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Message-ID: <46133asstr$1073524202@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Al Steiner" <steiner_al@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} NEW: Rough Revenge by Al Steiner Part 2 (FF,Fm,FF,nc,toys)
Date: Wed,  7 Jan 2004 20:10:02 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Author's Note.  It's been a while since I've posted here since I've been
hard at work on my latest novel: A Perfect World, which is currently being
run at www.Ruthiesclub.com.  This story is one I wrote prior to A Perfect
World for a very special person in my life (who has a rather twisted sense
of revenge, I will admit) and is somewhat of a departure from my normal
postings in that it contains some non-consensual sex.  It's a three part,
character-driven story and I will post each part over the next three weeks.
As always, please let me know at Steiner_al@hotmail.com if you liked it,
disliked it, or whatever.  Happy New Year and good sex to all.



Al Steiner




Heritage County Tales: Rough Revenge

By Al Steiner



Part II



The next day was another hot one. The blazing California sun shone down from
the smoggy sky, heating up the asphalt, creating tons of ozone, and
generally making life miserable for the 800,000 inhabitants of Heritage
County. Surprisingly however, the blazing heat did not prompt the usual glut
of calls to the Sheriff's department. Usually alcohol consumption and
tempers, the two main factors in the vast majority of disputes, rose sharply
along with the mercury. Today, however, it seemed that folks were somehow
learning to just get along. By 12:30 that afternoon Mandy had only been
dispatched to two calls, an almost unheard of number for Lemon Hill on a hot
weekday.



She cruised slowly through her patrol district, driving her green and white
up and down residential streets, through apartment complexes, through strip
mall parking lots and county park access roads, her eyes searching for any
sign of suspicious activity she could look into, for anything that would
help ease some of the boredom that had settled in. But it seemed the heat
was keeping most of the populace indoors for the day, even the criminals.
Everywhere she went there was an almost eerie absence of people. She was
just getting around to thinking about asking for an early lunch period when
the computer terminal next to her finally beeped, indicating an incoming
message.



"Finally," she muttered, turning the screen toward her to see what her call
was. What she found, however, was not a call at all, but a message from
Lieutenant Goble, the day shift watch commander for the northern portion of
the county.



I'VE HAD DISPATCH PUT YOU OUT OF SERVICE FOR NOW, it said. MEET ME BEHIND
ALLISON'S PLAZA AND I'LL EXPLAIN. AND KEEP THIS TO YOURSELF IF YOU DON'T
MIND.



"What the fuck?" she said, instantly wary of the strange request. Lieutenant
Goble almost never came out into the field. And when he did, it was usually
because some major shit was going down. So why was he out here now? And why
did he want to talk to her? And, most troubling of all, why had he taken her
unit out of service so he could talk to her? That was almost unheard of. She
wondered if this had something to do with the report Jo Ann had filed on her
the day before. Usually Jo Ann didn't bother with such niceties as the chain
of command and would drop such things directly onto the desk of IA but maybe
this time she had actually followed procedure and put a copy on Goble's desk
as she was supposed to. Oh well, she figured. There was only one way to find
out. She turned her patrol car around and began heading for her rendezvous.



Allison's Plaza was an upscale strip mall on the more fashionable side of
Lemon Hill. There were a couple of restaurants, two coffee shops, several
cellular phone shops, and of course some pricey clothing shops, all designed
to cater to the yuppies of the neighborhood. Mandy pulled into the parking
lot and drove around to the back, where the delivery entrances were. There
she found Lieutenant Goble's green and white straddled across several empty
parking spaces. She pulled up next to him, the front of her car pointing
toward the rear of his, so their driver's side windows were next to each
other. She rolled down her window but left the engine idling and the air
conditioner blowing on her face.



"What's up, el-tee?" she asked him. "Don't see you out here among the
working class too often."



"Well, you know how it is?" he said, his voice a trifle weary. "We
management types have to get out once in a while to keep from getting
hemorrhoids from our desk chairs."



At 35 years of age, Goble was fairly young for a lieutenant. Though he was a
short man with a smaller than average build, he had never seemed to be
afflicted with the so-called "short-man syndrome" that infected so many
others of his stature, particularly among cops. He was a genuinely nice guy,
although perhaps a bit naīve, and he usually tried to do what was right and
fair for those that served on his watch. Of course Captain Boxworth above
him and Sergeant Boxworth below him were frequent thwarters of his policies
and procedures, but overall he did the best he could for a man who was
sandwiched between them in the chain of command.



"So what's happening?" Mandy asked. "I suppose you got that write up about
me from Jo Ann?"



His brow furrowed in confusion for a moment and she instantly knew he had
never received any write-up from Jo Ann. "Nope," he said. "I guess she
bypassed me in the chain of command again with whatever it is you're talking
about. No surprise there. What was it?"



"Oh, she just seems to think I used too much force during an arrest. Some
fuckin dirtball wanted to fight it out with me yesterday and I had to spray
him and thump him a few times to get him cuffed. She told me I was beating
on him and said she's writing it up to IA."



He shook his head a little. "In other words, exactly the sort of thing that
should've showed up on my desk."



"Right," she confirmed.



"You know," he said, "I've never wished for any cop to ever stumble into a
bank robbery and get blown away, but if there ever was someone I would wish
that on..." He sighed. "Anyway, Jo Ann is the reason I wanted to talk to
you, but it wasn't about that. It seems she's AWOL again."



"Again?" Mandy said, though not with much surprise. Jo Ann had a tendency to
just disappear for a few hours in the middle of the day. No one would be
able to get hold of her by any of the various means of communication
employed to keep track of cops in the field. With any other cop this would
be a source of great concern. Every unit in the district would be pulled off
whatever else they were doing and a massive search would be organized. The
helicopter would be called in and the canine units would be sniffing around.
But with Jo Ann, it was just another aspect of her annoying personality. The
first few times it had happened she had been chewed out of course, but any
discipline stopped the moment it climbed higher than the watch commander's
desk. By this point Goble and the other lieutenants didn't even bother
talking to her about it when it happened.



"Again," Goble sighed. "She hasn't responded to radio calls, MCT messages,
pages, or phone calls since around noon or so."



"Well what's the big deal then?" Mandy asked. "She does this shit all the
time. The district actually runs a lot smoother when she's not here."



"That may be true," he replied. "But this time we really need her for
something. She forgot to sign two of the overtime slips from last week and
since this is the day they do payroll they can't process checks for five
cops until her signature is on them. She's holding up the whole fucking
payroll system."



"We definitely can't have that shit," Mandy said. "If my paycheck is late
all of the checks I just wrote for bills are gonna bounce. You need to find
that bitch."



"Well, that's where you come in," Goble said with a smile. "I was hoping
that maybe you'd have an idea where she might be."



Mandy gave him a narrow look. "What makes you think I might know where she
hangs out?"



"Well... you used to be friends with her."



"Christ, why does everyone have to keep bringing that up to me lately?"



"How's that?" he asked.



"Never mind," Mandy sighed. And in fact, she did have a pretty good idea of
where Jo Ann was although this knowledge had nothing to do with their
previous friendship. She had known Jo Ann's destination during her AWOL
periods for almost a year now but she had never told anyone else about it.
It wouldn't have gotten Jo Ann in any trouble, since Jo Ann never got into
trouble, and it would have made Mandy out to be a fink to the other cops,
something that was severely frowned upon in the cop culture, even if the
object of the finking was an unpopular supervisor.



"Look," Goble told her, "I'm not saying you know anything about where she
is, and, truth be known, I don't really give a shit anyway. Like you said,
things run a lot smoother around here when she's missing. But if you have
any idea of her current whereabouts, even just a little one, I'd appreciate
it if you'd just drive out there and take a look. If she is there, just let
her know we need her back at the office post-haste so that everyone,
including her, can get paid. That's all I'm asking."



"All right," Mandy said, admitting nothing. "I'll see what I can do."



"Thanks, Mandy. I knew I could count on you."



+++++



Gardenia was the furthest north of the Heritage suburbs. Nestled up against
the county line it was an upscale place full of expensive tract houses, nice
restaurants, and classy shopping malls. It was not the kind of place where
you would find many apartment complexes, or liquor stores, or, God forbid,
porno shops. It was also the place where both Mandy and Jo Ann lived. They
in fact lived less than two miles from each other and their children went to
the same school. This was more than just an unpleasant coincidence. Jo Ann
had lived in her house since shortly after her marriage to Captain Boxworth.
During the time she and Mandy had been friends, Jo Ann had assisted her in
purchasing her own house in the same neighborhood. It was something Mandy
had semi-regretted ever since. Though she loved her house and her
neighborhood, though she loved the elementary school her children attended,
she was forced to constantly run into Jo Ann in her off duty hours, when she
should have been free from her. She saw Jo Ann picking up her kids from
school and she saw her in the grocery store on occasion. Though the two
women never talked to each other during these times it was bad enough just
having to look at her.



Mandy headed for Gardenia now, driving her green and white onto a freeway
onramp and heading north. She had a pretty good idea she would find Jo Ann
at her own home, probably stuffing her face with something or maybe even
taking a nap. The reason this had not occurred to Goble or any of the other
people who had searched for Jo Ann during her mysterious absences over the
years was because Gardenia was quite a ways from where Jo Ann was supposed
to be during work hours. Gardenia was an incorporated city, which meant it
had its own police department and was not patrolled by the Heritage
Sheriff's department, as were the other suburbs. It was also more than
twenty miles from Lemon Hill, well outside the range of where any other cop
would dare stray. Mandy knew that was where her wayward supervisor went
because she had seen her there many times in the past, cruising toward her
house in her green and white patrol car, which stood out like a cockroach on
a wedding cake in a city that used all white police cars for its force. It
didn't take a genius to figure out where she was going once the sightings
had been made.



She pulled onto Jo Ann's street nearly thirty minutes after being given her
special assignment from Goble. Like most residential streets in the new
section of Gardenia, the houses here were fairly new and of modern
architecture. Immaculately maintained lawns were in front of each one and
the color schemes were all within the strict guidelines of the Homeowner's
Association's CCR. Jo Ann's house was a two story, one of the larger models
on a premium lot (something Jo Ann used to delight in mentioning when
comparing her house with Mandy's). There was no green and white visible in
the driveway or on the street but Mandy wasn't fooled. She parked her car in
front of the house and got out, walking up to the garage.



She peered through the small window in the side of the garage and, sure
enough, there was a green and white Crown Victoria that belonged to the
County of Heritage inside. It seemed Jo Ann was at least smart enough to
hide her patrol car when she sneaked home to do whatever it was she did.
With a little smirk of satisfaction she went to the front door and rang the
bell. She was actually looking forward to seeing Jo Ann's face peering out
at her, to letting her know she knew her little secret and that she had for
quite some time. It would be a small victory, that was true, but it would be
a victory nonetheless. She planned to make her words sarcastic and
condescending.



But no one answered the door. She rang again and then again with the same
results. She then pounded on the door a few times, hitting hard enough to
make her knuckles sting. Still no answer. She debated trying to use her cell
phone to call inside the house but she couldn't remember Jo Ann's phone
number.



"Jesus fucking Christ," she muttered. "That bitch is a sound sleeper."



She tried the doorknob on the door on the off chance it would be unlocked.
It wasn't. She then walked around the garage to the back gate, finding it
closed but unlocked. A simple tug of the string that led to the latch and
she was in the backyard. She walked up the side yard to the main part of the
back yard. Of course the landscaping was top-of-the-line. Jo Ann would
tolerate nothing less. There was a large swimming pool and hot tub combo,
complete with waterfalls and a disappearing edge. The whole thing was
surrounded by stamped concrete upon which sat expensive redwood patio
furniture. A sliding glass door that led to the inside was beneath the
covered patio portion.



Mandy walked over to the door and put her hand on the handle, figuring this
one would be locked as well. She gave a little push and, to her surprise, it
slid open easily. On the other side was the family room, complete with a
large screen television and surround sound system. She hesitated for a
moment, not wanting to enter Jo Ann's house. She opened her mouth to yell
out her name but stopped when a sound reached her ears. It was a moan, not
of pain, but of pleasure. Mandy had been fucked enough times in her life to
know what sort of activity produced that kind of moan.



"Holy shit," she whispered to herself, hardly aware she was speaking aloud.
Did Jo Ann have a lover in there? Or was she simply drilling herself with a
vibrator? This question was answered a moment later when she heard another
moan, this one distinctly male, come drifting out.



Jo Ann did have a lover in there! That had to be what was going on! Captain
Boxworth, her husband, was at work right now, probably filling out reports
for the upcoming budget year. So that wasn't him she was in there fucking.
Her two children would be in school right now, probably spreading rumors
about Mandy's two children that had been fed to them by their mother. Jo Ann
was having an affair! Who could it be with? Was she in there screwing
someone with even more power than her husband had?



Mandy knew she shouldn't step inside, especially not now, but she couldn't
stop herself. She simply had to see what was going on in there, and who it
was going on with. She stepped though the doorway and into the family room,
leaving the door open behind her. Walking as quietly as she could, she moved
toward the stairway, which led up to the main bedrooms. She put her feet on
the first riser and then began to climb, step by step. As she reached the
upstairs hallway another male moan drifted out, louder this time. It was
followed by Jo Ann's voice, somewhat breathless, saying, "Not yet! You'd
better not!"



The door to the master bedroom was standing open. The hallway was rather dim
and the inside of the bedroom was well lit, so Mandy knew she could approach
in relative safety without much danger of being seen. She stepped up to the
side of the doorway and slowly inched her head forward, so she could peer
around the jam. The first thing she saw was Jo Ann's uniform lying on the
floor at the side of the bed. It was in an untidy heap, the boots kicked off
to one side, the gun belt, with her weapon still holstered inside, twisted
up on top of the shirt. A large pair of white panties was bunched up next to
this. On the nightstand, just beyond, was Jo Ann's large bra. She moved her
head a little further into the room, until she was able to see the
king-size, four-poster bed. She nearly gasped as she saw what was taking
place there.



Jo Ann was completely naked. She was straddling her equally naked lover and
bouncing quite enthusiastically up and down on his cock, her flabby ass
clenching and releasing, her celluloid thighs gripping at his, her huge,
sagging breasts flipping up and down with her motions. There was a layer of
sweat covering her pale skin and her face was a curious mix of meanness and
sexual arousal. She grunted with each thrust, her hands using her lover's
shoulders for leverage.



What was shocking about the whole thing, however, was not the fact that Jo
Ann was fucking another man in her marital bed or that she was doing it
while she was supposed to be supervising a patrol shift. No, the shocking
part was that the man she was fucking was not a man at all. It was Jeff
Boxworth, her seventeen-year-old stepson, who was lying beneath her. She was
fucking her husband's son.



"Oh my god," Mandy whispered, her eyes wide in shock as she took this in.
Jeff, who was now a junior in high school, had been produced during Captain
Boxworth's first marriage, a marriage Jo Ann had lured him away from ten
years before. Jo Ann had never liked Jeff during the days when Mandy used to
hang out with her. She would always complain about what a little brat he
was, or how he had no discipline. Her treatment of him had always been less
than savory. Nor did his treatment seem to be any better now, even though
they were engaged in an affair of some kind. He was a large kid, well over
six feet tall even though he hadn't finished growing yet, and, though his
fate was undoubtedly to end up fat and dumpy like his old man, he was
currently enjoying the best physique of his life. As he lay there below his
stepmother, his moderate cock sliding in and out of her dripping crotch, his
young face was staring up at her, partially in pleasure, partially in guilty
fear. As Mandy watched he reached up and tried to take one of her breasts
into his hand.



Jo Ann slapped his hand down. "Don't you touch my tits, you little fuck!"
she barked at him. "I've told you I don't like you touching me!"



"Sorry," he mumbled, his face flushing.



"Just shut up and lay there," she grunted. "I didn't bring you in here to
talk."



She began to buck faster upon him, her breath coming in gasps now as her own
skin took on a red luster. As she sped up it became obvious that Jeff was
fighting to maintain control of himself. He was biting his lip and clenching
his hands into tight fists. Soon, despite these containment measures, he
began to moan uncontrollably and his pelvis began to spasm up and down.



"No!" Jo Ann barked at him. "Don't you dare come, you little shit! Don't you
fucking dare!"



"I can't... can't help it," he moaned back fearfully.



Jo Ann took one hand off his shoulder and reached around behind herself. She
grabbed his wet testicles and squeezed them together hard enough to make her
knuckles turn white. The effect on Jeff was immediate. He screamed-the
high-pitched scream of a girl. His pelvis immediately stopped its spasms.



"There!" Jo Ann told him. "Does that fucking help it?"



Jeff was moaning in pain now, his words blubbering and incoherent. Within
two seconds Jo Ann slapped him across the face and began yelling at him for
losing his hard-on.



"You'd better get it back up in the next thirty seconds," she threatened,
"or I'm going to twist those balls around until they pop off. Don't think I
won't either!"



Mandy was quite appalled and disgusted by what she was seeing. Though she
had never particularly liked Jeff all that much he certainly didn't deserve
to be treated like that. No one deserved to be treated like that, except
maybe... well except maybe for Jo Ann herself. That thought gave her an
idea-a nasty, dangerous idea. Without allowing herself a moment to think
about it and maybe to have second thoughts, she impulsively went with it.
She backed quickly away from the doorway and eased back toward the stairs.
She went down to the family room and out the back door. Less than forty
seconds later she was standing next to her patrol car. Using her key she
opened up the trunk. She then pulled her trusty digital camera out of the
briefcase.



"I shouldn't do this," she told herself as she made her way back through the
backyard, camera in hand. But she didn't stop. She re-entered the house and
listened. Soon she heard another moan of pleasure, this one from Jo Ann's
mouth. They were still at it. It would be safe to go up there.



She remounted the staircase and soon was peering in the bedroom again. Jeff
had indeed regained his erection, which was probably due more to the
resilience of youth than by any sexual skill on Jo Ann's part, and the lady
of the house was once more using him as a living vibrator. She was bouncing
atop him again, this time with her back arched and her jiggling breasts
flapping to the sides. Her face was scrunched up into intense concentration
as she drove herself toward what seemed to be an approaching orgasm. Jeff
now had his eyes tightly shut and was just lying there, his fists gripping
the sheets, seemingly battling to keep his own orgasm at bay lest his balls
get twisted again.



Both of their faces were plainly visible to Mandy's eye. She looked at the
camera in her hand for a moment and used her finger to flip off the
automatic flash option. Though the light in the room was not optimum for
photography, it looked like it was bright enough for the shots to be
discernable. It would have to be since Jo Ann and Jeff would undoubtedly
notice if a flash started strobing from the bedroom doorway. She raised the
camera to her face and pointed it at them, framing both naked bodies in the
viewfinder. She pushed the button. The camera made a muted click and showed
her the results of the shot on the screen. It was perfect. Both faces
plainly visible and not a doubt in the world about what they were doing.



Jo Ann began to move faster atop him, slamming her body up and down with a
speed that was almost frightening. "Yes!" she cried. "Yes, you little
fuckhead, I'm gonna come all over your fuckin' cock!"



"Uhhhng!" Jeff grunted, his hands reaching up for a moment as if to grab her
but then dropping down before contact was made.



Mandy snapped another picture, and then another, adjusting the angle
slightly on each one, always making sure both faces were visible. She
watched as Jo Ann grunted and groaned and screamed her way through her
orgasm, as her flabby body shuddered and flushed, as her breathing became
the wheezy whistle of the asthmatic. She snapped another picture while she
was in the throes of this, and then two more as she started to come down
from it.



She figured she would get a few more as Jeff was finally released to have
his own orgasm but, to her horror and disgust, this did not happen. As soon
as Jo Ann's final spasm died away, she stopped all motion. She took a few
deep breaths and then started pulling herself off Jeff.



"Oh Jo Ann, please," Jeff pleaded. "I'm so close. Can't I just..."



Jo Ann barked out a laugh. "Don't even ask, you disgusting troll," she said.
"I've told you before, there is no way your filthy come is going into my
body. You can just go jack off in the bathroom like always."



"But Jo Ann," he pleaded.



"That is final," she said. "Be glad you even get what I give you." She rose
off him completely and started to get up.



Mandy realized with near panic that Jo Ann was actually serious. She was not
teasing the boy, either maliciously or playfully. She actually had no
intention of letting him come. She had threatened and beat him so he would
stay hard long enough for her to have her jollies and now she was just
leaving him hanging. And she would be turning around and heading out her
bedroom door any second!



She jerked her head back out of the doorway and began to move quickly toward
the stairs again. Just as she started down she heard Jeff ask if he could
use a rubber and come in her that way. Jo Ann made some reply, her tone
obviously one of disgust, but Mandy didn't clearly hear it. She was moving
down the stairs two at a time.



She made it safely out of the house and back to her patrol car without being
spotted. She quickly got in the driver's seat and set the camera down beside
her. Until now she hadn't realized how hard her heart was hammering in her
chest, how sweaty her palms were. She also hadn't realized how wet her
panties were. She could feel the moisture seeping out of her, lubing her up
for action. Her nipples were hard beneath her bra as well. She could feel
them scraping against the soft cotton. She knew however, that it wasn't the
sight of Jo Ann and her stepson doing the nasty that had prompted this
response, at least not directly. It was the thought of those pictures in her
camera and the possibilities they represented that had her so turned on. She
would have to think very carefully of how best to use them.



She turned on the engine and drove quickly away, getting out of the
sightline of Jo Ann's house as rapidly as possible. She headed directly
toward the freeway, her mind whizzing over what she had seen. As she drove
she turned the computer monitor toward her and began to type out a message
to Lieutenant Goble.



SORRY LT, it said, LOOKED EVERYWHERE AND NO SIGN OF HER.



"Grunge fuck," she said to herself as she sent the message off. "Something
to think about, isn't it?"



+++++



Jo Ann popped back into existence an hour later, apparently with no inkling
whatsoever that she had had a little visitor to her house. She was not
reprimanded or disciplined in any way for turning up missing for nearly
three hours. Goble simply asked her to return to the office to sign some
documents for payroll.



Mandy worked out the rest of her shift and then went home, not even stopping
at the gym to work out like usual. She took a shower and put on a long
T-shirt over her nakedness. She then fired up her computer and plugged the
digital camera into it. With a few clicks of the mouse she was soon looking
at the pictures she had taken of Jo Ann and Jeff. They were a little dim due
to the lighting, certainly not of the quality that would be seen in a
magazine or pay-for-porn Internet site, but they were perfectly
recognizable. She saved each shot to her hard drive and backed them up to
CDs twice. She then put some photo quality paper into her printer and
started churning out the shots in living color. It took a while to print two
sets but it was well worth the wait.



+++++



She did nothing with the photos for the next week. She told no one about
them, not even Trina. She moved one set of hard-copy photos and one of the
storage CDs to a safe deposit box she maintained and kept the other set
locked in the safe in her bedroom. Though they were shut away and though she
didn't even look at the copies on her hard drive, they weighed heavily on
her mind.



She had often fantasized about having something on Jo Ann, about having some
horrible piece of dirt on her that she could hold over her head, that she
could use to blackmail her with, or to get her fired with. And now, now that
she actually, by the grace of a kind and benevolent God, had such a thing,
she found she couldn't bring herself to use it. It wasn't that she lacked
the courage to make use of the information, that she was afraid to actually
confront Jo Ann. Nor was it because she thought that the dirt she possessed
wasn't dirty enough, that Jo Ann would somehow manage to skate out of this
one the way she always did. There was no getting around this scandal if it
were to break. She had actually been fucking her seventeen-year-old stepson.
If that came out she would lose everything, maybe even wind up charged with
a sex-crime. No, the reason she could not bring herself to make use of the
photos was because of the level it would bring her down to. She just was not
enough of a bitch. She just couldn't descend that far into the gutter. It
wasn't in her nature.



And so the photos remained in their various places of hiding and Jo Ann
continued to be Jo Ann in every way, shape, or form. Life in Gardenia and in
Lemon Hill went on just as it always had. Mandy considered just deleting all
of the pictures from her files, wiping them from the CDs, destroying the
hard copies. But something kept her from doing that. Perhaps it was her
subconscious, telling her the time would come when they would be useful. And
sure enough, that time soon came.



+++++



Wednesday was Mandy's favorite day of her workweek. For one, it was her
final day before her three days off started. More importantly however, it
was the first of Jo Ann's scheduled days off, which meant it was the only
day she would be free of her tyranny. On this particular Wednesday, Mandy
was enjoying the usual good mood that went along with this most sacred of
days. Unfortunately, that mood was not destined to last very long.



Sergeant Chad Parable conducted the morning patrol briefing, calling off the
names and unit numbers listlessly while he sipped from a double latte he'd
scored on the way into the office. He then read a summary of the previous
day's major crimes and issued a few BOLO reports. The day watch, most of
whom were also sipping from coffee containers of some sort, listened
politely, occasionally scratching something he said down in their notebooks,
occasionally tossing a good natured smart-ass remark in his direction.



Finally he released them to go out and make Lemon Hill safe for democracy.
The twelve cops that made up the day watch stood up from their chairs and
started gathering up their clipboards so they could file out to the parking
lot and get in their patrol cars. Mandy did the same, but before she could
make it to the door, Parable called to her.



"Mandy," he said, "can I see you for a second?"



"Sure Chad," she said, putting her clipboard under her arm and grabbing her
coffee cup. She walked over to the lectern at the front of the room. "What's
up?"



He waited until everyone else had left the room before speaking. When he
started to talk, he seemed apologetic. "I have a request from the admin
office for you this morning," he told her.



"The admin office?" she said, already feeling a worm of dread sinking into
her.



"Yes," he said. "Sergeant Nichols of internal affairs is requesting a
meeting with you. He would like you to head over directly after briefing,
before you go out on patrol."



The worm burrowed in deeper as she heard this. "Internal affairs, huh?" she
said. "Great."



"I heard about the uh... the write up Jo Ann sent to them," Parable said
sympathetically. "I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do."



"I wish there was something anyone could do," she told him. "Okay. I'll head
over there." She paused for a second. "Do you think I'm going to end up on
administrative leave from this? I've never been up before IA before."



"Neither have I," he said. "But I'd say that common sense rules apply. Just
tell them the truth. From what I hear it doesn't sound like you did anything
wrong."



"Then why do I have to go see him?"



"You know why," he said softly.



"Yeah, I suppose I do." She turned for the door. "Wish me luck."



"Good luck," he dutifully said.



She went out into the parking lot toward her car, feeling like a condemned
criminal heading for the execution room.



As she drove toward downtown she reviewed what she knew about Sergeant Jack
Nichols. None of the information she possessed made her feel very good.
Nichols was yet another fast rising member of the department who was trying
to make a name for himself within the organization. He was touted as one of
the biggest ass-kissers in the employ of the county. He would do anything,
say anything, burn anyone if it helped advance his career and kept his name
in the front of the brains of the brass. Like many of his breed, he had
little experience working patrol, less than a year, in fact. He had
supervised a patrol shift for a while-with only a little more efficiency
than Jo Ann herself-before being moved into the special investigations
division, of which Internal Affairs was a part. The word was that he was
number one on the list to be promoted to lieutenant. She did not know just
how close he was to Jo Ann and her husband but it stood to reason that a man
like him would go out of his way to make such people happy. And now he would
be in charge of investigating a complaint of excessive force against her.
Great. Things were just looking better and better by the minute.



She parked her patrol car in the back of the six-story building and used her
identification card to gain entry. From there she went up to the forth
floor, home of the special investigations division, until she found a door
marked INTERNAL AFFAIRS. She opened it up and stepped inside. The room was
not what she expected. Instead of some sort of modern torture chamber filled
with polygraph machines and interrogation lights, she found an ordinary,
everyday detective office. There were a few desks with computer terminals
sitting on them, a copy and fax machine, a whiteboard with various cases
written in either red or black marker. Two people were in there at the
moment, a fortyish woman dressed in a smart pantsuit and Nichols himself.
Nichols was in his early thirties and looked like a computer nerd more than
anything else. He wore thick glasses and was dressed in a business suit that
did not exactly match. His suit coat was off revealing the pistol and badge
strapped to his belt. He looked up as she entered the room.



"Deputy Barrington, I presume?" he asked, an insincere smile coming to his
face.



"That's me," she confirmed. "Mandy Barrington."



"Come on in, Mandy," he said, standing up from his desk. "Welcome to the
internal affairs office. Not much to look at, is it?"



She shrugged, refusing to take the bait and get friendly with him. "It's all
right," she grunted.



He picked up a file folder from his desk. She saw it had her name on it. "I
suppose you know why you're here," he told her. "And I can see you're
uncomfortable, so why don't we just go to the interview room and get this
over with as quick as we can and get you back to work, shall we?"



"Sure," she said, not fooled by his words. He was utilizing a common
interrogation technique, trying to get his subject comfortable with him. She
was having none of that.



He led her out the back door of the office and down a short, dingy hallway
to a room marked INTERVIEW A. Using an electronic keypad on the wall, he
opened the door and led her inside. She looked at the room with concern.
They could call it an "interview" room all they wanted, but she knew an
interrogation room when she saw one. There was a wooden table surrounded by
four cheap chairs and nothing else. No windows, no pictures on the wall. On
the back of the door would be a small glass circle that looked like a
peephole, only it wasn't a peephole, it was a video camera lens.



Nichols closed the door behind them and invited her to have a seat at the
table. He then took a seat across from her, setting the file with her name
on it down between them.



"Look, Mandy," he said, "I can tell you're very nervous about all this.
Nobody likes to be called into internal affairs and we realize that. I also
know you think I'm out to get you and that I'll do anything in my power to
get a suspension or a reprimand to stick. Again, that's simply not true. I'm
just here to get to the truth of what happened during that arrest last week,
okay?"



"Sure," she said. "The truth."



"I can see I still haven't convinced you," he told her. "That's okay. I
think you'll leave here with a completely different opinion of my fellow
headhunters and me though. You see, I already know what happened on that
arrest and I'm on the verge of marking this as a closed case without any
recommendations for disciplinary action. All I need to do is get your
official statement to make everything nice and legal, and we're done."



Mandy looked up at him, her eyes boring into him. Like any experienced cop,
she had become an expert at telling when someone was handing her a load of
shit and for the life of her, Nichols really seemed like he was telling the
truth. Was it possible? Or was Nichols just a particularly good liar? She
didn't know, couldn't tell.



"Okay," he said. "Before we start, there are a few preliminaries we need to
dispense with. You understand that this interview is part of an official
investigation and that it is being videotaped and audio recorded? And of
course, on that same note, you are entitled to have a union representative
present during the questioning. We'll stop right now and get you one if you
like."



"No," she said, "let's just get this shit over with."



"Very good," he said, pulling a few pieces of paper out of the file. "If
you'll just sign these forms for me, waiving your right to union
representation and acknowledging that the interview will be recorded, we'll
get started."



She signed where told and they began. He led her through the call with the
check forger step by step, in chronological order, starting with the
dispatch and ending with the transport of the suspect to the hospital to be
patched up. She told her story in the same monotone voice she'd used with Jo
Ann right after it happened. Although, like any cop, she had been known to
tell a fib or two in official reports in the past, she told nothing but the
truth in this case. Nichols made no comments on her narrative as she recited
it. He simply nodded from time to time and made the occasional note on his
pad.



"Uh huh," he said when she was finished. "Well, that's pretty much what I
expected you would say."



"It is?"



"It is," he confirmed. "Of course your story is vastly different from the
story Sergeant Boxworth tells in her report.



She couldn't suppress a snort of disgust at these words. "You don't say?"
she asked sarcastically.



"I do," he said. "Shall I read to you from her report? It's quite an
interesting story."



"Uh... sure," she said, still waiting for the arms of some trap to spring
shut upon her. "Go ahead."



He gave a weary smile and pulled a neatly printed report out of her file.
"Well now," he said. "I'll paraphrase in the interests of time. Sergeant
Boxworth does go on and on when she's on a roll. She reports to me that
after interviewing both you and the suspect in question, she has concluded
that Deputy Mandy Barrington used a grossly excessive amount of force while
taking her suspect into custody on the day in question. She reports that her
information leads her to believe the forgery suspect attempted to give
himself up peacefully but you suddenly began verbally abusing him and pushed
him up against the wall. He then raised his hands in surrender but you took
out your pepper spray and shot him in the face with it. He then fell to the
ground in pain and fear, incapacitated from the spray. At this point you
took out your baton and began beating him about the body and legs. After
that you hit him in the back of the neck and slammed his head into the tile
floor several times, bloodying his nose. It is her recommendation that you
be immediately suspended from duty pending termination. She also suggests
that the results of the investigation be forwarded to the district
attorney's office for consideration of possible criminal charges and to the
federal prosecutor for consideration of possible civil rights violations."



Mandy was absolutely stunned as she listened to this account. Her mouth
dropped open in sheer surprise. Sure, she had known that Jo Ann was probably
going to embellish her report a bit, was going to try to exaggerate a few
things to make it sound worse than it was, but this... this was an out and
out fabrication. And a fabrication of the most horrible sort. Jo Ann's
report made her sound worse than the cops in the Rodney King incident. And
did this headhunter believe what Jo Ann had written? Was he really going to
suspend her from duty? Was he really going to send this to the DA's office?



"That's not... not what happened," she said. "That's a fucking lie! Tell me
you don't believe what she wrote, Nichols!"



Nichols looked a little uncomfortable. "Well..." he said slowly, "I don't
want to come right out and say I don't believe her. After all, you know who
she is and what she represents."



"What the hell does that mean?" she demanded, her shock now being replaced
by anger. "Either you believe her or you don't believe her."



"Let me explain, please," he said, holding up his hand in appeasement. "I am
not going to come out and say that Sergeant Boxworth is a liar, not with the
connections she has, not with my career in the balance."



"So you're going to burn me in order to advance your goddamned career?"



"I didn't say that," Nichols told her. "Please hear me out."



"I'm listening," she said.



"Okay, like I said, I'm not claiming that Sergeant Boxworth lied or
misrepresented anything. As far as I'm concerned, she did a bang-up,
impartial investigation into this incident and presented me with the facts
as far as she could discern them."



"But you're not burning me, huh?" Mandy spat.



"No," he said forcefully. "I'm not burning you. You see, despite what you
may think about us headhunters, we are not out to get you. When a case is
dropped in our laps, we investigate it as thoroughly as any detective in
this department investigates any case. We do not go into these things with a
pre-conceived notion. We simply cannot do that. Things have to be on the up
and up here. That's the only way we can do our jobs."



"Save your speeches for the academy class, Nichols," Mandy told him. "I've
been around a little too long for them."



He sighed, seeming to accept that she wasn't going to believe him no matter
how much he reassured her. "Okay," he said. "I won't try to change your mind
anymore. Let me just finish telling you what was done with this case. You
see, your side of the story and Jo Ann's side of the story are only the
beginning. They are statements, no more than that, and we give them about as
much weight as any cop gives an unsubstantiated statement, which is to say,
they only give us a starting point. As I told you, I'm a detective so I
treated this case as a detective should. I went out and followed up all of
the leads I could."



"And what leads are those?"



"Well, in this case there were only four of them. The first three were
simply more statements. I interviewed the suspect in question for myself and
found that his story did not quite match what Sergeant Boxworth said. His
facts were disjointed and vague. It seems that now that he's had a week to
stew in the county jail without benefit of his methamphetamine, he no longer
remembers exactly what the alleged facts that he and Boxworth agreed upon
were. So that's number one. Number two is that I interviewed your cover
officer, Deputy Powers. She wasn't present for most of the incident of
course, but what she did witness tends to back up your story instead of
Boxworth's. And number three, I interviewed the clerk who was on duty when
the incident occurred. Her statement is the one I gave the most weight to,
of course. She was an actual eyewitness to what occurred, and, unlike
Sergeant Boxworth or Deputy Powers, she has no stake in this thing, no
loyalties to uphold, no animosity to vent. What she told me pretty much
corresponds exactly with what you told me."



Mandy felt herself feeling a little better as she heard this. Could it be
that Nichols was telling the truth? That he really wasn't out to hang her?
She began to feel some hope.



"The most compelling lead I followed however," Nichols went on, "was not a
mere witness account of the event. No, this was good, solid evidence that
would stand up in a court of law and that convinced me indisputably that you
should be vindicated without recourse."



"Vindicated without recourse?" Mandy said carefully. Had he really said
that? Was he serious about it?



"Indeed," he said, giving a nod. "You see, that particular check cashing
establishment, like many of them, is just lousy with security cameras. I was
able to view the tapes from the time period in question and witness the
confrontation for myself from three different angles. Of course there was no
sound to go along with it, but one hardly needs sound to see that you did
nothing whatsoever to provoke the assault upon you. What I saw was as clear
a case of justifiable use of force as I'm ever likely to witness. The man
clearly rushed at you first, he clearly assaulted you without provocation,
and you clearly responded to the situation within department guidelines for
the use of force. You tried to verbally talk the man down first and, when
that didn't work, you used your pepper spray on him. When that didn't
completely incapacitate him, you used your baton, hitting him just like we
prescribe in training. When you finally achieved control of the suspect, you
stopped using force. In short, this was a textbook case of appropriate force
escalation and it is my intention to make a copy of this tape and send it
over to the academy to be used as a training tool on that very subject."



"Wow," Mandy said, her eyes wide now as she looked at Sergeant Nichols in a
completely new light.



"And so that's it," he said now. "I have your statement, which was the final
piece of the equation, and, as far as the department is concerned, this case
is closed. No disciplinary action of any kind will be taken against you. In
fact, I'm going to recommend they consider you for a meritorious service
award for single handedly taking a dangerous suspect into custody."



+++++



Thirty-five minutes later, Mandy emerged from the side door through which
she'd entered and walked back out to her patrol car. She sat down in the
driver's seat and started the engine, but she didn't drive away. Instead,
she simply sat there for a few minutes, her mind on overdrive, her emotions
in turmoil. Chief among the emotions was relief. Jo Ann had fired her best
shot at her and she had survived it. She was not only vindicated by the
headhunters, but was going to be given an award for what she did.



Closely following relief however was anger. Black, venomous anger of the
sort she'd rarely experienced in her life. That fucking bitch had tried to
get her fired! She had tried to get her charged with a crime! She had out
and out lied in an official report in order to accomplish this and, though
Nichols plainly knew she had lied and though filing a false report was both
harassment and a criminal offense in its own right, she was not going to be
chastised in any way for doing it. She was simply too well connected, swung
too much weight among the department brass. Though Nichols had enough balls
to disregard her statement, that was probably only because of indisputable
video evidence of what had really happened. He had no intention of going
after Jo Ann for what she did. He just wanted the whole thing to go away.
And what would have happened, she had to ask herself, if that check cashing
establishment had not had video surveillance cameras in it? What if Nichols
had only the witness statements to go by? Would things be a bit different
now? Would she perhaps be facing a suspension and a disciplinary hearing
right now? She thought that very likely. For all of Nichols' bluster about
how fair he was, she knew he took the path of least resistance in most
cases, that he would burn a cop in an instant to curry favor with the
friends of Captain Boxworth.



"That fucking bitch," Jo Ann said, becoming angrier by the second as she
thought this through. What would happen next time she tried to burn her?
What would happen next time if there were no video cameras to vindicate her?
She had no doubt that if Jo Ann had tried this once, she would try it again.
And maybe next time Mandy wouldn't be so lucky. Something had to be done
about this. For her own protection she needed to rein that bitch in and she
needed to do it in a way that would insure this incident would be the last.



She thought of the photos in her house and a smile formed on her face. She
hadn't wanted to do anything with them before, hadn't thought she was enough
of a bitch. But now the stakes had been raised, hadn't they? Now the
situation had escalated a bit, hadn't it? Yes, it certainly had. It was time
to put a stop to Jo Ann and perhaps to have a little fun doing it.



She picked up the department issued cell phone she carried on duty and
quickly scrolled through the list of numbers until she got to the one for
Sergeant Parable. She speed dialed it and it was answered on the second
ring.



"Hi Chad, it's Mandy," she said.



"Mandy," he said. "How are things going? Did you finish your interview?"



"I finished," she told him. "I've been released back to duty and cleared of
any wrongdoing."



Parable seemed to sigh in relief. "That's good news, Mandy. I told you those
guys weren't all that bad, didn't I?"



"You did," she agreed. "But anyway, how bad do you need me right now? Is the
district really busy?"



"Pretty slow at the moment, actually," he said. "Only three units are on
calls. Why do you ask?"



"Any chance I could take my lunch period now? I just remembered that I uh...
left something at home that I need to take care of real quick. I'll be back
as soon as I can."



"Sure," he said absently. "Take all the time you need. I'll make sure you're
covered."



"Thanks Chad," she told him, a smile coming to her face. "It shouldn't be
too long at all."



They said their goodbyes and she disconnected the call. She then dropped her
patrol car into gear and started heading for the freeway. She headed north,
toward Gardenia.





Continued in Part III

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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