically slapping against her pussy with each stroke kept the time of our fucking. Harder and faster, faster and harder. The lubricant made each stroke more and more effortless. I could feel her pussy juices running over my fingers as I continued to stroke her clit while Caroline played with her own breast and nipple with her free hand.
"Oh, shit," I moaned. "I can't hold this much longer," I warned.
Caroline herself started moaning and was soon on the verge of the throes again.
"Oh, fuck, Patrick! You make me feel so good!"
I felt another surge of fluids on my hands just as I blew another hot load of jizz right into Caroline's ass. Over and over I bucked my hips against Caroline's ass as I came, willing every last drop of semen in my body to make a hasty exit. If this was the last sex I was going to have for a while, I wanted this night to end with me completely spent.
By the time the initial wave of our mutual orgasms ebbed, it was all I could do to keep standing. Caroline's ass was locked so tight around my cock that it would still be a few minutes before my erection subsided enough to ease out of her. For her part, Caroline just stayed there, savoring every last moment and sensation.
Finally, my cock was free from her, the entrance to her rectum now the size of a quarter and gaping from my sexual intrusion.
Caroline collapsed onto her side. I slide in behind her and spooned her. Both of us were completely exhausted. As I looked at the clock beside the bed, the time read 3:35 a.m.
"God, we've been fucking for almost three hours!" I chuckled.
"Are you saying it is time well spent?" Caroline giggled.
"Oh, that and so much more," I replied exhausted.
Caroline's mood changed suddenly and became instantly somber. She reached for my hand and pulled my arm around her tightly into an embrace.
"Oh, Patrick," she sighed. "It is a pity that it can't always be like this."
"Yeah, I know," I replied.
"No, I'm afraid you don't," she said. "Believe me when I tell you that I wished the four of you lived closer to me so I could see you all more often....and so that you and I could do this whenever we wanted."
"Well, you know, we're only about 3 and ½ hours away. It really isn't that far when you think about it."
"You don't understand, Patrick. It isn't that."
I was puzzled. And a little worried. "Well, what is it then?"
"You're going to hate me when I tell you," she replied. I smiled incredulously.
"Nothing could make me hate you, Caroline. Nothing."
Caroline rolled over toward me and looked me deeply in my eyes.
"God, Patrick, but you are a beautiful man. I love my daughter with all my heart but I absolutely despise the fact that she could possibly treat you in such a despicable manner. If I were twenty years younger, Patrick, I would have fought Clarissa to the death for a shot at a man like you."
I looked away from her glance, embarrassed by the flattery.
"No, Patrick. It is true. I want you to know how much I absolutely adore you because what I'm about to tell you is going to be incredibly hard for you to hear," she said. "It is also the reason I absolutely had to have you tonight. When I told Martin who I wanted to have sex with tonight, he initially refused because you are my son-in-law. But when I told him why and about the incredible passion we shared, he relented and gave in. But only for tonight."
I shook my head in disbelief. "What are you saying? What is this all about?"
"Oh, Patrick. Please tell me that you know how much I love and adore you."
"I think I know well," I smiled. "I think you just proved it to me. And I wish you could prove it to me over and over again."
She kissed me gently. "Good. Because I want you to know that no matter what happens the rest of tonight or for the rest of your life, that there is someone in this world who believes in you, who cherishes you and who desires you in every way, even if I can no longer act on it again in my lifetime."
"Okay," I said. "I do understand that Caroline. But really, what is this all about?"
She sighed deeply. "What I'm about to tell you is going to be incredibly difficult for you to hear, my dear. But you need to hear it because you deserve to hear it and because you are too good of a man and don't deserve to be treated the way that you are."
"Clarissa and I are in a rough place," I admitted. "But we'll get through this, I'm sure. I have hope that she will eventually find a cure, so to speak, and we will be able to move forward from this. I asked her to take these two weeks to really think about things and I truly believe that she will."
"Oh, Patrick," she said, sympathetically. "You are such a good man for believing that. And I wish that I could tell you that you are right. But you're not. Please, please, please don't hate me for telling you this. But," she said, looking down, "Clarissa is having an affair."
I felt like a bomb went off. Impossible. There was no way. Absolutely no way possible.
"You're wrong," I said, shaking my head and sitting straight up. "That's impossible. Clarissa has her own issues with sex. If she can't even have sex with me, there's no way she could with someone else, especially a stranger."
"It isn't a stranger, Patrick," she said. "Betrayal often comes from those who are closest to us. In this case, it is your wife and a friend of yours."
My mind was racing. "Who? Who could it possibly be?"
"I can't say for sure. But I speak with Clarissa nearly every night. Even though you and I have had our moments of passion, she is still my daughter and I know my daughter well."
I sat up on the edge of the bed. Caroline sat up next to me and wrapped her arms around me for support.
"This, this...can't be," I groped. "This all just doesn't make any sense."
"No affairs do, Patrick. Not even ours. But if it comforts you, then know that my daughter's betrayal of you began long before our moment on your farm last year."
"What?" I demanded. "You knew she was having an affair and THAT'S why you seduced me?" That part was at least starting to make some shred of sense now.
"I'm so sorry, Patrick. I felt terrible and ashamed that Clarissa would treat you that way. I was in such a sad state myself with yet another divorce. I could sense that you were hurting and I was hurting, too. I wanted us both to not have to hurt for a little while, to feel good for at least a little while." She kissed me on my cheek and ear. "You are such a good man and you don't deserve this, Patrick. I didn't deserve it with Dale and you don't deserve this with Clarissa."
I struggled to make some connection to all of this. I thought about all the changes over the last few years. Clarissa's refusal to do ANYTHING to help her low testosterone condition, was THAT possibly just a ruse to keep from having sex with me in order to satisfy a lover? Oh, God! All of the excuses, the reasons for not wanting sex. All of the general bitchiness that I have had to endure. The reasons for not wanting to visit me while I lay on my near-death bed after the shooting. All of the excuses for how the shooting affected her and the boys. Encouraging the boys to go to public college this year instead of being home collegeed. Me working a day shift. The incessant lapse in doing housework or work on the farm when I was working myself or when I was hospitalized. The boys' references to their mother being on the computer constantly. The cryptic phone calls. The insistence on having the latest and greatest smart phone. With my work schedule Clarissa would have had all the time in the world to initiate or be seduced into an affair. The weekend shopping trips she had been taking over the last year with her friends. Did they really happen? Or was it yet another lie to cover up time spent with a lover? God, I felt like the stupidest man in the world.
When had it all started? It had to be shortly before or just after we moved to the farm. It was right about then when the changes in Clarissa most became noticeable. And her absolute refusal to do anything about her so-called "medical condition" was simply the cap stone to a bridge full of lies and deceit.
"God, I think I am going to be sick," I said.
"Patrick, listen to me," Caroline said sternly. "Patrick, this is not your fault. What happened between you and me is not your fault. What happened with Clarissa is not your fault. None of this is your fault!"
"Who?" I wondered out loud. "Who could it be? Do you have any idea?"
Caroline shook her head. "No, I don't. All I know is that it is someone you are close with. Someone you work with perhaps? A friend you spend time with? Someone from church? "
"Impossible. None of the guys I work with would be that stupid and we really don't socialize that much."
"I'm so sorry, Patrick. I really truly am." She leaned in again and gave me a peck on the lips. She still smelled so good. Normally it would have been enough to get me into another round of hot sex, but the revelation that my wife was probably having an affair killed any possible mood.
"Please don't hate me, Patrick," Caroline said softly. "I'm sorry my reasons for being here tonight are so selfish. I just needed to have you one last time for myself and to be able to remind you of the man you are. And because you deserve the truth."
"I appreciate that, Caroline," I said. "Really, I do. I wish we could go on like this forever but I have an awful lot to get sorted out."
"Now you understand why this is our last moment in the sun together. Because, Patrick" she said, stroking my face. "Clarissa will always be my daughter. She and my grandsons will always have to come first. You know that, deep down. And secondly, if this all goes the way I expect, then you and Clarissa will almost certainly get a divorce. Even if you reconcile, anything you and I have shared will just get in the way. And you will never be able to be completely honest with her and neither will I. Knowing what we have done would be unforgivable in her eyes. It will justify everything that she has done and it will all get turned around on you. And without complete honesty and transparency, any kind of reconciliation is doomed to fail even before it begins."
Caroline was right. She had hit the nail on the head. Unless Clarissa and I could ever learn to be honest with one another, we would never trust each other again. I could handle confessing to being with any other lover but I could never confess to being with my mother-in-law. That would cause the most destruction. No matter how I looked at it, my marriage had been dealt two fatal blows, one by Clarissa and one by me.
Caroline called Martin and asked him for permission to stay the night so that she and I could talk. More than likely, this night would be the last time that Caroline and I ever spent any time together whatsoever. She swore she would make it up to Martin and that this was the finish between the two of us. Martin reluctantly agreed and I told Caroline to convey my thanks to him, which he graciously accepted.
We spent the rest of the night talking and cuddling and didn't fall asleep until almost 8 am. I didn't worry about attending the Saturday session of the conference since I knew that I wasn't going to be there for the rest of it, anyway.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

We both slept until early afternoon and then had one more terrific sex session as a way to say our final goodbye. It was gentler and lacked the ferocity and intensity of the animalistic sex we enjoyed the night before. But it was more sensual and passionate and left us both feeling completely satisfied. If I could describe it best, I would say that it was as close to making love as I had done in quite some time.

We took one final shower together so Caroline could go home to Martin in a presentable state, after which I walked her down to the lobby and personally ushered her into a waiting taxi with one final kiss. I stood at the entrance of the hotel watching her drive away until the yellow cab was completely out of sight. All I could wonder is whether or not my sore eyes would ever behold the vision of my beautiful mother-in-law ever again.
I wasted no time in packing my stuff. I pretty much just threw everything together and then called the front desk to have the valet bring my car to the main entrance. I didn't even bother to officially check out of the hotel, such was the depth of my anger. I just wanted to get back on the road, to get back home and face the coming onslaught and get it over with.
I threw everything I had in the back seat of the big Crown Vic and headed out of the parking lot towards the interstate that would take me back home. The grotesque feeling I now had gnawing at me in the pit of my stomach matched perfectly with the mood I was currently in. I began to wonder what the direction of my life would be from here on out. How would this affect my relationship with my boys? How would this affect my job? Our relationships with our friends? So many questions I had and currently had no answers for them.
I was about an hour west of Minneapolis when I realized that I should probably give Sheriff Roberts a call. I decided to simply tell him that we had a family emergency that Clarissa needed me home for and that I would try and make the rest of the conference if I was able to. I hoped that it would satisfy Bud for the time being and allow me to think of a better excuse over the next day or so. After all, the department and the county were paying quite a big of money for me to attend the conference. And I was new enough in the job that I didn't want to disappoint Bud, either.
I reached for my department phone and punched the speed dial for Bud's cell phone. The phone rang approximately six times before going to Bud's voicemail. It wasn't all that unusual as I knew that he often liked to be inaccessible for at least a few hours each weekend that he spent with his wife Margolene. Margolene was about the same age as my mother-in-law and although still attractive, she couldn't hold a candle to Caroline. Not even a little bit. I decided it was important enough so I called directly to his house phone. After a couple of rings, Margolene answered the phone.
"Hello?" I had to admit Margolene did have a very pleasant sounding voice.
"Margolene?"
"Yes? Who is it?"
"Margolene, this is Patrick Quinn."
"Oh, Patrick! Hello!" she exclaimed. "How is the law enforcement conference going in the big city?"
"It's going very well. Lots to learn," I lied. Truth is, it was as boring as shit most of the time. But before I could go on, Margolene interjected.
"Yeah, that's what Bud says. Actually, he says he is learning more at the hotel bar just gabbing away with all of the rest of the security officer chiefs and sheriffs there. Bud told me a little while ago that you two are going to the hockey game tonight."
I had to catch myself. "I'm sorry," I said. "What was that? You cut out on me for a sec," I lied.
"Bud says that everyone does more networking after hours than during class. I think it is neat that the two of you can attend that conference together," she went on. "He said you two are going to the game tonight."
I was stunned and an ice cold wave washed over my stomach. If not for my training, I'm sure that I would have lost control and slammed my cruiser into a concrete barrier or bridge abutment. I started to feel shaky all over as the revelation hit me. Margolene had no idea that Bud was no longer at the conference. But if the good Sheriff wasn't in Minneapolis, where could he be? The only place he could possibly be -- at my house, fucking my wife.
I must have spaced off for a few moments. "Patrick?" Margolene asked. "Are you still there, hon?"
I regained focus. "Uh...yes, yes I am. I'm sorry. Um, it's been such a long day I'm not even sure what I called about. I must have hit the wrong number for Bud when I was trying to call him."
"Oh. Okay," she replied, sounding just as confused as me. "Well, tell Bud to give me a call. I'm sure you'll probably see him there soon. Gotta be close to dinner time, isn't it?"
"Uh, yeah. Dinner. Right." God, I was trying to sound normal but obviously failing. I had to end the conversation now. "Well, I better run. Sorry for the mix up." I hung up before she could even reply.
There was an off ramp ahead and a decent sized truck stop. I knew I needed to get off the road and clear my head for a bit or else I was going to space off and get into a wreck.
I pulled into the large truck stop and parked on the automobile side and went into the diner. I went into the bathroom to pee and also to wash up. I thought freshening up a bit might help to calm my nerves. I knew it was going to be a long night ahead so I grabbed a tall coffee while I was in there. I sat down in one of the booths and started to go over everything I knew.
Caroline obviously knew something was going on with Clarissa and had been for a year or more. I suspected or knew that Caroline wasn't going to give me specific details because that would invariably lead to Clarissa knowing who I got the information from. Caroline said that Clarissa was probably fucking someone I knew, someone I possibly worked with. Considering that I wasn't really close with anyone else on the department besides Bud Roberts himself that left him as the only possible suspect. Combine that with the fact Bud's own wife obviously thought he was 200 miles away from home pretty much confirmed everything I needed to know. How could I have not seen this? Jesus, I felt stupid!
After an hour or so and lots of coffee, I felt steady enough to get back on the road again. I should have eaten something but I didn't think I could keep anything down. My stomach was literally in a knot. Two hours later, I was back in Mason County and the scenery started to look familiar again. I took the exit off the interstate and headed west towards US 120 and then north on 120 until I hit Rattlesnake Road. Once I made the turn west, I pulled over to the side and made a mental preparation for what I would see. Obviously, Bud wasn't in Minneapolis and he obviously wasn't home. And if he wasn't either of those two places, then he was most likely at my house. The only thing I could hope for was that Clarissa would have the good sense to send the boys away for the weekend if she was going to be in our house fucking MY boss.
I turned off the headlights and crept slowly over the hill until the farm house was in sight. When I was about 200 feet from the driveway, I parked the cruiser and killed the engine and walked the rest of the way home. Soon, the unmistakable sight of a large white SUV was sitting parked in front of the garage, easily visible under the yard light. The downstairs lights were on and the shades were all down. No upstairs bedroom or bathroom lights were on.
I walked the last 200 feet and slowly made my way toward the front door. I scanned all the windows for signs of movement inside. As I did so, the obvious form of a man crossed in front of the window in the dining room. I gently crept up on the porch and carefully peered inside.
Sure enough, there was my lovely wife Clarissa, dressed only in her satin night gown and an open bath robe on. Next to her with his hand tenderly caressing her back was none other than Sheriff William "Bud" Roberts, dressed only in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. They looked as comfortable and at-home as the people you would find in any Norman Rockwell painting. The only difference was, they were a couple of cheating assholes who were cheating on ME in MY own home!
I watched them for a few minutes. From their body language, they looked like they were having a minor disagreement about something. The thick front windows prevented me from hearing exactly what they were saying. But after a short time, Clarissa obviously relented on some topic and she leaned in to hug Bud while Bud kissed her gently on the forehead. They embraced for a short while before Clarissa leaned back and looked up at Bud before they shared a very intimate and passionate kiss.
That was too much for me. My blood pressure went from already high to off-the-chart! I was furious as I stood up and burst through the front door of my house like a tornado. Thank God it wasn't locked so I didn't have to kick it in. My abrupt intrusion obviously caught them off guard. Amazingly and instinctively, Bud actually grabbed Clarissa by the shoulders and placed her in front of himself, using her as a human shield against whatever his mind thought was invading the house.
"Patrick!" Clarissa gasped, realizing it was me. "Oh, my God!"
"What the hell are you doing here?" Bud demanded. "You're supposed to be in Minneapolis!"
"Yeah, I know," I said slowly and steadily walking toward the scantily clad couple. "Funny thing is, Bud, SO ARE YOU!!!" I was fuming as I continued walking toward them.
"Now look, Patrick," Bud said holding his hand out towards me. "I don't know what you think this is, but this is not what it looks like."
I stopped in my tracks. "Are you fucking stupid, Bud? Or do you just think that I'm that fucking stupid?"
"No, Patrick, I don't think you are stupid. I wouldn't have hired you if I did," Bud replied weakly, as Clarissa removed herself from Bud's grasp.
"Because," I continued, "what it looks like to me is that my long-time friend and current boss has been fucking my wife," I said sarcastically. "And you know what they always say. First impressions are usually right!"
Clarissa said nothing as she distanced herself from both me and Bud. The only thing she could do was look down in shame and cinch her bath robe closed.
"Alright, Patrick. Fair enough," Bud said. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way."
"Oh, well, apology accepted Bud. Tell me something. How long have you two been fucking?"
"It isn't like that," Clarissa interrupted. "It isn't like that at all."
"What Clarissa means, Patrick, is that she and I aren't just having an affair. She and I are in love and intend to be together when this is all over with," Bud explained nonchalantly.
"What do you mean when this is all over with? And when did "this" actually start? Huh? How long has this shit been going on?" I demanded.
Bud let out a sigh. "It started before I hired you, Patrick."
It was worse than I thought. "I started working for you almost two years ago!"
"Yeah, that's about right."
"It ends," I demanded. "It ends right fucking now!"
"Not gonna happen, pal."
Clarissa continued to say nothing, although tears were now streaming down her cheeks.
"And why not?"
"Because this ends with Clarissa and I being together, Patrick, and it ends when I say it ends. Not you. As I said, we have already made plans."
"Oh?" I said. "Why don't you at least do me the courtesy of filling me in on these plans?"
"Okay," Bud said walking closer to me. "Clarissa and I are in love. We have been for quite some time. I'm going to keep you in your current position until the election is over with next fall. After that, I will publicly announce my separation from Margolene and Clarissa will eventually separate from you. After the dust settles down from our respective situations, then Clarissa and I will take our relationship to the next level."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Not only were they planning on continuing their affair, they were planning on probably getting married.
"And what about me?" I asked. "How are you going to explain to the public that you are having an affair with my wife? What are you going to do if I end up telling Margolene about all of this? Christ, Bud! She still thinks you're at that damned conference, too!"
Bud's face got stone cold and lost all expression. "Patrick, Margolene is not going to find out because you are not going to say a goddamned word about it. And my relationship with Clarissa is not going public until after you and she are already divorced. I've seen to everything, Patrick. There is no way for this thing to end with you and Clarissa still being together."
"Really? How do you think you are going to stop me?" I dared.
"Patrick, I have numerous ways to stop you. Most of them are already in place. I have a dozen reports, violations, investigations and complaints just waiting in the wings. If I even sniff for a second that you aren't playing your part in this, I will absolutely snap your fucking career in two, you got me? I will break you, professionally. You'll be a pariah, no matter how many times you've been shot trying to save little girls. You're now my Chief Deputy. You have a lot of control over department money and program oversight. You oversee investigations, you write a lot of reports. Maybe there are one or two things from your time as a Deputy that followed you into your new position, things I didn't know about at the time but have suddenly come to light now that you're Chief Deputy. Maybe a certain gentleman in the community named Elmer Suggs has been dying to file a complaint of security officer brutality against you and now we've decided to look into the matter based on some new evidence that has arisen."
Elmer Suggs? No way. I was one of the few people that actually showed any compassion towards that man.
"You see, Patrick," Bud continued, gaining more confidence, "I have thought this through and thoroughly. I didn't become Sheriff by being stupid. Every thing I do in this job has been a result of a calculated decision and meticulous planning."
I stood there seething. "Why? Why would you do this to a friend, Bud?"
For a moment, Bud genuinely looked sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Patrick. I'm sorry that you are married to Clarissa and all of this is necessary. But I have had feelings for her for quite some time." He went over and stood next to Clarissa and added the insult of putting his arm around her. "I simply decided that I had to have her. I decided that I needed to be Sheriff and I became Sheriff. I'm a man who gets what he wants, Patrick."
I looked at Clarissa. She was still too embarrassed or ashamed to even look at me.
"I think the best thing, Patrick, would be for you to pack some things and find a place to stay for a while," Bud said.
"Oh, hell no. If I leave here tonight, your ass is leaving, too. I may have walked in on this fucking mess tonight, but I'm sure as hell not going to leave here and turn my back on it. If you two are going to pull this shit, you sure as hell aren't going to do it in my house. If you insist on fucking and having an affair, I probably can't stop you. You're right about that. But this is MY house and I will NOT allow it to happen here!"
"Patrick, I really don't think you're in the position to make any demands right now. Clarissa and I have already decided what is going to happen. And if there is anything else that needs to be said, it is simply that we should agree that whatever I decide is inevitable."
"Well, Bud, I have a .38 service revolver strapped to my belt right now that says I have the right to make any demand I want to in my own house!. And it also says that a man standing in my kitchen dressed in a t-shirt and underwear had better fucking listen!"
Both Bud and Clarissa stood back as I opened my coat to show the revolver perched on my hip.
"Whoa, Patrick. Let's not do anything stupid right now."
"Go pack your shit, Bud. If it makes you feel better, I'm not staying either. I don't really have a desire to wake up in the same house as my whore of a wife, either. But BOTH of us are going to fucking leave here tonight, you got me? "
"Alright, Patrick. Fair enough. But I need your assurance that you won't hurt Clarissa if I leave."
"Well, Bud," I smiled, 'if it makes you feel better, the only person whose brains I want to blow out right now more than my own are yours. So, no, I'm not going to hurt the mother of my kids. But things are going to get ugly if you refuse to leave my house tonight!"
"Fair enough. I'll go get my things now."
Bud turned to head upstairs and I followed him. As we got to the top of the stairs, he turned into the guest bedroom and the room and bed were a mess. At least they had a tiny shred of decency not to fuck in my own bed, for God's sake.
I made a beeline for the master bedroom and furiously began ripping clothes out of the closet and my dressers. Clarissa followed me into the room. Bud gave her a worried glance as she did so. She shut the door behind her and approached me from behind and put her hand on my shoulder.
"Patrick," she said sobbing,"I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you like this. I---"
"Don't!" I yelled, reeling from her touch like a burned man. "Don't touch me! You do not have the right to touch me without my permission ever again! Any rights and privileges you ever had in this marriage disappeared the minute you stopped being my wife and started being Bud Roberts' fucking whore!"
Clarissa winced and reeled at the insult.
"For years, you have been coming up with bullshit excuses for why we couldn't be intimate. Years' worth of rejection because of your so-called health! Well, Hale-e-fucking-lu-yah! It is a miracle! Apparently Bud Roberts' semen was the magic, natural cure you were looking for all this time."
She just stood there sobbing as I packed and lobbed insults. I knew the time would inevitably come when she and I would have to have a serious talk about our future. But I was WAY too angry to have that conversation right now.
"Are you proud of yourself?" I growled. "Does it make you happy knowing that you've completely destroyed our family? Taken our kids' father away from them?"
For some reason, the last thing I did before I stormed out of the room was to rifle through both night stands. When I opened the drawer on Clarissa's side of the bed what I saw was a virtual slap in the face. I reached in and picked up a tube of medical cream that was inside and briefly studied the label on the outside. The cream was called Andosterone and it was a prescription treatment for low testosterone in women.
I stood there holding the tube of cream in my hands in total disbelief. I looked at Clarissa who just held her hands to her mouth. She was in shock at my discovery, too, although she didn't seem to hide it well. But, then again, why should she? I had been gone for the past week. I was too angry, shocked and blisteringly hurt to say anything. My reaction and expression was all I needed to say.
I threw everything into an old oversize gym bag and stormed out of the bedroom. I was met by Bud who had been standing outside eavesdropping.
"Downstairs, asshole!" I ordered. Bud complied.
As we got to the front door, Bud paused and turned towards me.
"Patrick, I want your assurance that nothing will happen to Clarissa. As you can see, she's pretty upset. I really think one of us needs to stay with her. Let's think about her first, Pat." God, the condescension in his voice just made me want to punch him in his goddamned throat.
"Clarissa will be fine, Bud. But you won't if you don't get the fuck out of my house!"

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Bud just looked at me for a few moments with the look on his face of a father disappointed in his insolent child. It made me want to cut off his eyelids. Finally, he turned towards Clarissa and said, "I'll call you soon, I promise." Then he tried to lean in for a kiss.

"Don't! " I warned. "Don't fucking do that. I don't give a shit what you do when I'm not around and away from this house but I will not be disrespected by you two for one more fucking minute! I swear to God, Bud, if you so much as blow her a kiss as you leave I will beat the fucking shit out of you."
Reluctantly, Bud backed away and started toward the door. Clarissa didn't look at either of us. As I turned to leave myself, I stood at the doorway and just glared at her. She stood there still dressed in her little nightie. Any man in his right mind would have found her incredibly sexy and desirous. But all I could feel was the black emptiness of contempt.
"By the way, Bud, I couldn't help but notice how you used my soon-to-be-ex-wife as a human shield the minute I burst through my own front door. Funny seeing that as you now seem to be so concerned about her well-being. God, you are a pathetic excuse for a man!"
Bud said nothing, gave Clarissa one last look for goodbye and headed out the door.
The cold of the night matched my feelings as I walked the distance back to my car. Bud pulled out slowly and followed me to make sure that I didn't double back, just as he knew that I would be watching him, too.
I drove the ten miles back to Red River Falls and checked myself into the Skyline Drive Motel, one of the city's less-reputable inns. The only thing missing was the hourly rate. As much as I hated to, I went ahead paid for the monthly rate of $300. Yeah, you can probably imagine what kind of a place it was for $300 a month. I just hoped they washed the sheets at least once a week.
I threw all of my bags down on the bed and just slumped down in one of the dingy chairs and started weeping. All of my frustrations over the past two years came pouring out of me. All of the guilt and shame that I had felt over the past year over what had been going on between Caroline and I, the pointless arguments between Clarissa and I and all of the emotional distance - it all came pouring out of me in that nasty motel room. The dreams of the future for my family and I living out in the country was now a distant memory. All of our plans lay in ruins. I had been grossly betrayed by the woman I loved and by a man that I had respected, admired and loved as a friend.
Sleep that night came in fits and was only aided with the purchase of a bottle of cheap wine downed in a plastic motel room cup. I didn't go overboard, but still drank nearly half the bottle that night. Not enough to get stupid drunk but it was at least enough to take the edge off.
I managed to crawl into the shower Sunday morning and make myself presentable. I took myself and all of my Catholic guilt to Mass at St Matthew's that morning. I guess I wanted to be somewhere that I felt safe, a place I could start to heal and begin looking for answers.
The overwhelming thought I had was what all of this was going to do to my sons. Their entire world was about to get ripped apart and they didn't even know it yet. I had no idea what was going to happen, whether either one of us would be able to keep the acreage. Bud didn't strike me as a hobby farmer or rancher but I had no idea what his ultimate plans were. I was pretty sure that they didn't involve me staying at the Sheriff's department. How could he? He had every intention of leaving his own wife after next year's election and subsequently marrying my own wife.
A plan was needed. I had to approach this in a methodical way. I had to start thinking like a cop and pursue all of this like a security officer investigation. I knew the who, the what and the where for the most part. I still wanted to know the how and the why of it all. How had they been hiding this and how did Bud plan to pull it all off? Why did Clarissa go along with it all and what was her ultimate motive?
I thought back to what Bud had said about Elmer Suggs. Elmer Suggs was an African American gentleman who lived primarily in Red River Falls. I say primarily because he was homeless and generally just existed in Red River Falls. Elmer was in his late 60's, or so I guessed, and we had had dealings with him numerous times over the years going all the way back to when I was still a member of Red River Falls PD. He was an extremely pleasant gentleman and had never once given me cause to get tough with him. He liked to smoke a little weed every now and then, which resulted in an occasional possession charge. He had also been caught trespassing and some misdemeanor breaking and entering in the past, almost all of which was so he could get in to some place warm in the winter time. Our local homeless shelter was small and could not house any one individual for more than a total of four months out of the year.
But summers are short in this part of the country and winters are long. How Elmer had been able to keep himself alive this long was anyone's guess. When I was still a member of Red River Falls PD, I once arrested Elmer for vagrancy (yes, it is still an actual crime) on a ridiculously cold winter night when the temperature had fallen to 35 degrees below zero with 35 to 40 mph wind gusts. At least I knew that Elmer would be safe and warm that night, get a hot meal or two and have a place to sleep.
Elmer wasn't mad at me for the arrest and even asked if he could keep the prison blanket and pillow that we gave him. I just made sure our head jailer Bryce Evans knew about it and gave the okay. The local magistrate never pressed the charges, at my request, so the arrest will never show up on his record.
I decided to get in my cruiser and drive around Red River Falls that Sunday afternoon. My drive took me to or past all of Elmer Suggs' usual haunts. About 5 o'clock that evening, I finally found Elmer downtown shuffling past the YMCA on Taylor street. I pulled my vehicle over and parked it.
"Hey, Elmer!" I shouted as I exited my vehicle. Elmer turned and looked at me as he kept on walking. I walked briskly to catch up to him. "Hey, Elmer! Wait up a second!"
Elmer stopped when he realized that I wasn't going away. "Afternoon, Sherf'," he replied meekly.
"It's okay, Elmer. You're not in trouble, I promise. I just want to talk to you for a little bit," I explained.
"Yeah, okay, i s'pose. Can we git some place warm?" he asked in his thick urban accent.
"Sure, Elmer. No problem." There was a small eatery, Otis' Diner, right across from the YMCA. The little greasy spoon had been in business for nearly 60 years. "Are you hungry, Elmer?"
"You know me, Sherf'. I's always got me an appetite," he said leading the way.
The diner was only about half full and Elmer and I got a booth that gave us a small amount of privacy. The waitress came by and I ordered a tall coffee while Elmer asked for a hot cup of cocoa. It was only about three degrees out today, which was unseasonably cold for mid November. So I would imagine the cocoa would taste and feel good to Elmer. The waitress returned shortly with our coffee and cocoa and was ready to take our order.
"Nothing for me, thanks, " I told our waitress.
"Ain't you gonna eat nothin', Sherf'?" Elmer asked.
"No, but that's fine, Elmer. Go ahead and get whatever you want."
Elmer just nodded his head and proceeded to order a bowl of chicken noodle soup, a breaded pork tenderloin, french fries and a large cola to wash it all down with. He politely asked if he could order dessert if he was still hungry and I told him "absolutely." The waitress took our order to the kitchen, leaving Elmer and I alone in our booth. After a minute or two of silence I decided to break the ice.
"Do you have any idea why I wanted to talk to you, Elmer?"
Elmer just nodded, avoiding any eye contact with me.
"And why is that, Elmer?"
Elmer thought for a bit before answering. "'Cuz you in some kinda trouble with Sherf Roberts."
I sat up straight in my booth. "Who told you that?"
"Sherf Roberts picked me up a while back, took me for a ride. Said you was in trouble fuh the way you treatin' me when you's arrested me dat time," he said softly. "Said you was in trouble fuh some other stuff, too, but he never say what. He tell me dat if I don't wanna be in trouble dat I gotta do what he say and say what he tell me to say." Elmer began
"Go on," I encouraged.
"Dat's about it," he said. "Just said he keep me outta trouble if I do what he say."
"Did he offer to do anything to try and help you, Elmer? Offer to get you a place to stay? Some money? Anything?"
"No," he replied dejectedly. "Nobody ever help me. Nobody help when I got kicked outta college. Nobody help me when I come home from da jungle. Only person ever try helpin' me was when you took me to jail to git me out the cold."
I couldn't help but smile a bit at that. Even though I arrested him, Elmer could still see that I only did it to help him and take care of him. Might not be the most ethical thing in the world to do, but it was the humane thing to do.
Elmer's food came and he ate in total silence for the next fifteen minutes. He savored every single bite. As I sat there I couldn't help but wonder how a man like that finds the will to wake up every morning. He had no family in the area that I knew of. The problem was that I wasn't sure I knew how to do something to help him without him thinking that I was only in it for me. If I was going to do anything it had to be something long-term.
Elmer finished eating and ordered a slice of apple pie and ice cream for desert along with another mug of cocoa. Before we left I ordered another sandwich and a bag of chips for Elmer to take with him. I could sense that Elmer was grateful for the meal and uncomfortable about being asked to throw me under the bus for Bud Roberts. But I also knew that he was afraid of going to jail for a long time, too, which Bud would undoubtedly try to coerce him with if he didn't play along. Even though he was homeless, Elmer still wouldn't trade his freedom for it.
I offered Elmer a ride to the shelter for the night, which he refused. He simply took the bagged food from the diner and left. All the way back to the hotel I kept thinking about him and what I could do. The poor guy hadn't gotten a fair shake in his whole life. Red River Falls was a town of about 30,000 people but there were only about 150 or 200 black people who lived in the entire city. That shouldn't mean anything but we all live in the real world and not fantasy. --well, except for Bud and Clarissa, apparently
Elmer was expelled from high college. He'd been homeless and in and out of jail for most of his adult life. Never gotten or asked for a handout the whole time, ever since he got back from the jungle he said. The jungle. The jungle? Of course! The jungle! Elmer was in his late 60s! That means he is exactly the right age to have served in Vietnam! If Elmer was a Vietnam Veteran there might be a TON of ways that I could help him. I made a mental note that night before I went to bed to make a phone call to the Mason County Veterans Affairs office first thing in the morning. If anyone could help Elmer, it would be Rosetta Dirksen at the VA office.
I called the boys that night feigning as though I was still in Minneapolis at the conference. It was obvious that Clarissa hadn't told them anything. They had a great weekend with their cousins, which I was extremely grateful for. I polished off the second half of the bottle of wine I had gotten the night before and drifted off to sleep with the thought of helping Elmer on my mind. Sleep came surprisingly easy.
I woke up with a splitting headache the next morning, which was odd since I hadn't the morning before. At any rate, I was on a mission to try and regain some control over my life. Helping Elmer Suggs was the first step on that journey. I arrived at the VA office right at 8:00 Monday morning. I caught Rosetta as she was arriving for work. She didn't have any appointments scheduled until 9:30 and I literally begged her to give me some time. When I told her it pertained to Elmer Suggs she ushered me in right away.
"I have been trying to find Elmer for years," Rosetta said. "I actually have an outstanding Disability Compensation and Pension claim for Elmer. He has finally been approved for his full benefits." The words were music to my ears.
"What kind of benefits does he qualify for?" I asked.
"Elmer is a Purple Heart recipient for one thing. Secondly, he has been approved for 100% disability rating for PTSD, Agent Orange exposure and multiple shrapnel injuries. The claim is over ten years old but he would at least receive back benefits for one year."
"Not to seem greedy or anything, " I prodded, "but how much would he get, exactly?"
"He's been rated for 100% disabled so he would qualify for about $3000 a month in disability pension. With a 12 month retroactive payment he would receive his first check for about $36,000. Plus, he qualifies for full medical benefits through the VA that will almost provide him with free healthcare for his service-connected issues and reduced expenses for everything else along with his Medicare benefits."
Holy Shit, I thought! All of this could set Elmer up for the rest of his life. He is a decorated Veteran and will have a definite income for the rest of his life! He would have no trouble being able to afford a place to stay and food to eat. Rosetta said that representatives of the VA and the American Legion would provide as much assistance as necessary to get Elmer off the streets and into a safe, comfortable environment.
I left Rosetta's office after almost an hour visiting with her. I was absolutely giddy. If I could facilitate all of this and pull it off it would at least take Elmer out of Bud's sphere of influence and into mine. Rosetta wanted me to try and get Elmer into her office yet today if I could find him.
I spent the next two hours trying to track him down, starting over at the YMCA where we had met up last night. I finally found him over at the Salvation Army's Adult Day Care Center, which he wasn't technically supposed to be at. But they were always generous enough to let him come in for free coffee and to warm up for a while.
I did just about everything short of kidnapping Elmer to get him to go with me. I got him to the VA office shortly before noon. Rosetta had called all of her afternoon appointments and rescheduled them. We spent the rest of the afternoon in her office arranging for all of his medical care, health benefits, setting up a bank account where he could receive his disability payments and finally arranging a very nice one-bedroom apartment for him to move into that would be ready at the end of the week. Rosetta also pulled some strings and arranged for a full series of medical exams at the VA hospital in Minneapolis that would also include dental and vision screenings and a full physical workup. He would need a ride to the VA hospital, which I was more than happy to offer.
We stayed with Elmer for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Rosetta arranged for Elmer to stay at the shelter for a few days until his new apartment was ready for him to move into. When I got back to my vehicle, I noticed I had missed several phone calls. All of them were from Bud Roberts. I figured I would give him a call and find out what the asshole wanted.
"You planning on coming into work again?"
"Depends. You gonna stop fucking my wife?"
"I'm warning you, Patrick. You've got a helluva lot more to lose in this than I do. You might not be able to save your marriage but you can at least save your job and ability to provide for your kids."
"There seem to be a lot of 'mights and maybes' with you, Bud. Right now I don't trust you any farther than I could kick you. You say I've got a lot to lose, Bud. But I've decided to approach this as though I've got NOTHING to lose. You've backed a dangerous animal into a corner. You might want to be careful, Bud."
I could hear him chuckle. "What do you think you have that I should be afraid of, Patrick?"
I smiled as I spoke. "I've got Elmer Suggs." And then I hung up the phone.
I spent the rest of the week doing what I could to help Elmer get squared away. The local group of Vietnam Veterans of America heard about Elmer and seriously took him under their wing. When they heard how long he had been homeless and without support they vowed to make sure that he was never without either again. It was amazing to see them rally around one of their own.
Thursday morning I picked up Elmer from the homeless shelter. He looked like an entirely new man. He was showered, shaved, had a fresh haircut and a completely new wardrobe that his fellow Vets had bought him. Elmer was just beaming for most of the ride over to Minneapolis. It had been years sine he had set foot outside of Red River Falls. He only had a few teeth left in his head and part of the plan was for him to get a complete set of dentures.
We spent Thursday afternoon and all Friday getting Elmer through his exams and appointments. I took some time for myself while I was back in Minneapolis and decided to hit up the Mall of America to pick up the presents for Nick and Jake that I had originally planned on getting while I was here for the conference. Elmer stayed overnight in a medical dormitory for out-of-town patients and I got a room for myself at a Best Western near the airport, which was also close to the VA hospital and clinics.
Saturday morning Elmer and I made the trip back to Red River Falls. Poor Elmer didn't say a whole lot as the dentist ended up removing the few remaining teeth he had. Soon he would have a brand new set of pearly white dentures and he was looking forward to flashing a full smile again for the first time in years.
I dropped Elmer off at his new apartment, which his fellow Vietnam Vets had finished preparing for him while we were gone. They really went all out for Elmer in getting him a decent bed, table and chairs for his kitchen, a small sofa, recliner, dresser and completely outfitting his kitchen with everything he could need. Some of the items were second hand but were probably still better than anything Elmer had seen in a long time. They also stocked his fridge for him while he was gone. A big group of Veterans and their wives were waiting for us when we got back.
Elmer invited everyone to stay and have coffee with him as his first official house guests. I stayed for a while and had a chance to visit for a bit with Rick Kraus, who was the commander of the local VFW and a fellow Vietnam Vet of Elmer's. I asked Rick to do me a favor and more or less help keep Elmer out of sight and mind for a while. Just until I could get some things squared away. Rick didn't ask me many questions or pry. He only said that there was a group of Vietnam Vets who were going to be participating in a ten day trip to Vietnam in a few weeks. Rick would do whatever he could to make sure that Elmer was on that trip.
As I was leaving Elmer's apartment I had just gotten out into the hallway when I hard him say, "Hey!"
"What's up, Elmer? Need something?" I asked.
Elmer struggled to find the words, especially since he still had a mouth full of gauze from removing the rest of his teeth. "I jus' wanna say thanks, Sherf. Nobody ever done for me what you's doin' fuh me right now."
"No, Elmer," I said. "Thank YOU. Thank you for your service to our country. And I'm sorry it took so long for me to finally figure it out."
Elmer just gave me another nod and went back in to rejoin his guests.
I spent Saturday night at the Skyline Drive Motel. Sunday morning I slept in late, went to late morning mass and treated myself to brunch at Perkins before heading back to the farm to feign as though I was just coming home from the conference.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

The boys were both ecstatic to finally see me after being gone for two weeks. Clarissa was absolutely shocked and looked as though she was going to soil herself when I burst in the front door and shouted, "I'm home!"

I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening with Clarissa and the boys, trying to act as normal as possible for them. It was clear that Clarissa hadn't explained to them what was going on and for now, it was probably the best. The boys and I spent time assembling the Lego building sets that I had bought for them. They both love Star Wars so I bought Nick a giant Lego Millennium Falcon and I got Jake the Lego Death Star. Both items came with almost 3000 pieces. Assembling the Millennium Falcon alone took us right up until the boys' bed time. The other toy would have to wait until another night to get put together.
I waited until the boys were asleep before leaving. As I was getting ready to leave Clarissa approached me wanting to talk.
"So," she began, "how is this going to work? We can't go on like this forever, Patrick."
"It is going to be like this until I decide it isn't, Clarissa."
"Dammit, Patrick! You know Bud will never accept this and neither will I. You have to think about the boys, Hell, you have to think about yourself and what Bud is capable of."
I grabbed my coat and headed out the door. Before I left I turned once more to Clarissa. "I think, Clarissa, that maybe you better reconsider what you THINK Bud is capable of and focus more on what I know that I am capable of." And I walked out the door.
I showed up at work the next morning precisely at 8:00 am. No one paid much attention to me and I simply made a beeline to my office where my secretary Shirley Cunningham had managed to accumulate a nice pile of paperwork for me to go through while I had been gone. I could quickly tell that this was going to be the part of the job I would hate immensely.
About 10:00 I was summoned into Bud Roberts' office. Sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk was the Mason County Attorney, Marion Lawson. I had seen him plenty over the years but had never been introduced to him personally. My "spidey sense" immediately kicked into high gear.
"Patrick, this is our County Attorney, Marion Lawson. Marion, this is my new Captain and Chief Deputy, Pat Quinn."
Marion rose from his seat. "Pat, it is quite an honor. We are all proud of you beyond words. You are quite the hero." I blushed at the compliment. Marion returned to his seat.
Bud glared at me as he continued on, with a goofy smirk on his face. Marion had the same smirk. All of a sudden, his compliment didn't seem so genuine. "Marion will be working pretty closely with you at times and I thought you two should get acquainted. Oh, if you'll excuse me, I gotta run a quick errand. I'll be back in a sec."
I stood there sheepishly while Marion eyeballed me from his seat. "You know, Patrick," he said with that goofy smirk, "I had the pleasure of getting to know your wife a while back. Bud introduced us during a trails committee meeting." My eyes narrowed as he spoke. "Your wife is an incredibly beautiful woman. You've got quite a handful there. Mmm-hmm. You're a lucky man, Patrick. Yes, sir. A lucky man, indeed!"
"Why are you speaking to me about my wife like that, sir?"
Now Marion sported a full shit-eating grin. "Let's just say, Patrick, that it has been a real pleasure getting to know your wife." The way he had said 'pleasure' told me all I needed to know. So Bud Roberts was sharing my wife with the county attorney. I could feel the blood boiling in my veins. I desperately wanted to gut this man like a fucking deer right now. No sooner had that thought entered my mind than Bud reappeared in the office.
"Did I miss anything exciting while I was gone?" Bud and Marion shared a knowing look and smile. "Uh, that'll be all Patrick. You can return to your desk now," he said as though he had just finished scolding a child. I balled my fists in the most intense anger I had experienced since finding out about the affair. All I could do was just turn and make a beeline for my desk. This was not the place for a confrontation.
I sat and seethed to myself in my office for the rest of the day. Every time I felt like I was getting a handle on this whole situation Bud or Clarissa would do or say something that seemed to set me back. The affair was one thing as long as it stayed between me, Bud and Clarissa. But now there was an outsider involved, Marion Lawson. Clarissa had gone from refusing me sex to having an affair with Bud and was now apparently turning into a whore for Bud and his close friends. Emotionally I was being destroyed one salvo at a time.
I made a beeline back to the farm after work and spent the evening with the boys again. I could tell that Clarissa desperately wanted to get the hell out of there while I was in the house but even she could see how happy the boys were to spend time with me. She spent most of her time in our bedroom watching TV while the boys and I hung out downstairs. I stayed until the boys went to bed and, again, Clarissa wanted to talk before I left.
"Patrick, we need to talk. Please quit ignoring me."
"I'm not ignoring you, Clare. What is it that you think we need to discuss?"
"We need to figure this out. We can't keep confusing the boys like this. They are old enough to understand what is going on."
"Oh, really?" I asked sarcastically. "So does that mean that you want to explain to them how their own mother betrayed their father by fucking their father's boss for the past two years and is now planning on leaving their father so she can eventually divorce his ass and marry the man she started fucking?"
"Dammit, Patrick! You know what I'm talking about!"
"Oh, oh, oh, I see," I said. "You want them to know what YOU want them to know which is sugar coating and just leaving out all the parts that make you look like a bitch, a whore and a slut."
"Calling me names isn't getting us anywhere, Patrick. Communication will, however."
I let out a frustrated sigh. "Why? Why would you do this to me? How could you do this to our family? What is it about me that made you lose any and all respect for me?"
Clarissa thought for a few moments before answering. "It wasn't about a lack of respect for you. I just fell in love with the power that Bud has. Men respect him. Some people are afraid of him. He would rather be Sheriff than a county supervisor or the mayor of Red River Falls. He has a lot of reach, a lot of influence. He got me my committee position on the trails committee, got me in touch with a lot of movers and shakers. People respect him. And because of him, people are starting to notice me and respect me, too. I couldn't help that I was attracted to that."
"And the whole low testosterone thing was just a ruse to get me to back off sexually so you could save yourself for your lover?"
"No, Patrick. I swear. The condition is very real. Doctor Kiesler prescribed me the cream about the same time I started seeing Bud."
"So, once again, you're willing to do for him what you wouldn't do for me. Nice," I said as I turned to go.
"What about the boys, Patrick? What about this? You can't just keep barging in here every night!"
I walked up to her and looked her straight in the eye. "This is still my house. I will come and go from this house as I damned well please! And I will still be here every night after work and will stay until the boys go to bed. That part is not negotiable, is that clear?"
"Bud is not gonna like this, Patrick. We need to work out a little more separation. The boys aren't going to adjust to this if you won't cooperate!"
"This is gonna continue as-is until I decide otherwise. And fuck Bud and whatever he wants. If he doesn't like it he can kiss my ass. I'll be home tomorrow after work as usual. The rest of the week looks to be about the same!" I slammed the door a little too loudly as I left and hoped the boys didn't wake up. That is, if they were even asleep in the first place.
I dragged my ass into work the next morning and did my best to avoid Bud at all costs. But just after lunch something happened that would change everything and ultimately become a turning point in my life. About 1:30 in the afternoon Bud poked his head in my office and told me to follow him. He seemed genuinely concerned and in a professional way.
"We've got a situation, Patrick," he said as we entered his office. "Red River Falls PD is on the scene of a stand-off at 1830 North McKinley Avenue. A 27 year old male is holed up in his home with his 5 year old daughter. Apparently, he was babysitting his daughter while the mother was at work. The couple is ex-boyfriend and girlfriend and the male involved has been trying to win back the ex-girlfriend. Apparently things have been getting worse and not better and today he snapped and barricaded himself in the house with the little girl. No one has had any contact with anyone in the house for over 30 minutes but PD has reason to believe that both subjects are still in the house and probably still alive."
"Has the SOG (Special Operations Group) team been activated?" I asked.
"Yeah, that's why I called you in here. You were a member of the team as a Deputy. As Chief Deputy you now have tactical command of the team."
"Uh, Bud," I said, "I know our standard tactics and stuff but I've never served as tactical command before."
"I'm aware of that," he replied. "But I need you to do this because if you don't, it will just be an excuse for the PD and Chief Banks to try and take over control of the team."
So, this was a power play, I thought. Bud was going to send me in because he had to and because who ever was in control of the team also controlled the budget. The county and each municipality contributed quite a bit of money to operate the SOG team.
"You have fifteen minutes to get your gear and get down to the scene. The armored vehicles are already on their way and all of the team members have been paged."
"Okay," I said. "I'm on my way." And I turned to leave.
"Just one more thing, Pat," he said walking up to me eye-to-eye. "In case the thought is crossing your mind about how you can blow this operation just to embarrass me in order to get back at me for everything else going on in our lives, don't. If you screw this up, so help me God, I will BURY you for it. You will be finished immediately. You got me?
I chuckled. "As bad as I wanna screw you over, Bud, I'm not going to gamble with the life of a little girl to do it. I'm gonna get that little girl out of there and I'm going to take down her asshole father and I'm going to smile nice and big for the cameras when it is all over with and take all the credit." Bud's jaw just about dropped when I said that last statement but I took off out the door before he could finish.
I quickly changed into my tactical uniform and grabbed my bag of gear. My weapons of choice for S.W.A.T. operations such as this were my Beretta 9mm, my Mossberg tactical shotgun and a Hoeckler and Koch MP5 9mm assault weapon. I preferred the MP5 for the close-quarters fighting rather than my AR-15.
The command center was established one block south and one block west of the target house. Officers were stationed to provide eyes on the house from all sides and angles to ensure nobody entered or left the premises.
Pete Sturgeon, a captain with RRFPD, was waiting at the command center along with the Chief of security officer, Clayton Banks. In total, all of the area homes were evacuated in a nine block area centered on the target house. Fifteen officers from the PD, as well as eight additional deputies and five State Troopers, were currently staffing the perimeter. A total of six additional officers besides me and Pete Sturgeon had responded for tactical ops, three deputies and three city officers.
We had two refurbished Vietnam-era Dodge Power Wagons that had been converted to armored vehicles with half-inch steel plating replacing the body panels. We also had a variety of technical gadgetry in addition to our weapons. Powerful speakers and amplifiers were at our disposal for psychological effects or in case we need a diversion.
"No luck getting anyone on the phone?" I asked Pete as I arrived at the command center.
"No. We're tried repeatedly but no such luck."
"Any signs of activity at all?"
"Nope. Not even so much as peeking out the curtains."
"Okay. Let's get started, then," I said looking at a computer laptop with a map of the area.
"Actually, Pat," Pete Sturgeon started, "I know that this is the first special ops event since you became captain. Chief Banks and I were thinking maybe I should take the lead on this one."
"Well, Pete, I'm not going to start a turf war. I have my instructions from the Sheriff and he wants this event handled within the confines of the agreement," I informed them. The agreement was a "28E" agreement between the county and the city of Red River Falls establishing the tactical team. The agreement stated that the Sheriff's department had overall authority regarding the team, its activation and operations involving the team.
"Now look, Pat, I - " I cut him off.
"Pete, Chief, I'm not gonna get into this. This is how Bud wants it handled. If the Chief wants to butt heads with Bud over this, that's fine. I'm not gonna do it. Now let's figure out how we're gonna get this little girl back. We need to start gathering intel on the house. What do we know?"
Sturgeon and Chief Banks looked at each other and realized they weren't going to win. They both knew that the last thing they wanted was the wrath of Sheriff Bud Roberts breathing down their necks. It was probably the only good thing from Bud that I had in my favor right now.
Pete sighed. "Well, we don't really know much right now. According to the girlfriend, she left the daughter in the home with the boyfriend while she went to work. Actually," he corrected himself, "they are ex-boyfriend and girlfriend."
"Go on," I said.
"Apparently there was some altercation between them after she dropped the daughter off this morning before she went to work. She became concerned, called the boyfriend, another verbal altercation occurred over the phone and the boyfriend threatened to harm himself and the little girl. The girlfriend returned to the address and found that all of the doors and windows had been barricaded. She could still hear the TV playing but no one would answer the phone or come to the door. We're playing this like a standoff since all of the doors and windows have been secured from the inside."
Well, the first thing that I needed was a look inside the premises. After trying to make phone contact once myself, I decided that my first tactical decision was going to be to plant optics to try and get a look inside the house itself. I requested that the city engineer bring me any specs and renderings of the layout of the interior of the house.
The house itself was a single-story two-bedroom bungalow that was built in the late 40's. It had an open front porch that led to the living room as you walked in the front door and to the right. To the left inside the front door was a small formal dining room and a single hallway led to the rear of the home. A bedroom, bathroom and second bedroom were on the right of the hallway and the kitchen took up the remainder of the left side of the home as you entered. All-in-all, the house had a fairly simple floor plan that shouldn't take too much effort to wire for sound and video.
The tools we would use for this were a series of small fiber optic cables that would be introduced into the home via high-speed drills. We would need no more than a 1/8 inch drill bit to introduce the cables. The cables would then give us an eighty degree view of any room we introduced them into. The video feed was not broadcast quality, to be sure, but was more than adequate for our purposes. Hopefully, it would give us a solid fix on the location of the little girl and her father and identify whether they were even alive and well since no one had spoken to them for over two hours.
In order to place the cables, I would need an effective diversion. I ordered my three deputies on the SOG team - Danny Larson, Chris Hayes and Alex Landau - to take control of the drills and place the cables. One of the security officer officers on the team, Kirk Hofeldt, would take charge of connecting the cables to a multi-splitter, which would then feed the video to our command center. Everyone would need to work fast but in our training exercises these men had previously been able to cable a similar sized house in under two minutes.
The diversion would come in the form of high intensity sound being blasted from the speakers of the armored tactical vehicles. The speakers on the vehicles could blast sound or music as high as 150 decibels, which was just shy of waking the dead. At a distance of 100 meters, a jet engine only tops out around 140 decibels.
I assigned two other SOG team members, Michael Garcia and Dick Lobeck, from the PD, to handle driving the armored vehicles. My plan was for them to literally drive the vehicles up to the front porch and then immediately start blasting the house with sound waves in an attempt to draw the perp toward the front of the house. The sound would be more than adequate to drown out the sound of the drilling while the other team members were engaged in cabling the house. Hopefully the overwhelming sound would be enough to draw the subject towards the front of the house to see what was going on, probably expecting a breech.
The subject was one Colton Allen Rigby, age 25. His ex-girlfriend and baby mama was Cheyenne Marie Teasdale, age 23. The daughter was five year old Amber Leanne Rigby.
Pete Sturgeon voiced concerns about my plan, saying that he was worried a fake breech could lead to an all-out fight with Rigby. I countered by saying that a fake breech at this point would give us the intel we need as well as lull Rigby into a sense of complacency as he would not be expecting a real breech if the situation eventually deteriorated to that point. I was nervous because it seemed as though some of the other team members were latching on to Pete's concerns. I didn't want an all-out mutiny on my hands at this point. I was annoyed with the fact that Bud wasn't here to keep Chief Banks in line and back me up in case Sturgeon really got in my way. But I also couldn't guarantee that Bud would actually do that, regardless. So it was John Wayne time for me and I needed to act fast and deliberately to keep the team in my corner and keep Pete Sturgeon off my ass.
I placed Pete at the command post so he could monitor the computer and notify me when the cameras were up and running. The armored vehicle was in place and the speakers and sound system were operating on standby. The placement team was ready and everyone had radioed in their status. We were all "go" for the mission. I gave the order to execute.
The big power wagons screeched as they took off from their positions and charged down from opposite ends of the street. The placement team was in position at the rear of the adjacent house. The armored vehicles were equipped with a dazzling array of emergency flashers which came on simultaneously. The vehicles stopped with their noses literally touching the front porch steps and the sound systems blasted to life with 150 decibels of fury with a high-pitched continuous sound pulse designed to disorient a subject.
Immediately I spotted the front window curtain pull to the side slightly from behind whatever was blocking it. The armored vehicles and the intense sound was having its effect. The cable team was doing their job and finished right about the one-minute and forty-five second mark. The team retreated and I called back the armored vehicles. As suddenly as it had started, the neighborhood was quiet again.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

I quickly jogged the 50 meters back to the command post where Pete Sturgeon confirmed that we had video streaming from all six fiber optic cameras. The cables had been placed perfectly.

Within a minute of my arrival back at the command post, the phone I had used to try and call Colton Rigby earlier was now ringing off the hook. I picked up the receiver.
"Hey! Who the fuck is this?" Colton shouted into the phone.
"This is Chief Deputy Quinn, Mason County Sheriff's Department. Who am I speaking with?"
"Don't even pretend like you don't know who the fuck this is, asshole! What the fuck was that bullshit all about, huh? You're scaring the shit out of my little girl, you fucking prick!"
"Please calm down, Mr. Rigby. That event was an effort to try and ascertain if there was anyone in the residence."
"Well, I'm home, mother fucker! What the fuck do you want?"
"We tried calling you numerous times, Mr. Rigby. That is why we needed to determine if anyone was in the residence. As far as what we want, we want to have assurances that your daughter Amber is okay and unharmed." I tried to remain as calm as possible. Any agitation on my part would only add to his.
"She's fine, bitch! As long as you fucking pigs don't try pullin' any shit!" A threat, and one to be taken seriously.
"Why are you barricading yourself in your home, Mr. Rigby?" I wasn't there to negotiate but I needed to know what his objectives were.
"I just don't wanna be fuckin' bothered, dude! I want you fucks to disappear and leave me alone!"
"I'm afraid we are past that point, Mr. Rigby. Ms. Teasdale has indicated that you may want to harm yourself or your daughter."
"That fuckin' skank doesn't know what the fuck I want. I'll tell you what I want! I want you to leave us the fuck alone! I want that stupid bitch to drag her nasty whoring ass over to this house so I can talk to her face-to-face and get some shit straight! You got that, Kojak?" This fucking guy was starting to annoy me.
"I can't send Cheyenne to talk to you if I think you may hurt her, Mr. Rigby."
"Yo, bitch! You listening to me? I said I want that fuckin' ho on my front porch within the next 30 minutes or shit's gonna go bad. And fast! Get her nasty ass here right-the-fuck now!" He was clearly becoming more agitated. His mental state was worse than I thought.
"I'll see what I can do, Mr. Rigby. But I need your assurance that you won't harm yourself or your little girl."
"I ain't givin' you shit, pig! You do what the fuck I tell you to do, got it? And right now I'm telling you to get that fucking cunt over to my house, like five fucking minutes ago, asshole!" The phone line went dead.
I walked away from the command center to the staging area, which was located one block over from our position. There I found the frightened and distraught Cheyenne Teasdale being attended to by an ambulance crew from the Red River Falls Fire Department.
"Ms. Teasdale?" I asked.
"Yes?" Her eyes were red and swollen. She was an attractive young lady. Thin and slightly built with short bobbed blonde hair and blue eyes. And plenty of tattoos and piercings, as well.
"Ms. Teasdale, my name is Chief Deputy Quinn. I'm leading the response to this incident and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions."
"I'll do anything if it will help get my daughter back."
Cheyenne answered all of my questions with great detail. She and Colton were high college sweethearts and she had gotten pregnant when she was 17. Neither of them came from the greatest of homes. But where as Cheyenne had actually tried to make the best of a bad situation, Colton had hit rock bottom and started to dig. Eventually, their relationship ended when Colton became increasingly more controlling and started getting violent with her. Verbally, at first, but it progressed to an occasional slap and back hand after a while. Recently, things had taken a dramatic turn for the worst when Colton had been arrested for possession of methamphetamine, the scourge of Red River Falls. Cheyenne stated that she was going to be petitioning the court for a reduction in his parental visitation rights. I asked her why she dropped her daughter off at his house today if she was going to be further cutting back his visitation rights. The answer? He doesn't work and her regular daycare lady was sick today and her daughter only goes to pre-college three days per week. Basically, she was in a jam. Somehow, Colton was informed today by a friend that he could expect to see his daughter less, which would loosen his grip on and ability to control his ex. Cheyenne also confirmed for me what I didn't want to hear - that Colton most likely had firearms present in his home. Some had been confiscated when he got arrested, but she was pretty sure he had others.
"Please, Mr. Quinn. Please get my daughter back! Don't let that son of a bitch hurt her! I'm begging you! Please promise me you'll do for my little girl like you did for that other little girl."
"I promise you, Ms. Teasdale. I'm going to bring your daughter back safe and sound. I promise!" As I walked back to the command post, I wondered if people were starting to build me up into something I'm not. I tried to shake that thought, as well as all of the other crap in my life, out of my head for the mean time. I had to focus on getting the little girl back.
When I got back to the command post, I sensed that Pete Sturgeon and Chief Banks had been scheming while I was gone.
"Pat, can I have a word with you?" Pete asked, motioning me to walk with him. We walked about 15 or 20 feet from the command post. "
"What's on your mind, Pete?"
"Pat, I think you need to let me take command on this."
"Why do I need to do that?"
He paused for a moment. "I think you're too new in your position to lead these guys into a situation as tense as this one. I think you need to let a cooler head prevail."
I looked around for a moment and saw the rest of the team members watching our conversation. I didn't know if they could hear us or not and I didn't particularly care.
"Look, Pete," I said, "the first part has gone well so far. We have the house cabled and we've made contact. We've established that the little girl is unharmed. I've taken the lead on that so far and I think we've done alright. Now, I need your support and your head in the game if we have to make a breech, Pete."
"My head IS in the game, Pat."
"No, it isn't Pete. Not if you're constantly trying to think about how to take command from me. Now let's get back there and go over a plan on how to get that little girl back." I didn't wait for a response and just walked back to the command post.
When I got back to the post, the phone was ringing.
"Captain Quinn," I answered.
"Where is that fucking skank?"
"Mr Rigby, it has only been fifteen minutes since we spoke. Ms Teasdale is quite upset right now, as you might imagine." If he was calling this early it was because he was becoming more agitated and desperate.
"I don't give a fuck, pig! I want that fucking cunt on my doorstep in the next five minutes or else!"
"Or else what, Mr Rigby?"
His voice grew softer but very cold. "Or else you don't want to fucking know, pig."
"I'm going to have to go back and talk to her again, Mr Rigby and try and convince her to come see you. I need you to give me the full thirty minutes."
Silence for almost 30 seconds. "Fine. You have another fifteen minutes, dick. And not one fucking second more. If Cheyenne ain't in front of me by then, you're gonna need a coroner." A chill ran down my spine as he spoke those last words.
"Get the team assembled," I said to Pete Sturgeon. "We're going for a full breech."
"Now hold on a second, Pat. What did he say?"
"He wants her there in fifteen minutes or he'll kill the child. And probably himself."
"Whoa, now," Chief Banks said. "Did he actually say that or what?"
I sighed in frustration. "He said if she wasn't there in fifteen minutes we would need a coroner. He made a threat and now we are going to act on it." The rest of the team was assembling on me now.
"Pat, can I have a word with you?" Pete asked.
"You can ask or say whatever you want in the next 30 seconds and then I'm going to brief everyone on my breech plan."
"I really think you need to let me take lead on this, Pat."
"And I really think you need to shut up and do your fucking job, Pete."
"Pat, I'm trying real hard to take the high road here. I -" I cut him off.
"Fuck it," I said. "You're off the breech team. If I can't trust you to do your fucking job then you can stay here and man the radio, then. Hey, Brian!" I yelled to Brian Keller, one of our deputies and the most recent addition to the SOG team. He wasn't on SWAT duty today but rather in his regular uniform and helping to man the perimeter.
"Yeah, boss?" he asked, running from his position.
"Brian, I need you to man the video feed from the target house. I need to know where the adult male and the little girl are at all times. We got six cameras set up on the house for each of the rooms we need to monitor."
"I got it, boss! No problem," he said, enthusiastically. Brian put on his headset connecting him with our commo and sat down in the chair at the computer with the video feeds. Now I had someone to give me the intel I would need who I could trust.
Pete was pissed and frustrated. He looked over at his boss, Chief Banks, for support but got none. Neither of them could possibly know how shitty things were between me and Bud right now and I needed to use that to my advantage. As pissed as they both probably were at me right now, neither of them would be willing to incur the wrath of Sheriff Bud Roberts. At least I had that going for me.
I gave a very brief overview of my plan. The two armored vehicles would approach the target house from opposite ends of the street on my signal. They would come screaming in lights and sirens and damned near park right on the front porch of the house. Entry charges would most likely be used on the back door of the house to force our entry. The conical-shaped charges would blast the wooden rear door of the house, and anything barricading it, outward and lessening the chance of injuring anyone on the inside, especially the little girl.
The two armored vehicle drivers got in their rigs and drove off to their assigned positions. The entry team consisted of me and four other men. The breech team was two men stationed on either side of the rear porch steps who would apply and detonate the entry charges and then immediately fire two flash bangs down the hallway and into the living room, provided that Rigby was in that location. Once the breech had been forced, the entry team and I would burst in like a freight train, clear the building, take Rigby into custody and rescue the little girl.
We moved in a single line, weapons at the ready. The formation is called a "stack" and is the way we enter a building on a breech. I was in the lead of the stack, followed by four other men. Danny Larson was the last man in the stack and provided our rear security. We formed up near one of the adjacent houses and out of sight of the target house. I needed an update on the situation.
"Video, this is breech. What do you see, Brian?"
"Breech, Video. Suspect is still in the front room. He is now holding something. Standby..." About 5 seconds later Brian got back on the channel. "Breech, be advised that the suspect in the front room is holding an object that appears to be a sawed off shotgun!"
Shit! We waited too long humoring his bullshit and now he's had time to get a weapon in his hands.
"Good copy! All team members, this is Quinn. Standby for immediate breech on my signal." I slowly counted backwards from ten to zero. It was as much to calm myself as it was for the men on my team to get themselves ready. "Video, where is the little girl?"
"Breech, the little girl is still in the closet in the first bedroom to your left as you enter from the rear of the house." I would need to see that Brian gets some kind of special recognition for this. He was doing exceptionally well for something he hadn't been trained for.
"Initiating breech! APC 1 and APC 2, go, go, go!" I could hear the squeal of tires as the two heavy armored vehicles made their run toward the house. The air suddenly filled with the deafening sound of sirens and other electronic noise jettisoned from the speakers on the armored vehicles.
"Set the charges now, now, now!" The two SOG team members at the rear of the house slammed their cone-shaped charges into the wooden storm door and immediately retreated to the side of the house to get out of the way of the blast. When I could sense that the armored vehicles reached the front door of the house, I yelled into my mic, "Blow the doors, now, now, now!"
The concussion from the entry charges nearly tried to steal the air from our lungs and the back door of the house, as well as the remnants of an old oak table, disintegrated into splinters that showered the backyard garden with debris. The two SOG team members then pulled the pins on four flash bang grenades and threw them down the length of the interior hallway leading to the front of the house.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The blasts and concussion were so loud that it blew out nearly every window in the front half of the house. My team and I immediately stormed the house from the rear entry. I held my MP5 straight out in front of me as we charged slowly but methodically through the bluish haze of smoke from the flash bangs. I made my way to the front living room and dining room where I saw an obviously disoriented male on his hands and knees on the floor. The male subject looked up at me and immediately tried to make a grab for the unmistakable form of a sawed-off shotgun about 3 or 4 feet away. The concussion of the flash bangs must have made him drop the weapon.
"security officer!" I yelled. "Get down on the floor, now, now, now!"
I didn't want to kill this man if I didn't have to. In the split second that I realized what he was groping for I somehow had the presence of mind to grab my yellow X26C Taser gun from the holster on my right leg. I drew down on him in one smooth motion and fired the two metal barbs from the non-lethal weapon, one of which imbedded itself into his left shoulder and the other grabbed into the left side of his neck. The 1,200-volt shocks from the taser pulsed in 19 times per second, which elicited a shrill and blood-curdling scream from Rigby, causing him to go rigid as a baseball bat and then flop face-down on the living room floor.
I immediately pounced on Rigby, driving my knee into the back of his neck and keeping him pinned down. The second officer to enter the house behind me was State Trooper Ken Flatness who immediately brought Rigby's hands behind his back and began cuffing him.
From behind us I heard three men yell out, "Clear!" They signaled that the rest of the house was free of any other armed subjects. Danny Larson had been the last to enter the house and found the little girl hiding in the closet in her bedroom, crying profusely, with her hands tight to her ears. She was frightened beyond belief and our appearance didn't help. We were dressed from head-to-toe in all black clothing with black helmets, goggles, black balaclavas (a ski-mask looking hood to subdue our identity), black ballistic vests, black knee and elbow pads, black military-style shirts and pants and black combat boots. Oh, and we were all armed to the teeth with pistols, tasers and assault weapons.
Ken Flatness and I immediately patted down Rigby to make sure he wasn't carrying any other weapons. Rigby was still dazed from being tasered and Ken complimented me for my restraint and not shooting the little bastard.
Another officer secured Rigby's sawed-off shotgun and emptied the chamber and magazine. The weapon had indeed been loaded with heavy buck shot, which was nearly my second close encounter with the deadly ammo this year. Needless to say, I had a healthy respect for the weapon.
I keyed the mic on my headset and spoke. "All personnel, all personnel, this is Chief Deputy Quinn. Be advised that the building is secure. Suspect is in custody."
I heard acknowledgement from everyone on the radio channels and the blaring of the sirens and noise from the armored vehicles immediately stopped.
We did a precursory and quick search of the premises to ensure there were no other booby traps or other surprises and were glad to find none. We stood Rigby up to see if he was finally regaining his composure. As we did so, we could see that Rigby had pissed himself from being tasered.
I informed Brian Keller that we were making an egress from the building and heading back to the command post and requested that paramedics meet us there to check over Rigby and remove the barbs from the taser. Before we left the house I went over to Danny Larson and retrieved the little girl, Amber, who had stopped crying but was obviously still terrified. I took off my helmet and balaclava and handed them to Danny and slung my MP5 across my back.
"Hi, there," I said, doing my best to be congenial. "My name is Patrick. What's your name?"
"Amber," she said between sniffles.
"How would you like me to take you to see your mommy, Amber?" She just nodded and grabbed onto my neck for all she was worth and put her head down on my shoulder.
We exited the front of the house after removing the oaken china hutch that had been blocking it previously. I couldn't help but feel extremely triumphant as I carried my little hostage victim back to her waiting mother. Shameful, I know, but I needed a victory after everything I had been through. It had been my first experience in command of a hostage rescue situation and it had gone off without a hitch, except for Pete Sturgeon's bitching. I knew that all of the news cameras and reporters would be waiting at the staging area and I knew they would all be capturing pictures and video of me. It was an opportunity for me to have the experience of reuniting a mother and daughter, but it was also a chance for me to really shove it up Sheriff Bud Roberts' ass. Same thing for Pete Sturgeon and Chief Banks.
As we approached the command post, Brian Keller got up and shook my hand and said, "Great job, boss!"
"Great job your self, Brian! Couldn't have done it without you!" which was absolutely true. Pete Sturgeon and Chief Banks just looked at me with complete and total envy, jealousy and rage as we walked on by. I couldn't help but wear a half-smile, half-smirk. I needed this. I really did.
As we rounded the corner and approached the staging area, the crowd literally erupted in cheering. Little Amber lifted her head up as soon as she heard it.
"Why are they yelling like that?" she asked.
"Because they are cheering," I replied. "They're cheering for you because you're the bravest little girl they've ever seen!" My comment elicited a smile from her.
We got close to the security officer barricade and the officers in charge let Cheyenne Teasdale come running to her daughter. I handed Amber to her mother who took her and fell to the street clutching her and crying hysterically. After a few minutes, I helped her stand up and guided her back to the staging area where paramedics were waiting to look her over and make sure she was okay.
Cheyenne hugged me like she was never going to let me go and thanked me profusely. I could hear the clicking of dozens of cameras and numerous reporters were shouting at me and wanting me to come speak to them. I told them that a press conference would eventually be scheduled to go over the details and that I was unable to answer any questions at this time.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

I turned around and started walking away when someone caught my eye. I looked over at the edge of the security officer line and saw a beautiful young woman in blue medical scrubs standing there. It was Shannon Sullivan. She had a huge smile on her face and slowly shook her head as I approached her.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," I said, beaming from ear to ear.
"And aren't you just the knight in shining armor," she replied.
"What on earth brought you down here?" I asked.
"I knew that you would be in on this as soon as I heard it on the news. I worked an extra shift today and got off work at three. I only live a few blocks from here. Plus, I wanted to see you succeed and see you in your moment of triumph. And so, here I am!"
Wow, I thought. Someone who actually believed in me. What I wouldn't give -- no, I put that thought out of my mind. If only my wife saw me the way Shannon did. We spoke for a few more minutes and then I could sense that some of the TV cameras and newspaper photographers were staring at us and beginning to take pictures. I knew exactly what they would do next, which was to tie me in with Shannon and tie Shannon in with this standoff.
"I would love to chat longer, but I've still got a mountain of paperwork to go through and I'll probably be here most of the night."
"I totally understand," she said. "Congratulations on a job well done, Patrick! You'll always be my hero," she said tenderly with that amazing smile of hers. I reached out and took her hand and squeezed it, smiled and then turned to go. I didn't want to. I would easily spend the rest of the night talking to Shannon, but I couldn't.
Back at the command post Colton Rigby was getting frisked and shook down one final time before being hauled off to jail. Brian Keller asked for and received the honor of giving Rigby a ride to the county jail and getting him booked in. Before he left, though, Rigby had a few choice words for me.
"You didn't have to fuckin' taze me, asshole!"
"You were reaching for a loaded shotgun," I replied calmly. "You're lucky you didn't get shot a dozen times."
"Yeah? I'm gonna beat the rap on whatever charge you throw against me, pig! And when I'm out, I'm gonna come lookin' for you and get me an evil on your ass, bitch!"
"Whatever charge? Jesus, Colton. You make it sound like you're only going to get charged with one! If you're gonna come after me, you gotta beat all of 'em. And that includes the federal charges! Right now you're looking at a MINIMUM of twenty years, dude!"
"Bullshit! I know how it goes. You're gonna try to get me to roll and I'll only do maybe three to five at the most."
"You make a shitty jailhouse lawyer, Colton. You're forgetting one thing -- there's no parole allowed in the federal system. If the judge gives you twenty years, you're going to serve every last day. And truthfully? You offer us absolutely nothing as an incentive to reduce your charges in the least bit. I know Lane Danielson, the US Attorney for this area. He has a 97% conviction rate. You will be absolutely no challenge for him to put away. Your daughter will damned near be old enough to be a grandmother by the time your ass gets out of prison."
The smirk Colton had been wearing while he was talking tough to me disappeared. The look of street-tough determination was replaced with a look of fear as Brian Kelly shoved Rigby in the back of his cruiser. I distinctly remember seeing a tear stream down his face as the cruiser pulled away and headed for the county jail.
I couldn't really concentrate on my duties the rest of the night. I wasn't sure what I was feeling most -- an adrenaline high from an incredibly successful rescue, or the high that I felt from seeing and talking to Shannon.
I didn't get off the crime scene until almost midnight. As much as I wanted to go home and see my boys, they would have been in bed for hours at that point. Instead, we turned over official control of the scene to the state Bureau of Criminal Investigation and I called it a night. Even the drive back to my rat's nest of a motel didn't bother me and I didn't need a drop of alcohol to fall into a deep and dream-filled sleep. I didn't dream of crack houses, meth heads or any other scum. Instead, I dreamed of Shannon.
The next morning I arrived for work fashionably late, strolling into my office around 10:30 or so. Bud was waiting outside his office as I strolled in.
"Jesus," he said. "I was beginning to wonder if you were ever gonna show up at all."
"I figured I earned a little comp time from yesterday," I replied.
"Don't get cocky, Patrick. And don't get too liberal with the comp time, either. You're still expected to put in a full day like the rest of us," he snorted.
"Oh, oh, oh. I see. Kind of like the full day you put in yesterday at the hostage standoff. Yeah, right. If I didn't know better, I'd think that Chief Banks and ol' Pete Sturgeon genuinely missed you yesterday. Your absence was decidedly noticed!"
Bud's voice lowered considerably. "I'm warning you, Patrick," he growled. "Don't fuck with me!"
"Or what?" I dared.
"Or you know exactly what!" he hissed. "This can still end really, really, really bad for you Patrick. You may not be Chief Deputy for as long as you think. You're still just a little junk yard dog on a chain and I'll yank that fucking chain and strangle you with it!"
I looked around the office. Fortunately, none of the deputies or other office personnel seemed to notice our little side bar conversation.
"Oh, yeah, Bud? Just exactly what do you think you're gonna do, anyway?"
Bud straightened up and a wicked smile crept across his mouth. "Like I said before, Patrick, let's just agree on the fact that whatever I decide to do is inevitable. Hmm?"
"You know, Bud? I'm not so sure. I think maybe I'm starting to feel a little momentum shift here. After all, I'm the guy who just saved the life of yet another little girl from a deranged lunatic. That's two in the last six months. Impressive, huh?" I smirked.
"You know, Patrick," Bud said, smiling like a fox, "I'm gonna let you have this little victory. Go ahead. Enjoy it. Hell, I'll even admit that you deserve it. But in the end, nothing's changed. This still ends the way I decide it ends. So go ahead and pat yourself on the back. I'm still the head motherfucker in charge. And don't forget it." He turned and went into his office.
All I could do was just grit my teeth and head into my own office. I really wanted to punch him in the throat right now. Somehow, my thoughts returned to something I had said about him not being at the hostage standoff yesterday. Wow. If he was, by some chance, stepping out of the office to bang my wife while I was going after a lunatic meth head holding his own daughter hostage, I would have MORE than enough to totally fuck over Bud and my soon-to-be-ex-wife. The only problem was how I would go about it.
I didn't have time for that right now. I still had to get my notes and thoughts together for the press conference and details of the standoff.
The press conference started at 2 p.m. and ran almost a full hour. During that time Bud rattled off some of the details of the event and Chief Banks got up and spoke, as well. Both of them played politician for the event big time. But about 20 minutes into the press conference, just as Bud had opened the event for questions from the press corps, one of the TV reports asked Bud if they could please hear from me, instead. Bud couldn't really say no and said that he would allow me to answer "a few" questions. Much to his immense chagrin, the press conference had me pinned down with question after question for the rest of the hour. Finally at 3 p.m. Bud had to call an end to the conference. They hadn't asked him a damned thing, which was unfortunate. I wish like hell one of them would have asked, "Where were you, Sheriff Roberts, during this whole standoff?" It would have been a real treat to see him try and wriggle his way out of that.
As we made our way back to our offices, it was easy to pick up Bud's vibe that he was extremely pissed about me taking over and monopolizing the Q & A session of the press conference. All of the questions asked of me were extremely flattering. They all did their best to make me look like the biggest hero since Audie Murphy. And I'm not the least bit ashamed to say that I ate it up entirely. I figured it would be a helluva lot harder for Bud to try and find an excuse to fire me next year and marry my wife if the entire county and state thought I was a hero.
At about 4 o'clock, I was getting ready to call it a day when I got a buzz from my secretary, Karen Landingham, on the phone intercom telling me I had a visitor. I told her to send in him or her and I quickly straightened up my office the best I could, not that it was overly messy to begin with. I hadn't been in it long enough to really make much of a mess. My predecessor, Floyd Franklin, had always been neat as a pin.
"Patrick!" It was the voice of an angel.
"Shannon! My gosh! Two days in a row I've gotten to see you! It must be because you're Irish. Your luck is starting to rub off on me!" We met and embraced briefly, though I still felt as though my body could have melted into hers. "Please. Sit down for a while."
"Okay," she said, "but I can't stay long. Bridget is at home with my Mom and she can't stay past 4:30."
"I understand. It's just such a pleasure. I'll take whatever time you can give me." I was on the verge of gushing but I'd let her stay all night if she wanted to.
"Well, I stopped by because I wanted to see if I could get you to let Bridget and I thank you for real by inviting you over for dinner some time this week."
"You certainly don't have to do that. You more than thanked me enough by going above and beyond to take care of me when I was hurt."
"Yes," she said, "but you also got hurt protecting my little girl. Inviting you and your family over for dinner is the least we can do."
I couldn't help but sigh heavily and look away when she said that.
"Oh, my gosh! Did I say something wrong, Patrick?"
"No, no, no, Shannon, not at all. It's just that.....well.....things are pretty strained in my house right now. I wish they were better, but they're not."
Shannon's total demeanor immediately went into "nurse mode". "I'm so sorry, Patrick. I had no idea. I can't even imagine how this whole ordeal must have affected your family."
"Well, to be truthful," I said, "it has been building for a long time, even before the shooting. In fact, I ended up moving out of the house. I'm hoping it's temporary but I'm prepared in case it isn't." I couldn't understand why I was telling this all to Shannon. She just seemed to bring it out of me. There didn't seem to be any way that I could keep anything from her.
"God! I had no idea. I'm so sorry you have to go through this. Listen, even if your family can't come along, the offer is still open. Bridget would dearly love to see you again. She talks about you so much and she is really hoping that you will come for dinner."
"Thank you, Shannon. That is really kind of you both." She could sense that I was going to turn her down and was obviously crestfallen. "I just think that now is not a good time....." I stopped. What the hell? I still needed to eat, right? And why not do so in the company of two people that I immensely enjoyed being around? "Actually, Shannon, on second thought, dinner with you and Bridget sounds absolutely amazing. I would be delighted to be your guest."
Shannon suddenly looked as though she was going to burst with joy. "Oh, that is so awesome! You won't regret it, Patrick! I make an amazing rack of lamb! Gosh! I can't wait to tell Bridget! She'll be so thrilled!"
"I'll have to bring some flowers or some other gift to thank her for her hospitality," I said.
"Oh, my! If you do that, she'll never want to let you leave!" Suddenly, I could sense that Shannon felt awkward for that comment, but I didn't care.
"Well, if you're as good of a cook as you say, maybe I won't want to, either!"
"Six o'clock Friday night work okay for you?"
"That would be perfect."
I stood to see her out of my office. There was an awkward pause where normally I would have shaken hands with whoever had come to see me. Instead, Shannon reached forth and hugged me. This one was much longer than the initial hug and again made me feel as though our bodies were going to melt into one another. Every scent of her filled my nostrils and I could feel my own heart pounding inside my chest yet again. God! Why did this woman have such an affect on me? As we continued to hug, I could see a couple of deputies out in the main office area looking in on us. Much as I didn't want to, we slowly eased from our embrace.
"I'll see you Friday night then."
"Six o'clock sharp," she said. "Don't be late or Bridget will never let you hear the end of it," she giggled.
I watched Shannon exit my office and head down the hall toward the elevator. As she passed by, even the two deputies had to sneak a peak and watch her from behind. When the elevator door closed, the two deputies looked at each other and mouthed the word 'wow' simultaneously.
I was on cloud nine when I got home that night. I hadn't seen my boys for two days and they both wanted to know all about the hostage standoff and how the SOG team and I had rescued the little girl. Clarissa actually made a decent dinner that night, no doubt to help keep up the façade of life being normal for the boys' sake.
I stayed up and played video games with the boys until it was time for them to go to bed, much to Clarissa's chagrin. She hated video games with a passion and thought the boys played them too much instead of spending more time outside. And of all the games, she hated "Call of Duty" most of all. So the boys and I played for about three hours straight just to piss her off.
Once the boys were tucked in for the night, I was getting ready to leave for the motel when Clarissa approached me wanting to talk.
"Patrick, I need you to do me a favor and spend the weekend with the boys out here on the farm."
"From when to when?" I asked.
"I'll be leaving Friday afternoon and heading to the cities with some of my girlfriends for a weekend getaway," she said coolly.
"Absolutely not."
"What?" she said, indignant. "Are trying to tell me I can't go?"
"No, I'm not. But I can't stay with the boys Friday. I already have a previous engagement that night that I absolutely cannot and will not break."
"You have to, Patrick. I really need this time for myself."
"Oh, bullshit, Clarissa. At least be honest with me for God's sake. You're planning on sneaking away with Bud. We both know it. Why try to pretend otherwise?"
"Your sister can't have them over at her place and they're too young to look after themselves. Which leaves only you. They need you to do this, Patrick."
"Don't do that," I hissed.
"Do what?"
"Don't use the boys against me to try and coerce me into enabling a weekend getaway and fuck session for you and Bud. Now I already told you. I have plans for Friday and I am not going to break them. Your little lovers retreat is gonna have to wait." I stormed out of the house before she could even answer me.
When I showed up at the office the next morning, Bud was standing outside his office giving me the old 'stink eye'. He was obviously pissed that I wouldn't take the boys off Clarissa's hands so he could spend the weekend fucking my wife in Minneapolis. Oh, well. Fuck him. And fuck Clarissa, too. Bud was going to do whatever Bud was going to do, just as he said. Maybe I was powerless to stop it. But then again, maybe I wasn't.
The more I had thought about it, the more I had begun to wonder about Bud's whereabouts during the hostage crisis. It would really be something if Bud had been out at my house fucking my wife on company time, in the middle of a crisis, while the husband of the woman he was sticking his dick into was actually risking his own life to save a little girl. I needed to make that a priority to try and find out and be able to prove it.
The rest of the week seemed to drag in slow motion as I was filled with anticipation of dinner with Shannon and Bridget on Friday night. But Friday arrived nonetheless. I actually ducked out of work early Friday afternoon and burned up a little comp time. I made sure to file the necessary paperwork indicating that I was doing so, just so Bud couldn't come back and fuck me over for it for screwing up his weekend plans. And I also wanted to get out of there early enough that he couldn't find me at the last minute and stick me with some bullshit task that would make me late for dinner. I even made sure the battery on my cell phone had bled dry for added measure. Tonight, Bridget and Shannon would have my undivided attention.
I arrived at their front doorstep precisely at 5:58 p.m. according to my watch. I had previously had enough time to head back to the motel and freshen up with a shower and fresh set of casual clothes. There was a fresh layer of snow on the ground from earlier in the week and the town sledding hill was within walking distance from Shannon and Bridget's house. So I decided to surprise Bridget with a brand new toboggan as a thank you for inviting me to dinner. I also brought a small, tasteful bouquet of flowers for a centerpiece and a bottle of pinot noir from a winery in Minnesota.
Bridget was absolutely ecstatic with the sled and insisted that we make a date for an afternoon at the sledding hill. Shannon took the small bouquet of flowers from me and was impressed by the bottle of wine. She wore a simple print sun dress with a beautiful hand-woven shawl wrap. The house was a single story bungalow very similar to the one at the hostage standoff earlier in the week. It was very simply but elegantly appointed. Shannon and Bridget had already been decorating the home in anticipation of Christmas, complete with Bridget's letter to Santa on the refrigerator door waiting to be mailed to the North Pole.
Shannon had indeed outdone herself with her preparation of the rack of lamb, a dish I had never eaten but one that smelled absolutely divine. She finished off the meal with a fruit salad, fresh asparagus and red-skinned mashed potatoes with garlic and butter.
Shannon and Bridget both seemed to absolutely glow in the warm soft light of the two candles that were lit and burning brightly as the sole source of light for our meal. The ambience couldn't have been finer at the very best five star restaurants and I couldn't imagine two more splendid ladies to spend the evening with. Bridget had even done the lion's share of the work, with much motherly supervision, in preparing a pan of homemade brownies with vanilla ice cream and hot fudge for dessert.
It was tempting to want seconds on just about everything they had prepared but I didn't want to seem like a glutton. Against Shannon's protests, I insisted on helping to clear the table to wash the dishes, since she didn't have an automatic dishwasher.
We settled into the evening with a raucous game of Monopoly, with Bridget becoming a real estate magnate and pretty much taking over the whole board. By the time she had finished purchasing the B&O Railroad and buying a hotel for Marvin Gardens, it was pretty obvious that Bridget was getting close to her bed time and she was yawning constantly. We agreed that we would count up all of our money and whoever had the most would be declared the winner. Bridget ended up with almost three times as much as Shannon and I combined. As such, she marched victoriously to her bedroom to change into pajamas before brushing her teeth, saying her prayers and crawling into bed.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Bridget nearly brought a tear to my eye when she asked her mother if it would be alright for me to read her a story at bed time. Shannon nearly choked up as well and said, "of course." She stood at the door as we read "The Velvetine Rabbit". Nearly halfway through the story, Bridget was fast asleep with her head on my shoulder but I continued reading to the end just to make sure. I couldn't help myself as I leaned over and kissed her head as she lay sleeping.

I walked out to the living room and saw that Shannon had taken some time to change clothes and slipped into a favorite pair of jeans and a Minnesota State Mankato sweatshirt. She offered me another glass of wine, which I accepted against my better judgment. Then we both sat down on the living room sofa. The soft light of the candles from the dinner table combined with some other votive candles that Shannon had lit to provide extra lighting during our Monopoly game but now served to provide an overwhelmingly romantic aura.
I struggled madly to maintain my composure as Shannon seemed to look more lovely and beautiful every single time I saw her. An old college sweatshirt and pair of faded jeans never looked so good on anyone before tonight.
"I want to thank you for coming tonight, Patrick. You totally made Bridget's day," she said, taking my free hand in hers. "And mine, too."
"Cheers," was all I managed to say and we clinked our wine glasses together. "So, how long have you and Bridget lived here?"
"This house used to be a rental property of my father's. It wasn't much to look at before we moved in. I got pregnant with Bridget when I was only seventeen and she was born my senior year at Red River High. We lived with my parents for two years while I went to college at Red River Falls Community College and got my Associate Degree in Nursing. Then I went to Mankato and got my Bachelor's of Science in nursing. It was tough leaving Bridget with my parents during the week and only seeing her on weekends. But I was able to finish in three more semesters, so it was worth it."
"Wow. Sounds like you really put your shoulder to the grindstone," I said. "I can only imagine how tough that was. Were you single the whole time?"
"Yeah, I was. Billy and I didn't last long after Bridget was born."
"I assume he wasn't always the kind of man I encountered on the highway last August," I said, trying to sound sympathetic.
"Billy was an infatuation for me. He was older and I guess there was kind of this taboo aspect of it. My father never liked him, never liked the fact that he was so much older than me. But I was too young and too stubborn to stop seeing him. Pretty soon, I started feeling sick every morning and I just knew I was pregnant."
"Were your parents pretty upset?"
"Oh, my God! My mother cried for almost a week straight. I could actually handle that. What really sucked was how my father handled it."
"I supposed he raised seven different shades of hell over it."
"No, not at all. Quite the opposite. He didn't speak to me for almost a month. He was so incredibly disappointed in me on the one hand, but also angry at himself because he felt like he didn't do enough to protect me. I've always been kind of a daddy's girl and I know he was just devastated."
"I can only imagine. Sometimes I think I got lucky having boys," I said.
"It took a long time but once Bridget was born, she was all they ever cared about. Billy came over less and less to see her. Once he got started in with all the drugs and was in and out of jail all the time, he pretty much never came around at all, which was fine by all of us. The last time he did come by, before the kidnapping at least, he ended up leaving at the end of my father's shotgun. That was almost six years ago. Soon we got a restraining order and then a petition for termination of parental rights. Billy never put up a fight."
"Jeez! Remind me never to piss off your father!"
"Oh, don't worry about that. As long as you promise never to slap me around like Billy did, you're fine. In fact, he's been dying to meet you. I..." She suddenly stopped. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't talk like that. I make it sound like we're dating or something." I could see her start to blush. Maybe the wine was having an effect on her.
"Don't worry. You're fine. I'd be delighted to meet your folks some time."
Shannon put down her wine glass. "So tell me about your family."
"Well, I grew up in western Iowa. My father, whom I haven't spoken to in years, is a highly paid trial lawyer and head of his own law firm with offices in Sioux City, Omaha and Sioux Falls. He has been disgusted with me for becoming a law enforcement officer instead of a lawyer like himself."
"What about your mother?" she asked.
"My mother passed away this last January after a bout with lung cancer."
"Oh, my gosh. I'm so sorry," Shannon said, placing her hand on my forearm. God, it felt good when she touched me.
"Don't be. She put up a good fight, almost three years. I'm glad she doesn't have to suffer anymore."
"So, what brought you to Red River Falls?"
"My sister Beth and her husband moved here quite some time ago, along with their kids. Her husband is a local attorney here and grew up in Morehead. After I got done with college and got my degrees in criminology and psychology, I ended up applying for a position with the Red River Falls security officer Department."
"And now you're on the Sheriff's department. Which do you like better?"
"Wow. Tough question. Umm.....I liked the fact that my life was probably simpler at the PD but my family was ultimately happier when I got hired at the sheriff's department and we could move to the country. It seems to have worked out for everybody except me," I said, taking another sip of wine.
"How so?" she asked, innocently.
I sat there silent. I ended up saying what I wanted to say but I probably shouldn't have. The wine was now definitely having an affect on me, too. As much as I struggled to hold the flood behind the dam, the dam finally burst. I started all the way at the beginning -- how Bud had seemingly been scheming with Clarissa so I could get hired, how Bud had parlayed that favor into a sexual relationship that now seemed headed for my eventual dismissal from the department and a train wreck for a life to come. I told her about the conference in Minnesota and coming home to find them in my house, confirmation of everything I had heard. How I had seemingly been promoted to draw me in closer to Bud to throw me off the scent of the trail that led to his and Clarissa's affair. How Bud ultimately planned to divorce Margolene and eventually claim Clarissa for his own, leaving me cuckolded and humiliated. And, most probably, leaving me out of a job and possibly facing a shitload of fabricated criminal charges.
Shannon just sat there during my twenty minute shrink session, listening to me spill every last drop. The only thing my wine-loosened tongue had managed to leave out was the torrid sexual encounter that occurred between my soon-to-be-former mother-in-law and I. When I could finally look up from my wine glass, Shannon was sitting there with tears in her eyes. She took my wine glass from me and set it on her coffee table. And then she hugged me and squeezed me like she was never going to let me go.
"My God, Patrick," she whispered. "How could any woman treat you like that? How could any woman not see you the way any normal woman would? How could a man do that to someone they called a friend? Especially after everything you have done to keep people safe?" She cried softly on my shoulder. Her body felt like a life-preserver for me -- something I had to hold onto to rescue my own masculinity, sanity and self-worth. In her eyes, I was a man. And that was a feeling I had been missing in my life for far too long.
"Thank you," I whispered in her ear as we continue to cling in our embrace. "Thank you for at least giving me back some of what was taken from me."
Shannon eased her embrace and pulled away from me as she wiped her tears on her sleeve. And for a few moments she just looked at me, deeply into my eyes as though she were looking at my very soul. And then she placed both hands on my face and drew me into her as she planted an incredibly moist and passionate kiss on my lips that was hot enough to melt steel. As good as it felt to simply hold this woman in my arms nothing could prepare me for the electrifying experience of that first kiss. I struggled to breathe, tried desperately to get air in my lungs but she had managed to knock every last whisper from me with her kiss.
"Patrick, I'm sorry," she said pulling back. "I don't know what got into me. I -- "
I didn't give her a chance to finish as I pulled her back in and did my best to give her the same experience with a kiss of my own. She let out a small moan of approval as her lips seemed to melt into mine. With each kiss, the fervency grew and soon our tongues were exploring each other's mouths, seemingly trying to find a way to become one.
We continued to kiss, embrace and run our hands all over each other's backs and arms as we did so. I grasped her shoulders during one kiss and inadvertently brushed my right hand over her ample left breast. I pulled back, slightly shocked and for a split second, I panicked that maybe I had gone too far. Shannon gave me a devilish grin, grasped my hand and returned it to her left breast. I gently squeezed, eliciting a coo of pleasure from Shannon. My left hand quickly found her right breast and I began caressing them, squeezing them and exploring them both. She closed her eyes and continuously rubbed her hands through my hair as I continued to kiss her neck and fondle her breasts.
Suddenly, Shannon pulled herself away from me and stood up. Slowly, she began to pull one arm through the sleeves of her sweatshirt and then the other.
"Patrick, tonight I am going to give myself to you. I'm going to give myself to you in return for you giving yourself to me and my daughter. I want you to have my body tonight in gratitude for giving me my daughter back."
"Shannon, you don't..."
"Shhhhhhhh," she said, putting her finger on my lips. "Don't say anything. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't want to. I need to do this, Patrick. I haven't given myself to any man in over seven years. I want that man to be you." And then she kissed me again passionately.
I watched in abject amazement as Shannon slowly and tantalizingly removed her clothing piece by piece. Her eyes didn't leave mine the entire time and drew my own gaze into hers. She removed the thin white cotton t-shirt she had on underneath her sweatshirt and revealed her immaculate cleavage. It was clear to me now that there was indeed a God who loved us and wanted us to be happy, which is why he gave us the wonder bra. Her brassiere struggled to hold back those PERFECT set of D-cup breasts. Next, she unbuttoned and tantalizingly lowered her faded jeans revealing her shaved, creamy and shapely legs. Standing before me in just her bra and high French cut panties was the absolute perfect example of an hourglass figure. Shannon had the most amazing figure I had ever seen, whether in a magazine or in real life. She didn't have a washboard stomach but it was nice and flat with just a small hint of a bump below her belly button, which I had always found sexy. Clarissa was so much thinner and several sizes smaller than Shannon and maybe more toned. But Shannon's body was the stuff of legend for men who like curves. And Shannon had more curves than a grand prix race track.
I held out my hand, which she took, and pulled her closer to me. I wanted to have the pleasure of removing the last two articles of her clothing myself. I pulled her in close to me and resumed kissing her and fondling her breasts. With my right hand I expertly reached behind her and, with a single snap of my fingers, released the clasp of her bra and revealed her breasts in all their glory. I couldn't help but just stare at them for a few moments. Clarissa was only a B cup and even that was being generous. I had never seen a chest like Shannon's in real life and I was determined to savor the moment. I cupped her right breast and slowly and gently tweaked the nipple, bringing it to rigid attention. I took her left nipple in my mouth and slowly sucked and swirled it with my tongue until it, too, was rigid. Shannon thoroughly enjoyed my efforts and her moans and coos of pleasure told me so. I alternated suckling each breast and nipple, interspersed with deep and passionate kisses. There wasn't a single thing about this woman that I didn't find sexy and I was determined to explore every last inch of her magnificent body.
After about 15 minutes of this, Shannon pulled herself away from me.
"I just realized," she said coyly, "that you are way over dressed for this party."
Shannon started at my feet and removed my shoes and socks. She then unbuckled my pants and pulled me into a standing position. She helped remove my sweater and t-shirt before sliding my khaki pants down to my ankles and removing them altogether. She stood there as I was dressed only in a pair of boxers that did absolutely NOTHING to try and hide the raging erection that was threatening to burst through the fly of my boxers.
As I stood there in only my boxers Shannon gasped as she looked at the scars from the shotgun blasts on my right shoulder, arm, chest and my right leg, even though they were quite healed up from the last time she had seen them in the hospital. I could see tears well up in her eyes as she reached forth and began gently caressing each of them and lightly kissing them. She did this for several minutes and the feeling and anticipation were exquisitely building.
Shannon reached inside the elastic waist band and gently squeezed my throbbing member. "Why, Sheriff Quinn!" she giggled. "Is that a gun in your skivvies or are you just happy to see me?" I couldn't answer as her mouth once again attacked my own with a phenomenal kiss. For a woman who hadn't been with a man in over seven years, she was a passionate and gifted lover, it seemed. "Sorry," she said between kisses. "I couldn't resist using that little gem!"
"No apology necessary, as long as you keep kissing me like that," I said, breathlessly.
"You ain't seen nothin', yet, Patrick." And with that, she removed my boxers altogether. She pushed me backwards onto the sofa until I was sitting on top of the back of the sofa with my feet on the cushions. My penis literally throbbed with each pounding beat of my heart and my massive testicles and low-hanging ball sack hung there dbangd on the back cushion. "My God," she said. "You have got to have the biggest testicles I have ever seen!" I felt the old pang of panic and embarrassment start to grip my stomach. But she finished by saying, "No wonder you're such a hero and aren't afraid of anything!"
Shannon dropped to her knees and immediately took my left testicle into her mouth and gently caressed it with her tongue. It was definitely a mouthful for her! The sensation was absolutely heavenly. She repeated the move with the right one, just to give them equal attention and then she proceeded to carefully lick and caress my entire scrotum. Just when I thought it couldn't feel any better, she pulled her head back, aimed the head of my penis at her lips and proceeded to swallow my cock in its entirety. She slowly moved her head back and forth and the sensation was almost more than I could take. She was equally skilled at oral pleasures as Caroline had been, although I would never tell her that. Shannon, too, gently gripped my scrotum with one hand and proceeded to stroke me with the other while she also continued to suck and deep throat my cock. I had to struggle like hell to fight the urge to just let it all out and blow a massive load, but I didn't want it to end this soon. I let her suck and stroke me for another five minutes or so before I gently pushed her head back and got up from the couch.
I gently sat her down on the couch instead, spread her legs gently, and kneeled down in front of her with my head near her panties. I could smell the heavenly manna of her sweet nectar as it slowly soaked its way through those cotton panties. I rubbed my hands up and down her smooth, creamy thighs and nuzzled the crotch of her panties with my nose, breathing in deep the scent that was driving me wild. As I did so, Shannon slipped a hand inside her panties and rubbed herself several times, emerging with fingers glistening with her juices. She reached forth and placed her fingers in my mouth, allowing me to taste her sweetness and lick her fingers clean. She reached in again and rubbed her lips and love canal again before urging me to again lick her fingers clean. She did his several more times before I finally couldn't stand it anymore.
I slowly pulled those thin cotton panties down revealing her delicious, glistening honey pot. I slowly lifted her legs up until the heels of her feet rested on my shoulders. I made one long lick with my tongue all the way from just above her sphincter and up to her clit.
"Oooohhhhh, Patrick," she whispered. "That feels so good! Please do that again."
I licked again, flattening my tongue this time to cover more of her pussy, which was met favorably with more moans and a flood of fluid from her. I picked up the pace of my licking, occasionally mixing it up with gentle swirls of her engorged clitoris. Occasionally, I would place my mouth over the entire outside of her vagina, make a seal and suck in deeply while simultaneously making large swirling motions with my tongue. The effect of this was Shannon's first earth-shattering orgasm of the night. She grasped the back of my head with both hands and tried to force her pussy into my face or my face into her pussy. Either way, she kept cumming as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.
I continued to lick and lap up every last drop of her sweet pussy juices, occasionally stealing a quick lick and swirl around her beautiful, brown, puckered sphincter. Each time it caught her by surprise and she gasped deeply with each lick of her anus.
After ten or fifteen minutes of licking the most delectable pussy I had ever seen, Shannon pulled me up towards her where she proceeded to kiss me deeply and seemingly lick every last ounce of her own juices off my lips and face. It was intensely erotic and served to make my already throbbing penis hard enough to pound nails with.
"Now, Patrick, now. I want to feel you inside me." She stood up from the couch and had me sit down where she had been, only with my hips slid farther forward so I was sort of on my back with my rock hard penis sticking straight up in the air. Shannon straddled me and my cock slid effortlessly into her inviting pussy as she was so incredibly wet. I had to make her sit there for a moment until my mind and body could get used to the sensation of being inside her. One false move and I would have blown weeks' worth of cum into the depths of her womb. After a couple of minutes of waiting and fondling her breasts, I felt secure enough to start off with some gentle stroking. Very slowly at first but Shannon was able to easily match my rhythm.
I almost had to pinch myself as I couldn't believe that this picture-perfect female body was actually having sex with me. Shannon held my face in her hands as I gently stroked in and out of her succulent depths, her eyes locked with mine. If I didn't know better, I would have thought I was actually making love to this woman; such was the extent of the emotions I was feeling as well as the physical pleasure.
Soon, our mutual urgency kicked in and so did the pace of our sex. I sat up on the edge of the sofa and Shannon wrapped both of her legs around my lower back and locked herself into place. She hugged me and held me close as we had sex, constantly whispering the most amazing things into my ear.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

"Oh, Patrick, you feel so good," she whispered. "I want you to use my body, Patrick. I want you to take as much pleasure from me as I can give you. I just want to give myself and give everything I have to you."

Finally, I felt that familiar feeling start as my groin muscles started to tense up. We were both breathing fast and heavily and a mind-blowing and earth-shattering simultaneous orgasm started to grip us both.
"Oh, God, Patrick! Fill me up, fill me all the way up! I want to take every last inch of you and every last drop of you!" God, the things she said were so hot!"
"I can't hold it anymore," I said. "I'm gonna cum!" I tried desperately to position myself to pull out but Shannon stayed locked into position. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," I moaned as I finally released a massive load. Shannon stifled her own pleasure by firmly but gently biting into my tbangzius muscle in my neck.
We stayed there, locked firmly in each other's embrace for five minutes or more, all the while the gentle but firm contractions of her pussy muscles continued to spasm in their post-orgasmic bliss, milking every last drop of semen from my spent cock. We were interrupted by a strange sound that I soon realized was the sound of my own semen dripping from Shannon's pussy, onto the base of my cock, running down my nut sack and splattering on the floor. It was as continuous as a leaky faucet and the whole episode caused Shannon to giggle, which felt incredibly good on my cock when she did, which would cause me to spurt out even more cum and just added to the post-coital chaos.
"My goodness, Sean Patrick Quinn," she said, nibbling on my ear lobe and neck. "Just exactly how much do those balls of yours hold, anyway? I didn't know a man could fill a woman up the way you just did!" God, this woman totally knew how to stroke my ego.
"Well," I said chuckling, "to tell you the truth, it has been so long since I had sex, I sort of forgot myself." Suddenly, a dose of reality hit. "Oh, shit! Duh! I didn't use a condom! Oh, my God!"
"Relax, cowboy. I just ended a visit from 'Aunt Flo' yesterday morning. So there is almost a zero percent chance of getting me knocked up and sperm can't live inside a vagina for more than about 48 hours. Considering it will probably be another week or more until I ovulate, we should be pretty safe. Trust me. Not only am I a super nurse but I'm also Catholic and have a terrific understanding of the rhythm method," she giggled.
"You're awesome," I said, leaning back. "Remember the other day when I said that I probably wouldn't want to leave here tonight?"
She smiled. "Yes, I do."
"I really wish I didn't have to leave here tonight."
She leaned in for another sweet, passionate kiss. "I wish you didn't, either, Patrick. No matter what happens after tonight, you're gonna be a heck of a tough act to follow."
"What exactly was this tonight, then?" I asked.
"I don't know, Patrick. Maybe it was something that was just so amazing you can't label it with just one word."
"I don't want this to just be a one-night stand, Shannon. I don't want this to just be a notch in either of our belts. We both deserve more than that."
"Yes, we do, Patrick," she said, finally sliding off of my still semi-rigid cock and snuggling up with me on the sofa. "And, I'll be honest with you. If the day should come in the distant or not-so-distant future and you find yourself single and available, I'm going to really give you the full court press, mister."
"I wish I could promise you more, Shannon," I said. "But I can promise if the day comes when I am single and available, you will most definitely be my first phone call."
Shannon kissed me deeply and passionately again. I picked up my glass of wine and raised it up.
"Here's to promises," I said.
"No," Shannon corrected me. "Let's just drink to possibilities for now."
"Perfect." Shannon and I continued to cuddle and talk for quite some time before either of us bothered to remember that we were cuddling naked on her couch. We would have had a lot of awkward explaining to do if Bridget had awoken and come to the kitchen to look for a glass of water. I finally dressed and prepared to leave the warmth of Shannon's companionship and embrace for the cold of the early December chill to head back to my motel room. We exchanged cell phone numbers, which would make setting up any future dates easier and less awkward than having her stop by the sheriff's department. We also exchanged email addresses and Shannon reminded me that I still owed Bridget a date to the sledding hill to break in the new toboggan.
We shared one last long embrace at the door as I got ready to leave and one last long and tender kiss. It seemed like a long walk to my vehicle even though I was only parked across the street. When I arrived back at my motel I decided to forgo the shower until later. For the time being, I was content to just lay on the bed and think of her. I could still smell her everywhere on me and I could still taste her on my lips. Suddenly, my heart ached as if I had just been roundhouse kicked to the chest by Chuck Norris. As I lay on the bed taking in every last nuance of Shannon that my senses could possibly detect, I was hit by one amazing and overwhelming reality -- I was falling in love with Shannon Sullivan.
I woke up the next morning feeling amazing. I still had to pinch myself to see if the events of the night before were even real or not. When I stepped into the shower and let the warm water run over my face, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the dried juices from Shannon's face came to life again in the shower. Suddenly, I could taste her and smell her all over again and I knew that what had happened had not been a dream. I felt so good that I decided to drive out to the farm and steal my boys for the day and go have a little fun.
Clarissa was absolutely pissed to see me and even more pissed to see me in a ridiculously good mood. I decided that the boys and I would make a day of it with pizza, endless amounts of video games and top it off with a movie that evening.
"So, you have time to do all of this today but you couldn't make plans to see them or spend time with them last night?"
"Nope." It was the only answer she needed.
"I just hope you know, Patrick, how much you're on Bud's shit list for this. If you thought it was bad before, you have absolutely no idea what you're in for now. You could have at least been smart and played the game the way Bud wanted you to but you just had to go and be an immature asshole about it."
I knew she was trying to goad me into an even bigger argument but I wasn't going to take the bait. I decided in my mind to hold my cards, slim as they were for the time being, close to my chest.
"I'm just going to give you some food for thought, Clarissa. Instead of being so crass and shoving your affair in my face now that it is out in the open, you might want to still be careful and use some tact and discretion. All I'm going to tell you is that this whole thing might not end the way YOU want it to. Just keep that in mind, that's all I'm saying."
"You're delusional, Patrick, if you think this is going to end with you and I staying together."
"Hmm. I never said that you and I staying together was what I even wanted."
"Well, what the hell else could it be then, Patrick?"
"God, you are an arrogant twat! How the hell did I not see that before we got married?"
Clarissa never got a chance to answer as the boys came bounding down the stairs dressed and ready to go and headed out to my truck. We headed into Red River Falls and spend most of the day at a local pizza joint that has about three acres of video games, ski-ball and about eighteen lanes of bowling. I splurged and the boys and I spent almost $400 on food and games during the day. We ended our guy's day out on the town by hitting up the Cineplex in the mall and feasted on snacks, soda and popcorn while we took in a 3-D movie on the new Imax screen. We were all completely blown away by the experience and we all agreed that it was worth the extra cost.
I brought the boys home afterwards and found Clarissa curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine and a book. She didn't look the least bit happy. I couldn't help but smile to myself. I stuck around long enough to tuck the boys into bed and then made a hasty exit so I didn't have to listen to any more of Clarissa's bullshit.
The next morning was Sunday and I decided to shower and go grab some breakfast at Denny's. After a so-so omelet and pancakes, I decided to go to late morning Mass over at St. Matthew's. I hadn't been to Mass in a while, what with everything else in my life going on, and I missed the experience and missed running into people I knew. I thought a little church and companionship would help ease some loneliness of being away from my boys.
Mass ended right at noon. As I was walking to the rear of the church to shake hands with our priest, I heard someone shout, "Patrick!"
I looked to my left and saw Bridget running toward me and I scooped her up in my arms for a big hug. I was delighted to see Shannon approach behind her and wearing her million-dollar smile. There was another couple with Shannon and I assumed them to be her parents. Shannon and her mother looked like they could be sisters as her mother looked incredibly good for her age.
"Shannon! Gosh, what a surprise!" I tried to feign not being too friendly or familiar to her.
"You, too! So nice to see you again," she said, obviously following the same playbook.
"Patrick? Are you gonna take me sledding soon?" Bridget wanted to know.
"You betcha! There's supposed to be a big storm coming this week with lots of snow! We'll do our best to be the first ones on the hill. Sound good?"
"Yes!" came the enthusiastic reply. Our little group moved to the side so the rest of the parishioners could exit the church more easily.
"Patrick, I would like you to meet my parents. This is my mother Suzanne."
"Hello. Pleasure to meet you," I said extending my hand. Wow! It was easy to see where Shannon got her amazing looks from.
"Thank you, Patrick. A pleasure for us, too," she replied, graciously.
"And," Shannon continued, "this is my father, Jack."
"Nice to meet you, sir," I said as he gripped my hand quite firmly.
"The pleasure is all mine, Patrick. Words can't express everything that you've done for our family. We're all deeply indebted to you."
"Nonsense. Just doing my job."
"A janitor mopping a floor is just doing his job, too. He doesn't go to work everyday facing the possibility of getting shot," Jack replied.
"True," I said. "I'm just glad I could help out and that everything turned out well."
"How are you recovering from your injuries?" Suzanne asked.
"Oh, I'm pretty much back to 100 percent. Thankfully, I had an amazing nurse." I could see Shannon blush. "And how have you been lately, Shannon?"
"I'm doing okay," she replied with a devilish grin. "Life is good these days. It has a good rhythm to it."
Oh, my god! I almost choked on my own spit. Here we were in the middle a church and Shannon was making a very-much-inside joke about what happened the other night in her living room. I struggled to maintain my composure, though it was very hard to do. Thankfully, her parents weren't the wiser to it all.
"So, Patrick," her mother went on, "do you have any plans for the rest of the day?"
"Uh, actually, I'm going to be meeting some friends here in a bit to watch the Vikings game this afternoon. We usually get pretty crazy whenever they're playing the Packers."
"Well," Jack chimed in, "the game will look pretty good on our new 60-inch plasma TV. You're welcome to come on out to our place to watch it with us, if you're interested. My wife makes a mighty fine roast beef, too."
"That's a very generous offer, but I just ate a late breakfast before church. I'm sure my buddies and I will fill up on plenty of beer and appetizers while we're watching the game. Plus, I have a tendency to swear a lot when I'm watching the Vikings, especially this year," I said, patting Bridget on the head.
"Yeah, I hear you," Jack chuckled. "Well, the offer is still open if you're interested."
We exchanged pleasantries for about another five minutes before parting ways. As we headed outside into the cold December air, I couldn't help myself as I simply watched Shannon and her family walk toward their vehicle. But, much to my joy, Shannon looked back one last time and gave me a smile and a wave.
I kinda lied about meeting with my friends that afternoon as I didn't want things to get uncomfortable with Shannon's parents, which was too bad as I would have loved another home cooked meal. I spent the afternoon watching the Vikings/Packers game at a local sports bar called the End Zone. I actually knew a lot of the people there and a couple of them actually bought me beers for my handling of the hostage situation last week. The beer was good but the game wasn't as my beloved Vikings played hard but dropped another close game to the Pack up in Green Bay.
The next morning arrived too soon as I made sure to be at work right away at 8:00. Bud didn't show up until a little after 9:00 but made a point of stopping in his doorway and giving me the stink eye before settling in behind his desk.
I had spent a good chunk of the night last night stewing about and pondering what I needed to do in order to try and nail Bud and Clarissa for everything that was going on. The more I thought about it the more I realized that there had to be some kind of trail left behind. As I thought back to conversations with my boys, I remembered one conversation in particular in which my son Nick had mentioned his mother being on the computer a lot while I was at work.
Wheels began turning in my head and I began to explore the idea that maybe there would be some evidence of the affair, as well as Bud's long-term plans for me, which might show up in any kind of email correspondence between the two of them. I needed to find someone who could help me but I had no idea who knew a lot about computers. As I glanced out towards the cubicle area where the deputies all had their work stations I saw my good friend Danny Larson. He looked like he was just about finished with a report and probably headed back out to his cruiser to finish his patrol.
"Hey, Danny. Can you wait up a sec?" I called out to him.
"Sure, Pat. No problem. What's up?"
I quickly glanced towards Bud's office to see if he was watching but he had his back turned to the door of his office and was on the phone with someone.
"Let's go grab a cup of coffee and chat for a couple minutes." We headed down the hall to the break room and I dropped some coins in the vending machine for a couple of cups of coffee and we sat down at one of the small booths.
"What's up, Pat? Everything okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. Everything's good. I just wanted to know if you knew a lot about computers or if you knew someone who did."
"Well, I'm no computer whiz or anything. But what did you need to know?"
"Well, I'm looking for someone who knows a lot about computers. You know, the real nitty-gritty technical stuff."
"What about Dean Strobe? He's the IT guy for the department, right?"
"Yeah," I replied, "but Dean works strictly for the county."
"Oh, you're talking personal stuff then. I see. In that case you probably want to talk to Chris Hayes' old lady," Danny said.
"Chris Hayes' old lady? Who is she? His wife or something?"
Danny chuckled for some reason. "No, no. Definitely not his wife. I just call her his significant other. Tonya is her name. Tonya Fulbright. She runs a custom computer place and a used record store downtown."
"Used records and custom computers? Not sure I get the connection between the two," I said, confused.
"That's because there isn't one. One of the businesses pays the bills and the other is more of a hobby. To tell the truth, I'm not 100 percent sure that's all she sells out of that store but I don't make it my business to know, either."
"How so?" I asked, curious.
Danny chuckled again. "I don't want to spoil the surprise. You'll understand when you meet her. She's a little different. But make no mistake about it. She's absolutely brilliant when it comes to computers or anything digital. Give her a cell phone and an iPod and she could probably hack into the Pentagon."
Danny and I finished our coffee, chatted for a little while longer and then we each returned to our work. I decided that I would catch Chris Hayes at the afternoon shift change and invite him out to breakfast tomorrow morning or something.
Later that morning I got a call on the intercom that Bud was requesting to see me. I walked into his office expecting the worst, as usual, and closed the door behind me. Bud had his back to me and was working on his laptop at the work station that took up most of the wall behind his large executive desk. The formal executive desk was mostly there for show, I had decided, which formed a physical separation of Bud's place of power on one side from the general public or departmental peons who sat across from him on the other side. Bud motioned for me to sit, which meant that he regarded me as a peon.
I sat there for almost ten minutes while Bud kept working on his computer or at least pretended to be working on his computer. Meanwhile, he said absolutely nothing. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore.
"I'm sorry, but was there a purpose in asking me in here? I've got three warrants that I'm currently working on and was hoping to get served this afternoon."
Bud kept his back to me as he continued to type. "Was there a reason you felt it necessary to piss off and humiliate Clarissa this past weekend?"
"I wasn't trying to humiliate her or piss her off. I actually did have plans. But if she felt humiliated or pissed off because of it, then I guess that is a credit to me."
Bud kept typing. "Then I guess you understand the purpose of this meeting." Basically, he was daring me to get up and leave.
I played his game and sat there for another 20 minutes before his phone rang. From the sound of it, it was Margolene. Bud didn't bother saying anything and motioned for me to leave without turning around. The whole thing seemed pretty stupid and I guess it was. Bud probably knew that he had set my work back preparing the warrants and I would now have to eat part of my lunch break (no pun intended) to get them finished so the deputies could serve them this afternoon. It would be impossible to get the magistrate judge's signature on these until after lunch so Bud's little prank worked.
At 2:45 that afternoon, Deputy Chris Hayes arrived back at his desk from patrol and got ready to give report to his replacement for the 3:00 shift change.
"Chris? You got a minute?" I asked. He looked somewhat surprised and taken aback for some reason.
"Yeah, captain. What's up?" he asked.
"I'd like to have a meeting with you tomorrow morning. There are a few topics I'd like to discuss with you and I thought maybe we could grab a late breakfast or something and go over them."
Chris looked around to see if any of the other deputies were watching him. None seemed to be. "Yeah, sure. I guess that'd be fine. I mean, what can I say? No?" I hadn't expected the none-too-veiled sarcasm.
"Uh, great. Let's meet up at the Donut Hole tomorrow morning at eight."
"Okay, cap," Chris replied, sitting back down. "I'll be there with bells on."
I walked back to my office confused. Truth be told, I didn't really know Chris all that well, at least not personally. We had been co-workers now for a couple of years and I realized that my rise from patrol deputy to Captain could easily have been a source of jealousy. We were also members of the Special Operations Group together and he had been a part of the hostage rescue last week and had done a perfectly good job. Jealousy aside, it still didn't entirely explain the sarcasm and borderline hostile tone in his voice.