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Introduction:

My plans for the Bascomb’s Landing P.D. come to fruition and so do some other plans.

CAHILL—Part 5 of 6 by Senorlongo

My plans for the Bascomb’s Landing P.D. come to fruition and so do some other plans.

>>>>>>

We’d told our guests to come around 4:00 for dinner at 6:30 so, of course, Daryl and Jasmine came at 4:15 and Dan and Marie a few minutes later with Lucy’s parents last at almost 4:45. I wondered silently how they’d feel if we made our announcement before they arrived. Jonathan was suitably contrite when they arrived. “I am so sorry, Lucille. Your mother was moving like mud going uphill.”

“Now, Jonathan,” she replied. “You know that isn’t true. My dress had a stain on it and I had to change almost everything. I’m sorry we’re so late, Lucille…Matt.” I hugged her and told her it was no big deal. Then she continued with a wry smile on her face. “I was wondering…is there some special reason why we’re all here?”

I couldn’t resist. “There’s no fooling you, Marylou. There is. I heard from my advisor at UNC and with a few minor adjustments my Master’s thesis will be complete. It’s the final step for my degree in Criminology.” I looked at Lucy and could see that she was barely holding back the giggles.

Then Jasmine stepped forward to say, “I thought we were celebrating my appointment to the City Council.”

“Not to mention,” Daryl chimed in, “Jasmine and I are officially engaged.” Everyone agreed that was a great reason for celebrating so there were hugs and kisses and hearty handshakes all around as I stepped behind the bar to make a few drinks. Nobody said a word when Lucy and I opted for ginger ale.

“Aren’t you having a celebration drink, Lucille,” her mother asked.

“I can’t, Mother. I’m pregnant.” That announcement was met by stony silence for a few seconds while it sunk

in then there was as much pandemonium as six people could make. Jonathan actually jumped for joy as Marylou, Marie, and Jasmine hugged Lucy, doing that jumping thing that women seem to enjoy so much. Finally, Ingrid appeared with trays of cold boiled shrimp and assorted canapés that featured several kinds of cheese, bacon, and caviar. I was sorely tempted to try them all, but instead I opted to kiss my bride.

Finally, Daryl walked up to hug me. “Nice going, bro; you are one lucky man.”

“And you’re not? You got yourself a fine woman in Jasmine. I wish you all the luck in the world.”

“I think I’ve had my share. I have you for my best friend. I have a dream job in a beautiful community and I have the love of an incredible woman. All I need are a couple of kids and a dog and I’ll be all set.”

“The dog I can help you with. The kids are your problem.” We shared a laugh at that as Lucy and Jasmine joined us. They must have been conspiring because they reached up to kiss us at the very same instant.

Just then my mother-in-law walked up to hug me for at least the fourth time. “I thank you every day for what you’re doing for our town, Matt. Now I have an even better reason. I’ve always wanted to be a grandmother with a couple of grandkids to spoil rotten.”

I knew she was kidding me so I played along. “I told Lucy that I wanted a dozen, at least.” Marylou laughed as Lucy elbowed me in the ribs. I grunted in mock pain, but leaned down to reassure Max that it was all in fun.

We had a great time and I did credit Daryl for coming up with the menu. My on-the-bone slice of prime rib was an inch thick yet so tender that I rarely had to use my knife to cut it. Whatever Lucy was paying Ingrid, it wasn’t anywhere near enough. She really was an outstanding cook. There was excitement in our conversation which was augmented by plenty of wine for Jonathan and three of the four wives. Lucy was pregnant and Daryl, Dan, and I were on call whenever we were not officially on duty. That’s the reality of small town police departments so only Coke or ginger ale for us.

Eventually, Jonathan asked about Monday’s Council meeting. “It went extremely well, Daddy,” my bride answered. “Asshole Carl Haynes was suspended as were the two police officers. Jeremy Haynes’ resignation was accepted. Jasmine was appointed to fill Carl’s term and she’ll be with us for at least a year until next Election Day. Matt gave us his budget requests for next year and he told us of his plans for the two city rec centers/police substations. I mentioned your generous offer of support. It turns out that there are two large parcels of land that would be ideal for the centers. All we’d need is thirty acres for each.”

“Thirty acres? What the hell are you planning to put up there?”

“In addition to the building we were thinking of several outside basketball courts and Mr. Ferguson suggested at least one field each for football, soccer, and baseball. You know we really need these facilities.”

Jonathan just shook his head then broke out laughing. “A word of warning, Matt; never underestimate my daughter, Lucille. Okay, have someone from the Planning Board get in touch with Morton Stafford and I’ll make it happen. Can I consider that my contribution to the project?”

“I think so, Daddy. Mr. Ferguson suggested prefab buildings that he thinks will cost us about $280,000 each so we should have enough to clear and grade the land. There are no wetlands or endangered species there unless the possum or the grey squirrel suddenly go on the list so I think we’ll be good to build once we get the permits.”

“Well, just don’t actually do anything until you have the money.”

“Daddy! I’m not a child, you know! I’ve been on the City Council for six years and, don’t forget that forty-five percent of that land is mine.”

“Here’s another warning, Matt,” Jonathan said while he was laughing. “Don’t ever let your daughter get an MBA. She’s been running me ragged for years.” Then he laughed some more and all of us joined him. I leaned to my left to kiss my wife’s cheek, but she turned her head, bringing her sweet lips to mine.

The party moved into the library once dinner was done. It was a cozy room and relatively small when compared to the rest of the house at only four hundred square feet with a large sectional in one corner and three upholstered armchairs around a long rectangular table with a granite top. Part of the sectional faced a large stone fireplace with partially-filled bookcases on the other three walls. Also here were photos of Lucy and her family. A large one from our wedding was prominently placed on the mantle. It was my third favorite room in the house after our bedroom (DUH!), and the kitchen. Our guests had taken the sectional so Lucy pulled me into one of the chairs before settling into my lap with Max sprawled on the floor at our feet. My in-laws and the two wives had drinks or wine while the rest of us continued our celebration with soft drinks.

There was spirited conversation about Lucy’s pregnancy, of course, but there was also a lot about the city and how it had changed over the years. Everyone agreed that my becoming Chief had had a positive impact on the community. I thanked everyone for their opinion, but commented that I thought that any experienced law enforcement officer could have done the same after Wilson’s lack of leadership.

“Maybe, Matt,” Jonathan replied, “but what’s really important is that you did what was needed and all of us in town know it. You’ve also initiated efforts to integrate the force which is only about seventy years overdue. I may own most of the town, but I haven’t been actively involved in its government for decades. I’ve found that for the most part it’s better that way.” I didn’t say anything, but I knew exactly what he meant.

The party broke up around ten and once Max had been put out I picked Lucy up, carrying her to bed. She laughed and Max woofed lowly as he capered all the way up the stairs. Skipping the shower, I placed Lucy gently onto the bed. We worked together to remove our clothes then fell together onto the cool sheet. Neither of us needed much encouragement. I was totally hard and she was thoroughly wet. My thick organ slid slowly into her tight opening until she pulled me all the way into her womanly core. “Dear God, Matt; you’ve made such a difference in my life over the past few months. You.ve made me a wanton woman. All I want to do is make the most delicious—the most intense—love with you all day.”

“I’m glad, but I don’t think you’re wanton. If you were you’d want every cock in town and I know that’s not true.”

“No—my darling…my love—all I want is you and only you. I can’t believe I’m going to be a mother. It’s what I’ve wanted for years. I’m so happy.”

“I’m glad. Making you happy is my number one goal in life.” Then I looked down into Lucy’s eyes and I could see it was time to be quiet and make love. Silently, I drove into her forcefully enough to drive her crazy with lust. She began to squirm uncontrollably as she gradually lost control of her movements, her cunt rather than her brain running her body. I was mid-thrust when she came hard in what I hoped would only be her first time. Fortunately, my strength and weight held her in place until she was able to return my thrusts again. Twice more she came—the final just a whisper—as she whispered to me, “Please, Matt—you’re going to kill me if you don’t cum soon.”

That was all I needed to hear. I exploded as though someone had pulled my trigger, my cock erupting five times before my thrusts began to pump semen from her vault. I knew then that the bed would need changing before we drifted off to sleep. I leaned down to kiss Lucy and I realized that she had passed out so I pulled out and walked quickly to the bathroom, returning with a large bath sheet. I placed it onto the floor near Max’s bed then I carefully placed Lucy on top of it. Max tilted his head as if to ask what was going on, but he never moved as I covered my love then stripped the bed and remade it. After placing her carefully I joined her, chuckling as she snuggled up closely onto my body. I kissed her head gently then joined her in the soundest sleep.

>>>>>>

The next six weeks were calm and as relaxed as police work could be. Almost all of our current officers had met the performance standards I’d set, even the marksmanship. Those who hadn’t had decided to retire. They were all older men with twenty or more years of service. Then, on a Monday morning, Paul McCormick phoned. “Matt, how’d you like to see how your students are doing in the Academy?”

“Why don’t you just tell me? That way I’ll save at least half a day and you won’t have to buy me lunch.”

“You always were funny. How’s the wife?”

“She’s about two months pregnant and we’re thrilled about it. Thanks for asking. What’s the real reason for your call, Paul? You must have something better to do with your time.”

“Okay, you’re right—I do have another motive. Have you given any thought to joining the National Association of Chiefs of Police? Wilson was a member.”

“That’s hardly much of a recommendation considering he’s likely to spend ten or more years in prison.”

“Okay, that was a bad example. There are lots of us who participate. I’m on the program committee for our next annual conference and the committee asked me to talk to you about that big drug bust you led. They’d like you to be our keynote speaker, and before you say no, the conference is going to be in Vegas. You can leave the wife at home and have a ball with the boys.”

“If I decide to go I’ll be taking the wife, assuming that she’s physically able to travel then. As for having a blast with the boys, I’ve never found that to be terribly appealing—not even in the Navy, but I will meet with you to discuss it after I first talk about it with Lucy.”

“Fair enough; how’s next Tuesday for you? Say around ten at the Academy headquarters?” I agreed and returned to work. I had finished my budget meetings with the City Council and they had given me almost everything I had requested. They did balk at buying a new Barrett .50 caliber sniper rifle with a Leupold M4 scope at just over $9,600 state bid price. I had asked what would have happened at George’s Menswear if I hadn’t been available. My rifle and scope locked up in my gun safe wouldn’t have helped at all.

“We don’t have many cases like that, Matt,” one of the Councilmen said. “In fact, that’s the only one I can even remember.”

“I’m sure you’re right, Don, but times are changing. We may have taken down a big drug ring, but they will be replaced within six months and, even if they’re not, drugs are still available in any big city. All we need is one drug crazed loony with a gun and we could have a big problem. How many lives are we willing to gamble with? You can’t build a house without a hammer, you know.”

He laughed. “I am a carpenter by trade, as I’m sure you know.” I did know that, but my arguments went nowhere so I retreated diplomatically. Of course, I knew I wouldn’t get everything I wanted. Lucy was sympathetic on the drive home, telling me that she had tried her best, but there were limits to how much she could do. She did try to make it up to me in the shower and later in bed and she did a really good job, but I was always worried about public safety. That’s a police officer’s job.

>>>>>>

Paul met me outside the Memphis Police Academy entrance with a strong handshake and a hug. We walked together with Max into the building and out the back door to a small grandstand where we watched as candidates took their turns at what I always called the “shooting gallery” in which figures appear suddenly in doorways and windows and the cadet has to decide to shoot or not based on an instant’s recognition.

We watched six cadets go through the course and all made some mistakes. Of course, the track changed every time so each cadet had to be on his or her toes. I was pleased to see that Aimee Johnstone, Pastor Michaels’ niece, did very well on what Paul told me was her first experience. We retired then to the cafeteria for lunch, but only after I accused Paul of being a really cheap bastard.

After lunch we walked with the cadets—forty eight of them—to the firing range where Paul had set up four fruits on a saw horse at what he claimed was fifty yards. “You might think it’s impossible to hit these at fifty yards, but I’ve seen Chief Cahill do it dozens of times when we were U.S. Marshals together.”

I turned to face the potential officers. “I tell our officers that shooting is nothing more than practice and concentration. Of course, you have to practice the right techniques or you’ll fail repeatedly with no chance of improvement. You also need to know that the bullet will start to fall as soon as it’s out of the muzzle. How far will it fall will depend on the distance to the target and its muzzle velocity.” Holding my pistol up I explained, “This is a .44 Magnum—a Colt Python, what many shooters consider to be the best handgun ever made. It should be for what it cost me. It is not a pistol for everyone because it’s very heavy and it kicks like a mule as you will soon see.” I loaded the cylinder then laughed.

“My friend Chief McCormick is cheating here because I usually do this at fifty yards and I can see that the targets here are at least seventy-five, but that’s okay. I need to make a slight adjustment. At fifty yards the bullet from this gun will fall about an inch and a half. At seventy-five it will be almost double because it’s a matter of acceleration not steady speed.” I closed the cylinder and repeated, “Practice and concentration. Arms straight but relaxed. The red dot on the front sight exactly in the bottom of the ‘V’ at the rear and aiming above the center of the fruit. Pull the trigger gently while exhaling, like this.” I fired and the cantaloupe disintegrated. I followed in short order with the apple and the plum before asking Paul what the final fruit was.

“That’s a cherry tomato from my garden,” he said laughing. I had holstered my weapon before speaking to him so I drew quickly, raised my weapon as I pulled the hammer back to full cocked position. I had only aimed for a second when I pulled the trigger and the fruit disappeared in a puff of red smoke.

“The trick here is to find a point beyond the target that you can aim at. I did that when I was aiming at the apple and plum. Then it was just a matter of finding the same spot again, relaxing, and firing.

“I really hope that you never have to fire your weapon, but you need to know that you can if necessary and that you have confidence that you’ll hit your target. Most of the time your target will be fifty feet or less away and you’ll hear your instructors tell you to aim at the body mass. That’s excellent advice. Aiming for the torso is your best bet. You’ll also be told to shoot at least three times. If someone is out there trying to kill you or some innocent person, forget all the bullshit about disarming or just wounding him. The only real choice is to kill the bastard before he kills you or some hostage”

“That’s excellent advice, Matt. Would you shoot at a regular target for us?” I agreed and a silhouette of a man with concentric circles on his torso was removed to fifty feet until I told the Range Master to move it back to one hundred. I emptied the cylinder, reinserting the two unused cartridges along with four from my belt. I was given the “GO” signal once my ear protection was in place. My thumb slid the safety off as I brought the pistol up to the horizontal and I began firing as soon as my left hand had joined my right on the grips.

A revolver like a .44 Magnum has such a strong recoil that the barrel is forced upward and must be returned to horizontal after every shot. I’ve done this so many times that my motions are second nature by now. I flipped the cylinder open as soon as I had taken the last shot. My left hand found the speed loader in less than a second and I had reloaded and closed the cylinder only an instant later. All told, I had taken eighteen shots and reloaded twice in less than ninety seconds. The target showed eighteen closely grouped holes near the center of the target.

“I have probably taken twenty thousand shots with this pistol over the past dozen years. I spent every spare second practicing both shooting and reloading while an MP in the Navy. I couldn’t do it as frequently when I was a Marshal because I was often on assignment out of town or even out of the state. As important as shooting practice is, it is every bit as important to practice with your other weapons like your baton, and—in my case—with my dog. I’ve trained Max to do everything a human partner can do…and more. Not only can he respond to my commands, but he is capable of using his own judgment. I’m sure you question that, but my experiences with him have proven it many times. He took down an armed robber at a diner in Bascomb’s Landing in less than ten seconds by biting the man’s wrist and shaking his head. Two minutes later he was playing with two little girls he had played with earlier. Later when deputy sheriffs rushed in and one of them got too close to me with his drawn gun Max broke away from the kids and was ready to attack. He would have had I not stopped him. The good thing about a dog is that I can call him back. You can’t do that with a bullet.” I stopped then and Paul asked if there were any questions. The next thirty minutes were spent asking everything from how old Max was to what kind of grips did I have on my pistol.

“You won’t find these too often. I made them myself from a piece of black walnut my uncle gave me. He had an old tree in his yard that split in a big storm. It must have taken me ten tries before I finally began to get it right. I was tempted to use a lacquer or a wax on it, but lacquer can make the wood sticky and neither sticky nor slippery is desirable on a pistol grip so the only thing on them is the natural oil from my hands.”

After that I spent the next thirty minutes helping the cadets shoot. I was especially amazed at the accuracy Aimee Johnstone exhibited. When I asked her she explained, “My uncle Anthony taught me to shoot. My father disappeared when I was two and my mom is in prison for burglaries she committed while she was addicted to crack cocaine. Uncle Anthony and Aunt Sonya took me in. We live on a small farm and sometimes we had to rely on rabbits or squirrels or raccoons for meat and we always had to deal with rats in the barn. I shot them too…still do on occasion.”

“Just keep in mind that there’s a huge difference between shooting an animal and shooting a human being. I explained my reactions after shooting the man who had taken George hostage. “My reactions vary on the circumstances,” I told her loudly enough so others could hear. “I had no reaction when I had to kill a drug runner because he was shooting at me—trying to kill me—but I wanted the hostage situation to end peacefully and I felt that I had failed.” I left with Paul then to discuss my speech. I had been reluctant when I mentioned it to Lucy, but she was thrilled.

“It’s a chance of a lifetime, Matt. Everyone will know who you are.”

“Maybe, but that’s not necessarily a positive thing. It’s in four months. Do you think you’ll be able to come with me?”

“Of course, silly, but I’ll check with Dr. Murphy if that will make you feel better.” It did so I began to work on my remarks immediately. Rather than play the hero I decided to downplay my role, knowing that the audience of experienced law enforcement officers could read between the lines. It took a while, but after almost a month I recited it for Lucy and she approved, telling me that she loved my special surprise. That had taken a bit of research on the phone. Finally, I was done with it and, after reviewing my notes and practicing for weeks I was ready.

>>>>>>

The Memphis Police Academy takes twenty-two weeks to complete so the graduates would be ready to join the force only three weeks before the conference. I spent a lot of time with Daryl, Dan, and D’Anthony—a lieutenant I had hired away from Nashville—to review who we wanted to serve as training officers. And what shifts to use them on. All officers would eventually work every shift, changing every month. Despite a quality experience at the Police Academy new recruits still had a lot to learn so picking their training officers would be a critical step for them. Perhaps the most critical step would be getting the officers to agree to the added responsibility. I relied heavily on Dan for that.

Making arrangements for travel with Max wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. Jonathan just rented an executive jet. Getting Caesar’s Palace to accept him was harder, but once again my father-in-law’s influence prevailed.

We left from Memphis on Sunday morning, arriving at McCarron around noon. We had no trouble getting a cab at that hour even with Max, but the bellmen were terrified even when I had told Max to heel and we walked into the cavernous lobby. I paid for everything on my personal credit card—the city reimbursing my expenses once I was back at work.

After registering for the conference and getting my ID and lanyard, we wandered around the casino and Lucy kept Max at heel the entire time. There was immediate shock and surprise from the other patrons, but that evaporated once they saw how well behaved and trained Max was. We returned to our room at four to shower, shave and dress and then went to the ballroom. Lucy and I entered through the center door as I told Max to SIT and STAY. Lucy and I then proceeded down the center aisle to a table off to the right that was reserved for the dignitaries and the keynote speaker—me.

Paul was there waiting for us and he greeted Lucy then me, asking where Max was. “He’s here, but he’s waiting outside. I’m sure you’ll see him in a bit. We sat and I took notice of the stage. As I had been told it was only four feet above the main floor. Lucy and I ordered Cokes while salads were placed at each seat.

Dinner was pretty much what I expected—a decent tossed salad with ranch dressing followed by chicken breast, stuffing, and mashed potatoes along with string beans. Dessert was a chocolate fudge cake covered with chocolate sauce with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. I’m not a big fan of chicken unless it’s southern fried, but the food was okay and I ate it, especially when Lucy reminded me that we had missed lunch. Once the coffee and tea was served the organization’s president stepped to the podium for some introductory remarks. Then he introduced Paul as the chairman of the program committee.

“Thank you, Fred; it is indeed a pleasure to introduce an old friend and colleague. Matt Cahill is currently the Chief of Police in Bascomb’s Landing—a small city in southwestern Tennessee, but I think that all of us already know that, either from the conference literature or from the national news. Matt joined the Navy after high school where he became a military police officer once he had completed basic training. After four years he left the Navy to study Criminology at the University of North Carolina, earning a Bachelor of Science degree in three years. He then became a United States Marshal where he had one of the highest arrest records in the history of the service. I will tell you that he was the best partner I ever had as a Marshal. He left the service about six months ago to take his current position. I’ve asked Matt to describe his involvement in stopping a multi-million dollar drug ring after only six weeks on the job. It is my distinct pleasure to introduce my very close friend, Matt Cahill.”

I stood and, after kissing Lucy’s cheek, walked up the steps to my right, stopping to shake hands with Paul, hugging him in the process. “Thanks for the great intro, Paul. It’s nice to know that I was your best partner when we were Marshals. Unfortunately, you only tied for my second best with Daryl. Daryl Evans is now my second-in-command at Bascomb’s Landing.” I waved my hand to one of the employees at the rear of the large room as I raised the whistle to my lips. After two short blasts he opened the door and hastily stepped out of the way as Max tore down the aisle, leaping up onto the stage where he stopped quickly at my side.

“Yes, my best partner for the past six years is my dog, Max. Actually, his name is Maximilian von something that I can never remember. Max is smarter than a lot of the people I’ve met during that time and as you can see he’s looking around the room for my wife, Lucy.” I bent at the waist and pointed to her. Lucy waved and Max relaxed, sitting to my side.

“Okay, now let me tell you how I engineered the destruction of a major drug ring that had plagued our area for years. It all began when I got lost. I had to detour off I-40 west of Memphis and between the darkness and the heavy rain it was all I could do to see the road. I drove until I saw lights in the parking lot at Lulubelle’s Diner in Bascomb’s Landing, Tennessee. The woman inside offered me her couch for the night in return for a ride to her mobile home. As you can see I’m pretty big and her couch was pretty small—more a loveseat than a couch--so she told me I should just sleep with her. That alone should tell you everything you need to know about the woman who is now my wife. I wound up staying with her for more than a week until the weather cleared up. On the Friday Max and I were in the local diner when two gunmen tried to pull a stick-up. Max took one and I took the other. I had mine handcuffed in a minute and Max had broken eight bones in the man’s hand, wrist, and arm in a lot less time. No shots were fired and none of the fifty customers and staff was injured. It was the following day when I learned that the woman who had taken me in was Lucille Bascomb. Right—Bascomb as in Bascomb’s Landing.

“On Sunday afternoon Max and I were invited to her parents’ weekly party on their spacious patio where I noticed that the bartender was spending an awful lot of time down behind the bar.” I heard a few chuckles then so I continued. “I can see that several of you also know what was happening. I told Lucy’s father after dinner that he was being victimized and—sure enough—we found a bunch of empty bottles with all kinds of handwritten fancy brand labels on them. He was pouring the good stuff into the empty bottles and serving cheap junk to the guests.

“Now we get to the first good part. Once we were in the study he told us that he was working for one of the city’s police officers and that his roommate at Memphis University had bought drugs from him, too. At this point I was still with the Marshals Service, but Lucy had asked if I might consider settling down there if I could get a good job. She told me I could interview for the Chief’s position. Once I had the job I phoned Paul for advice. He steered me to a state attorney and the state police took over the investigation because I’d had a run-in with the cop in a restaurant and I didn’t want to be seen when a drug buy was observed and recorded. That could easily have messed up the entire deal.

“The state police were able to get video and audio of the drug buy and from that they got a warrant to bug the house where the cop and his parents lived. They overheard plans for a major drug buy from a cartel in Mexico. The only problem was that there were a number of voices and they couldn’t identify any of them. This led to the one part of the investigation that I really regretted. My wife has lived in the city all of her life and she knows hundreds if not thousands of people. She and I drove to Memphis on a Sunday morning with my lieutenant, Daryl Evans, to listen to the recording. That was the first time we realized how big this case was going to be.

“On the tape we heard Jeremy Haynes, the patrolman I mentioned earlier; his father, Carl Haynes, the chairman of the city council and his wife; Gil Parsons, another city patrolman; Stan Irwin, a lieutenant in the P.D.; and Joe Wilson, the recently retired chief of police.” I hesitated then because of the reaction of many in the audience. I even heard several say, ‘Holy shit,’ ‘What the hell?’ and ‘Good God!’ among other remarks of amazement.

“It was during this meeting that I first heard their plans and we began to plan our raid. There are several packets of paper on your tables. I’m sure that most if not all of you realize that. The top sheet shows an aerial view of the Bascomb Quarry. This is an old and obsolete mine that is enclosed by an eight-foot high fence topped with razor wire.” Using a red laser pointer I showed each feature on a large screen behind me. I described each step in detail and my audience must have found it interesting because there was total silence in the room.

I told about arresting Stan Irwin first and taking him to the state police staging area. Then I described how Daryl and I had sneaked up on Parsons and then how we had sealed the entrance with the two huge ore trucks. “Everything about these trucks is huge; each one weighs more than 500,000 pounds and with their beds tilted back any attempt to ram them would just result in sliding up the ramps they made.”

Next I described the actual raid, shooting the Mexican who had tried to kill me, capturing Carl and Mrs. Haynes and how Daryl baited Jeremy Haynes into a “fight.” “It wasn’t much, but it did get Haynes out of the warehouse and into custody.” Once I was done I asked for questions. There was no shortage as I answered their queries for almost an hour. The final question was about the type and quantity of drugs.

“That’s a good one. There were just over 500,000 tablets of Oxycontin and twenty kilos of pure uncut cocaine. There was also more than a ton of marijuana baled in plastic. We also confiscated the $1,250,000 in cash which was the payment for the drugs. I’ve learned that all of those charged in this matter have pled guilty in the hope of leniency. However, I have also been told that the minimum sentence will be twenty to fifty years plus heavy fines—millions-- and there is still the matter of income tax evasion to be resolved.

“That concludes my prepared comments, but I’d like to know if any of you were paying attention to Max while I was speaking. He knows that he is close enough to me that he can protect me, but he has never once taken his eyes off my wife since I pointed her out. He has been in lots of restaurants so he knows what servers are supposed to do, but if anyone were to hurt Lucy he’d be on him in a second.

“Thanks for your kind attention and if you should think of any additional questions I’ll be around for the next four days and I’ll be pleased to answer them for you. C’mon, Max.” I walked off the stage to my seat next to Lucy who greeted me with a big juicy kiss before hugging and petting Max. There were a few remarks by the organization’s president who thanked me again for an excellent presentation. He finished by commenting about Max. “I can understand why Max is such a good partner. Since you trained him while you were a Marshal I would have thought he would be government property.”

I stood again to reply. “He was until I bought him. My commander told me to leave him in his office when I resigned. Unfortunately, Max refused to follow his orders. He wouldn’t even move from the spot where I left him until the commander gave up. He came to me as soon as I snapped my fingers to call him. He will follow some directions from my lieutenant who he knows well and from my wife who he really loves, but that’s it.”

I held Lucy’s chair as she rose and we walked out of the ballroom. I shook a lot of hands and received some pats on my back until one chief from a major city on the east coast asked if there was a moral to my story. “I guess it would be that you never know where even the smallest situations can lead so it’s a good idea not to ignore them. In this case a little attention to an insignificant concern led to breaking up a big-time drug ring that had accumulated more than twenty million in profit over only four years. That money is in the Caymans, but it will be confiscated before we return home.”

“Once again…great job.” He shook my hand again and we went our separate ways.

Lucy and I had reserved a small suite because we wanted to have a little room to relax. I had set up Max’s bowls in the small bar area knowing that neither Lucy nor I was going to drink anything other than water or soda. We cleaned up then went back downstairs to a reception that was being held by one of the major vest manufacturers. We took Max with us, of course, and had no problem getting him into the room with us. We met Paul and Steven Johnson, the Bascomb’s County Sheriff. My impressions from our prior meetings were that he was an efficient lawman, but a bit too political for my tastes. None the less, we had a cordial meeting talking with them and a few others who knew either Paul or Steven.

We left early—before eleven—to return to our room for a much needed rest. But first, we did the same thing we always did—we made the most incredible love with lots of touching and kissing and foreplay that got us so hot for each other that we were almost on fire. Lucy pulled me into her, surprising me with her strength.

Once I was deeply seated she held me in place with her legs around my back. “Afraid I’m going to run away,” I asked teasingly.

“Oh no; you’re not going anywhere except in and out of my puss. It’s the best exercise I’ve ever done…believe me!” I did. It was my favorite, by far. I gave Lucy two screaming orgasms by the time I finally came, drowning her pussy by the time I was done. Lucy lay beneath me with an angelic smile on her face when I kissed her and backed away. Her eyes opened suddenly as if in shock.

“I’ll be back. I have to take Max out.” I climbed into a pair of shorts and sandals then I grabbed one of the plastic bags I’d brought and my garden trowel, just in case. Fifteen minutes later I climbed into bed as Lucy squirmed into my body before kissing me and falling sound asleep seconds later. I lay on my back for several minutes reflecting on my life and how it had changed since I lost my way just a few months ago.

>>>>>>

The rest of the conference was pretty much what I expected. There were lectures on new scientific techniques and panel discussions on common problems like getting sufficient funding for equipment. I did appreciate one session on federal grants since that was something totally new for me. Mostly, I enjoyed the vendors’ booths and displays. I went through them with Paul while Lucy spent time in the expensive shops with Max. Only once had a clerk objected to his presence by grabbing Lucy’s arm, something I doubted she would ever do to a customer again. Lucy told me that Max growled and bared his teeth, but held back from anything more at Lucy’s command.

Paul and I were wandering aimlessly when we came across a shooting contest. He laughed as he told the vendor, “Just give him the prize now. He hit a cherry tomato at eighty yards on the first try with his pistol.” I took the pistol grip and checked out the laser on one of the booth’s drapes.

“It’s totally realistic,” the vendor told us.

“Does the shot drop the way a bullet does,” I asked.

“Um…no, but that’s the only difference. I can simulate shooting at any distance and I can make the target as big and as small as you’d like. It’s a great way to practice shooting.”

“Put the targets at 100 yards and make them apples. Can you do that?”

“I can and it will only take a few keystrokes.” When he told me to take ten tries I gave Paul a wry smile. Taking the pistol which, unlike mine, was as light as a feather, in both hands I aimed, exhaled, and pulled the trigger. Ten seconds later I had hit all ten targets, amazing the vendor.

“That’s the best so far. If you check back with me on Thursday afternoon I’ll let you know how you did.”

“What’s the prize?”

“First place is a new special edition .30-.30 lever action carbine from Winchester. It’s a beautiful rifle. I saw it before I left the showroom.” He took my name and position from the card on my lanyard and I gave him the P.D. phone number and address even though I thought that there would be plenty of chiefs who could match my shots. After thanking him, Paul and I continued to meander through the crowds. I did pick up a few give-away items like coasters, solar powered calculators, pens, Post-It Notes and key rings. They all went into a canvas bag I’d picked up at another booth. There was one booth where I could have putted for a new golf driver, but it was a sport I’d never found all that interesting so I stood by while Paul tried his best which unfortunately wasn’t very good. We did get a few good laughs out of the experience.

I did return to the shooting booth on Thursday afternoon shortly before taking a cab to the airport with Lucy and Max. The vendor representative recognized me immediately and congratulated me on my victory. I thanked him even though the last thing I needed was another rifle. I already had four in my gun safe. It was an impressive rifle when I received it. There was a solid brass plaque built into the stock with my name, the name of the conference and the words “Presented by Five Star Ballistic Vests, Inc., and Las Vegas, 2019" neatly engraved into the metal. I bought a horizontal wall mount for my office in our headquarters and hung it right behind my desk. Of course, I had to take a ration of grief from Daryl, but it was still my trophy.

>>>>>>

Chief of Police is an administrative job that involves entirely too much paper. Some days I must have signed my name two hundred times at a minimum. Thank God I had Lucy to help with my stress. Unfortunately, she had a difficult pregnancy—experiencing morning sickness almost every day during her second trimester. I told her this was it—no more kids; I hated seeing her suffer so much, but she just laughed it off. “This is an annoyance, but Dr. Murphy says that I’m healthy and that it will pass eventually. Matt, my love, this is a very small price to pay for having a family. I’m okay, really.” Then she pulled me to her, whispering, “Kiss me, Matt. Kiss me then take me upstairs and fuck the shit out of me.”

I looked at her and my face must have said a lot because she laughed as she replied. “I have heard language like that many times, you know. I even use the word ‘cunt’ now and then and I think this is one of those times when it’s appropriate. “Carry me upstairs and fuck the living shit out of my cunt. I could not possibly need a good fucking more than I do right now.” Then she batted her sexy eyes at me and I knew I was lost before she even whispered, “Please…pretty please!”

I lifted her easily and with the utmost care as she wrapped her arms around my neck, her lips nuzzling my neck, as I walked her up the stairs to our bedroom where I placed her gently on the bed. I was removing her loose blouse as I whispered, “Damn, but I love you so much. You’re such a beautiful person.”

“No, I’m not,” she wailed. “I’m fat and ugly.” She was almost in tears when I began to laugh.

“You’re neither fat nor ugly. You’re almost six months pregnant and as everyone knows, pregnant women have a special glow that makes them even more beautiful than they normally are.” I moved her blouse over her arms, dropping it on the floor, almost on Max’s head. My hands moved next to her bra. It soon followed the blouse to the floor.

“Matt,” she asked, “did you ever watch porn?”

I laughed again, howling this time. “You should already know the answer to that. First, I’m a guy; second, I spent four years in the Navy. Of course I’ve watched porn—probably not as much as some of the others, but I watched my share, why?”

“I wish my boobs were bigger like some of those porn actresses. They’re too small. I want you to love them.”

I silenced her with a long sloppy kiss before replying. “Lucy, you will never hear me complain about your breasts. I think they’re beautiful…just like you. You have a slender narrow frame and you’d look ridiculous with huge breasts, just like a lot of those porn stars. Plus, a lot of those artificial breasts look as phony as hell. You’ll never hear me complain about yours. They look perfect on you and I do love them.” I leaned forward to kiss her again then I suckled at each nipple.

“You are such a terrible liar, but I love that you said that.”

I tried to look as serious as I could when I responded. “I stand by my comment.”

Lucy smiled as she moved up to kiss me again then she told me, “I want the top.” I couldn’t get my clothes off fast enough. I watched closely as Lucy gripped my cock tightly as she rubbed it up and down her slit several times before rising up to place the head at her entrance. The rapture she was experiencing glowed from her face as my organ slid slowly into her womanly core. “I just love the way my cunt feels when you enter me, Matt. My whole body just tingles with excitement.” She had begun a subtle rocking motion even before she had finished the sentence. From then on she did nothing but grunt and groan as she worked up a real sweat riding me.

We were into it at least ten minutes when I felt Lucy’s body shudder. It was only a small one because Lucy never missed a beat, moving in perfect rhythm with me. The bedroom was cool, but Lucy was working my cock so hard that she was sweating profusely, her salty perspiration pooling on my abdomen. My wife’s face showed her concentration and her ecstasy as she moved forward toward her second orgasm. Past history making love with Lucy told me that she was getting close. Her hips squirmed and rotated on my organ and her eyes closed automatically as her cunt took control of her body.

Suddenly, she stopped mid-thrust before exploding, her back arching farther than I would have thought possible as massive spasms coursed through her body. Her movements alone were more than enough to push me over the edge and into the abyss that saw me shooting seven times into Lucy’s body. I was a hot sweaty mess when we came to rest and Lucy was no better. “Now, that’s the kind of fucking I really needed. Thank you, Matt—it was exactly what I needed. I’m a mess, but I love you even more for giving it to me.”

“I don’t think I’m any better off than you are, my love. Should we take a shower before we go to sleep?”

“I don’t think I could walk that far. Can you pull the blanket up?” I did and we went to sleep, even as I wondered how sticky we’d be in the morning.

>>>>>>

I was dealing with the bane of my existence—paperwork—just after 10:00 one morning when Sandra walked into the office. “It’s Ingrid on the phone, Matt.” I picked up immediately. Ingrid never phoned me and I doubted that she would unless there was an emergency.

“Ingrid! What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything is fine, but Miss Lucille is going into labor. Mrs. Bascomb is here with her and we have already phoned Dr. Murphy. You need to come home, but don’t rush because she’s many long hours away from delivering.”

“I don’t understand,” I said. “She’s not due for another month.”

“Tell that to your daughter,” Ingrid said as she laughed. I dropped everything and rushed out the door with Max at my heels. I couldn’t help myself as I sped down Main Street to Bascomb Lane, the private road where we lived. I skidded into our driveway and was out the door seconds later. Max ran into the garage ahead of me and up the stairs to Lucy’s side where he pushed his muzzle into her swollen belly. Lucy reached around her belly to pet Max as his head rested lightly on her thigh just as I reached the living room. Lucy was seated at one end of the couch and Marylou was at the other while Ingrid stood behind one of the chairs where Lucy’s overnight bag rested.

Walking over to Lucy I bent to kiss her, even as I asked, “Isn’t anyone concerned about getting to the hospital? Do we need to rush?”

Lucy pulled me down again for another kiss, this one even sweeter than the last, before replying. “Yes, darling, we do need to get to the hospital, but there’s no rush. My contractions are now about twenty minutes apart so Dr. Murphy says that actual delivery won’t be for many hours yet.”

“Yeah…okay, but you’re not due for another month.”

“Take my word for it, Matt. That’s just an estimate and if what I hear about the two of you making love is true that estimate could easily be a month off.”

I looked at Lucy as she shook her head. “I never said a word.”

“No, Matt—Jonathan and I can hear Lucy screaming most nights. I’ve told Jonathan that I’m jealous and that he’d better step up to the plate…or else!”

We were all laughing when Daryl rushed in. “Daryl’s here to take charge of Max,” I told the women. “There’ll be a really big problem with him if Lucy and I are at the hospital all night.” I put Max out to do his business while Daryl grabbed his bowls and food. I hotfooted it to the bedroom, returning with his bed in case Max had to spend the night with Daryl and Jasmine. I helped Daryl get Max into his patrol car, telling Max to obey Daryl. I knew he would. Daryl left a few seconds later after wishing Lucy and me good luck and asking me to call when I had some news.

I helped Lucy into the SUV as Marylou climbed into the rear seat. Fifteen minutes later I stopped at the entrance to the Bascomb County Hospital’s Emergency Room. They were ready for us—a benefit of having a police radio in my vehicle. I went in with Lucy while Marylou found a place to park. Another benefit was that I’d never get a ticket for illegal parking. Marylou rejoined us in the room and a few minutes later Jonathan walked through the door. They stayed with us until the nurse shooed them out to the waiting room and put me into a gown, hair net, and booties. I looked silly dressed like a pixie carrying a .44 Magnum.

“If those were white,” Lucy said with a laugh, “you’d look just like the Pillsbury Dough Boy.”

I couldn’t think of a witty retort so I leaned in for another kiss, something I’d never tire of. I sat in a chair and held Lucy’s hand while we waited for Dr. Murphy to check on Lucy’s progress. The waiting was interminable—even worse than any of the stakeouts I’d been on and some of them were so long that I’d had to piss into a coffee cup several times to maintain continuous surveillance.

Finally, around 5:00 p.m. Lucy’s water broke. She told me to grab some dinner—not in the cafeteria--while the nurses efficiently cleaned up the mess and notified Dr. Murphy—all within five minutes. I guessed then that it was the same as shooting—concentration and practice. After kissing Lucy again and taking her order for a large ginger ale with lots of ice I reluctantly left to see if Jonathan and Marylou wanted to join me. They did and we opted for barbecue; it would be quick and we could sit in the pleasant patio outside the restaurant.

They ordered pulled pork while I felt like brisket. We ate quickly, but enjoyed a delicious meal. Our waitress brought a large cup of icy ginger ale along with a refill of my un-sweet tea as she wished us the best. I realized then that the entire city knew that Lucy was in labor. I wondered then if everyone knew how she screamed during orgasm. I wouldn’t be surprised.

I walked into Lucy’s room with Dr. Murphy. After a brief examination she closed the door and spoke quietly. “Lucille, you’re dilated, but not enough. Do you remember that we discussed this possibility during one of your visits?” I recalled that conversation clearly. Lucy would have to deliver by C-section. That meant general anesthesia which could be dangerous, but it also meant that my wife would be spared the physical ordeal of giving birth. I signed the permission for the surgical procedure and ten minutes later a surgical nurse arrived to wheel Lucy down the corridor. I left then to speak with her parents.

I’m not much for praying, but—I swear to God—I prayed for Lucy and our daughter for hours. My mood was somber until Marylou came over to sit next to me and hug me. “She’ll be okay, Matt. Lucille has always been much stronger than she seems to be and she has the best doctors in the area.”

“Thanks, Marylou; I really appreciate your thoughts, but…I don’t know what I’d do without her.” A tear came to my eye as I envisioned a life without my love. Yes, I’d had an active life before Lucy when I was a U.S. Marshal, but it was a lonely one with only Max for companionship and my right hand for sexual release. It was an existence then. Now I had a life that was much more worth living.

We were there for more than two hours when Dr. Murphy, still in her scrubs, walked in. “Interested in seeing your daughter, Matt? She and Lucy are just fine. You should have heard her scream when she took her first breath.”

“Just tell me she looks like Lucy.”

“That, you’ll have to determine on your own. C’mon, I’ll show you where they are. Jonathan hugged me so tightly I could barely breathe and then he shook my hand several times while Marylou hugged me and kissed me. Me? I just took several deep breaths and thanked God for my blessings.

Lucy was resting with her head on her pillow and Melody Ann at her breast. Her name had been the subject of much disagreement until I put my foot down. Melody Ann was the name that Lucy wanted. I told my in-laws and everyone else to “shut the Hell up” about it. Case closed.

I couldn’t believe how tiny my daughter was—just six pounds and seven ounces, but—man, what an appetite. She suckled like there was no tomorrow. I wanted nothing more than to hold, hug, and kiss my incredible wife. Unfortunately, my in-laws beat me to it. Lucy showed her love in her eyes when she looked up to me just as I hoped she could see my love in mine. ‘I can’t tell you how much I love you right now, but it’s even more than I did before. You are the most incredible, the most wonderful….”

“Matt, shut up and kiss me. I already know how much you love me.” Then she looked down at our daughter—a real live human being we had created through our love for each other. Okay, our lust had a lot to do with it, too. I held my pinkie out to Melody’s hand and I was surprised by how tightly she gripped it. She finished feeding a few minutes later and Lucy burped her before the nurse took her down the hall to the nursery so Lucy could rest. I kissed her again just as her eyes were closing then I ushered Jonathan and Marylou out the door. I said good-bye in the parking lot then phoned Daryl and Jasmine before placing the call I wanted to make more than anything.

“Hi, Aunt Nell—I’ve got great news for you.”

“Does that mean I’m a great aunt now?”

“It does. Melody Ann was born about an hour ago by C-section. She and Lucy are doing well.”

“That’s great; would it be okay if we come over the weekend?”

“It sure would, Aunt Nell—I know that Lucy will be thrilled. I have to go now and pick up Max. He’s with Daryl now because I thought the delivery would be later. I’ll talk with you soon.” She ended the call just as I sat in the SUV. A moment later I was on my way to pick up Max. He was glad to see me and, as expected, he searched the entire house for Lucy once we were home. I tried to explain, but to no avail. He’d just have to wait. Lucy would be in the hospital for two days because of the surgery. I hated sleeping by myself. I missed Lucy’s touch and the sensation of her skin against mine.

Two days later after breakfast at the diner, Max jumped into the back seat, sitting there while I carefully placed Melody’s car seat behind mine. Max gave me a quizzical look, returning to the other side with his face out the window as I drove to the hospital about twenty minutes away. There was only one in the county so it made sense to have it centrally located. I parked illegally on the side of the circular main entry knowing that I wouldn’t be ticketed and that, with luck, I’d only be there twenty minutes at the most.

Lucy had Melody bundled up in her hand-knitted sweater and cap, a gift from her grandmother, and a woolen blanket wrapped around her body. I kissed my wonderful wife then grabbed her bag as the nurse wheeled my two women toward the door. I walked outside first to get the SUV then returned to take Melody from her mother. “You’re not going to put that baby in with that beast, are you,” the nurse exclaimed when she saw Max leaning out the window.

“Melody will never be safer than when she’s with Max,” Lucy told her. “He saved me from a lunatic at the diner and I know that he’s saved Matt several times.” She reached up to pet Max who was understandably excited at seeing Lucy again. However, his tail would have struck Melody had I not told him to SIT! Max turned then to me, noticing for the first time the tiny bundle in my hands. I placed our daughter carefully into the seat, securing the belts before taking her tiny hand into mine just as I had with Lucy months ago. Max sniffed then licked before turning his attention to Lucy who was taking her seat up front. I ran around the car to help her with the seatbelt and the door. We were on the road toward our home less than a minute later.

Daryl had jokingly offered me a police escort which I squelched in a second. However, we did pass six patrol cars on the ten mile drive home. I drove past Jonathan’s Escalade into the garage where I released Max’s door before helping Lucy into the family room. Max dutifully sat at her feet with his head on her thigh while I returned for Melody, placing her gently onto Lucy’s lap. Max looked into Lucy’s face when she spoke to him. “Max, this is Melody. We’re counting on you to protect her. She’s totally helpless now so she needs you as much as we do…probably more.” I watched silently as she spoke to Max and it was clear that he understood. He turned to face away from Lucy and there was no question that he was on guard when he sat. I’d seen him like this dozens of times in the past.

>>>>>>

We had plenty of company over the weekend. Daryl and Jasmine were first, beating my in-laws by only a few minutes. I could see Daryl’s future as soon as Jasmine held our daughter. I opened the door about thirty minutes later to greet Aunt Nell and Uncle Chuck. We could have had several hundred visitors, but I had put out the word that Lucy needed to rest. I insisted that she lie down for a nap both morning and afternoon while I handled the entertainment.

We knew immediately when Melody was waking up. Max was up, running down the stairs to get me then back up to Melody’s bassinette which we had placed in our room until she was able to sleep more than a few hours at a time. I helped Lucy to sit up then brought our frequently screaming daughter to her mother’s breast.

>>>>>>

The weekend flew by and soon it was Monday morning—time to return to work. Melody had awakened early so after changing and feeding her I kissed Lucy and dressed for work. Being in early enabled me to get through a lot of the accumulated paperwork. Checking the activity reports for each of the shifts over the past week was number one, just as it was every day. That was my way of keeping tabs on all of the problems the officers had experienced the previous day, or now—the previous five. I saw a disturbing pattern after checking the first three days.

Turning to my computer I checked on all of the problems at The Four Aces—a bar and club at 1111 Highway 234 and just inside the city’s boundaries. “Too bad,” I thought. Just another hundred yards and the sheriff would have had the problem instead of me. As expected, there was a long history of complaints that had gotten worse over recent weeks. I was making a few notes when Daryl strolled in. He passed me a jelly donut and cup of coffee from the coffee shop down the street before asking what I was doing.

“Just checking up on The Four Aces.”

“That black joint up on 234?”

“That’s the one. We’ve had seventeen complaints in the past three months alone—brawls, three stabbings, two reports of shots fired, and a couple of drug busts. What a cesspool.” I called outside the office to Sandra, asking her to get Martin Albright, the City Attorney on the phone. Ten minutes later I had an appointment to see him at 10:30. I learned then what a really smart man my father-in-law was. I called Daryl into the office once I had returned.

“So…we don’t need a warrant?”

“Not if we don’t arrest anyone. Under the city ordinances we can enter any business considered to be a public nuisance, and if any business falls into that category it’s The Four Aces. I want to raid the place tomorrow night just after midnight. We’ll use second shift officers and let’s make sure we have some of the new ones with us, especially Aimee Johnstone in case we have to frisk any female patrons. I want everyone in vests and I’ll speak to Mulvaney down in the armory for enough shotguns for everyone. Let’s make sure we have plenty of plastic handcuffs just in case we need them.”

“How many officers, do you think?”

“A dozen, I think. We’ll need two outside the rear entrance and four in the parking lot to handle any gawkers or patrons we have to arrest. I’ll try to avoid that by telling everyone to throw anything illegal onto the floor.”

Daryl gave me an unbelieving look, but I had it covered. We spent an hour deciding who we wanted on the raid. Everyone on shifts two and three were going to get three hours of overtime. I explained what I wanted to the second shift officers, stressing the need for confidentiality. Lt. Dan Powell briefed the third shift officers and I spoke to Mulvaney to ensure that we had plenty of shotguns and ammunition. I also checked to make sure we’d have someone on duty to man our three new cells.

Once I had identified three storerooms that we could clear due to computerizing our records the City Council approved spending seventy-five thousand dollars of our recovered funds from the big drug bust for bars, sliding barred doors, and barred polycarbonate windows for each of the rooms. Adding basin/toilet combinations and plumbing was easy. I had placed five of the officers who had failed to qualify on the new standards down there, ordering Mulvaney to assist during the day shift when necessary.

We eventually decided to use personnel from the third shift for the raid with the exception of Aimee Johnstone and her training partner because we needed a female officer and Aimee was it for now. Second shift officers would continue on patrol for an additional three hours. This made the most sense; third shift officers would be fresh and alert, much more so than those ending their shift. Daryl, Dan, and I laid out the preparations at inspection that morning, insisting that everyone involved arrive at headquarters by 11:00 that evening.

We were on site by 11:45 with two officers and a sergeant stationed at the rear exit and four officers and Lt. Powell controlling the front. Daryl and I would lead the remaining eight into the bar. All of them were armed with Ithaca 12-gauge shotguns as well as their pistols and batons. I was armed with my regular pistol, baton, and my deadliest weapon—Max—as I pushed my way through the door. The noise, other than the jukebox, disappeared as soon as Max and I could be seen by the crowd. We approached the bar as my team spread around, shotguns at the ready. The owner/bartender was wiping his hands on a filthy towel as he approached. He hadn’t gotten a single word out of his mouth when Daryl pulled the jukebox’s plug out of the socket.

“Um…what’s going on, Chief?”

“I’m closing you down, Mr. Bolt, right after I search all of your patrons.”

“You can’t do that. I run a clean joint.”

“Clean joint, eh? How many times have my people been here because of a brawl or an overdose in the past month? I could understand maybe once, but we’ve had to send officers here at least twice a week on average and every time the people involved have been high on coke or meth or heroin. That’s why I’m closing you down right after everyone here is searched. Now, I have no desire to actually arrest anyone tonight and I won’t if everything illegal winds up on the floor. However, if we find anything illegal on your person when you’re searched you can plan on spending at least a few days in jail and probably more.” I passed a set of papers across the bar to Bolt as I continued, “I’ve taken the liberty of printing the applicable sections of the city ordinances that apply to my actions tonight. Take a careful look at Section 54, Part 4, paragraphs C through G.”

By then Daryl had worked his way behind the bar to take possession of Bolt’s pistol. He lifted it up to show me so I returned my attention to the patrons. “Everyone at the bar—stand up and back away. Drop anything in your pockets, underwear, boots, or wherever onto the floor. That means drugs, weapons—anything that could get you into trouble. If you drop it onto the floor you’re getting a free pass tonight.” Apparently, most of them believed me because several knives, packets of drugs, and even a .38 revolver found their way to the floor. Then I had them step back to the bar where they were searched.

Max and I approached one booth where I had noticed that the occupants’ behavior was even surlier than I had anticipated. Sure enough, I got some lip from a short stocky guy with a shaved head and scruffy beard. “You got no fuckin’ right to treat us like this. I have half a mind to stomp your ass and I would except you got a gun and a big dog. Without them you’d be toast, Muthafucka.”

“And, you would be…who?”

“I’m DeAnthony Shutt. I see you brought all your Uncle Tom’s with you tonight. That’s just what we need—a bunch of fuckin’ Oreo’s playin’ po-lice man.”

“Oh yeah—I’ve heard of you except the warden at Joliet called you ‘Shit Chute’ and I must say the name fits. After what the warden told me I thought you’d be a lot more, but now I can see you’re just another big mouth con. So, tell me—ever have any special training like judo or karate or kendo?”

“No, why the fuck you think I would need that?”

“I spent four years in the military police with the Navy so I had the same hand-to-hand combat training that they give the Seals. Unfortunately, I am the Chief of Police and I have to exercise restraint and set an example for the community.” I would have gone on, but I was called to the bar by one of the new black recruits.

“Chief, this guy has something in his crotch.”

“No problem, Officer Gore; either he’ll take it out or Max will.” I snapped my fingers and Max moved up between his legs.

“Okay, man…okay; I’ll get it. It’s just a knife I carry for protection…that’s all.” He reached into his pants and pulled out a switchblade with a six-inch blade. Officer Gore cuffed him and led him outside to one of the waiting patrol cars. Dan Powell carefully placed him into the rear seat and Gore returned to the bar. Table by table people were led to the bar and on the way they dropped all kinds of drugs and paraphernalia. There were four more knives and two pistols that were taken by one of the officers, unloaded, and placed into a tote bag.

Finally, we got to the booth with Shutt and company. That was when one of the experienced officers whispered into my ear. It was music—sweet music. I pulled Shutt out of the booth and I wasn’t too gentle about it. Wedged into the bar I pulled his left hand behind him and applied my handcuff to his wrist. His right hand followed a second later. “You must really like Joliet, Schutt. You’re on parole and you’re seated at a booth with two convicted felons. That’s two parole violations. Let’s see if you have any more.” I bent him over one of the stools and searched him carefully. I pulled two glassine bags with capsules in them that looked suspiciously like those we’d confiscated in the big drug bust we’d had a few months ago. Daryl bagged and sealed them as evidence. I also found a derringer in one of Shutt’s boots. Gore was smiling as he escorted Shutt out to the parking lot and jail.

We finished the searches less than an hour later then stood by until Mr. Bolt had locked the doors and set the alarms. There was a small crowd gathered so I told them that the bar was closed and would be until the next meeting of the City Council, at least. We returned to headquarters where we supervised the processing of Shutt and the other prisoner before setting them up in separate cells. My final act before going home to my wife and daughter was to tell the Sergeant in charge that Shutt was to have no visitors and was not to share the cell with anyone else. I’d handle his transfer tomorrow morning.

>>>>>>

My watch told me it was after 2:30 by the time Max and I walked into the house and up to our bedroom. I was surprised to see one of the bedside lamps on as we climbed the stairs. Lucy was sitting up, pillows fluffed at her back, when we entered the room with a fretting Melody in her arms. “She’s been fidgeting all night. I don’t know what to do.”

I stripped out of my uniform shirt and dropped my pistol and belt to the floor. Then I pulled a clean diaper out of the drawer, placing it on my shoulder. “Let’s try this,” I told Lucy as I leaned forward for a quick kiss, picking up my daughter and resting her head on my shoulder. A few seconds later I sat in the old wooden rocker that Lucy’s mom had given us. Slowly rocking had a magical effect on Melody. She quieted down almost immediately as I gently rubbed her back. I couldn’t see her eyes but I was pretty sure that she was looking straight into Max’s eyes. She gurgled several times when Max licked her hand and soon her breathing changed from ragged and shallow to slow, deep, and regular. I knew then that she was asleep.

I continued to rock her for another fifteen minutes before rising and laying her carefully in her bassinette. I was about to strip down for a quick shower when my phone vibrated. I knew immediately that there was a serious problem. “Cahill,” I said as a greeting.

“Chief, it’s Steve Dobbs. We have a problem. Biggers screwed up with the prisoner. Somehow he let Shutt out of the cell while he was alone and Shutt beat and overpowered him. He’s escaped and he has Biggers’ weapon.”

“Shit,” I said, not too quietly. “Okay, get EMT’s for Biggers if you haven’t done that yet then call everyone you can reach and have them come in. Let the Sheriff know, too. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” After ending the call I made another. “I’m phoning your parents. I want them to come over here for the night.” I would have continued, but Jonathan had answered his phone and, not surprisingly, his first words expressed concern for Lucy and Melody.

“They’re fine, Jonathan, but I need you and Marylou to come over here and bring one of your shotguns. We’ve had a prisoner escape and he’s armed and dangerous. He and I had a little problem at The Four Aces and it would be just like him to get his revenge on my wife and child. I’ll feel a lot better knowing you’re here. I could leave Max, but I’ll probably need him on the search.” After speaking for another few minutes he assured me that they’d be here in less than five minutes.

I explained to Lucy. “You heard part of it. I arrested a guy who was on parole at The Four Aces. Not only was he sitting in a booth with two convicted felons, but I found a switchblade and a pistol in his pants. Those are serious violations of parole so he was headed back to Joliet except for that idiot Biggers. We have rules about letting prisoners out of the cell when you’re alone. As many times as I’ve explained them, that’s how many he told me that he felt they were unnecessary. I wonder how he feels now. He’s looking at a lengthy suspension and if anyone is hurt or killed I’ll fire the son of a bitch.”

Max jumped up and ran down the stairs, but never barked. That told me that Jonathan and Marylou had arrived. After a quick greeting I took Max back to the garage en route to headquarters. I pulled out my vest and used the Velcro to fasten it tightly around my body. There were more than thirty officers in the lobby when Max and I walked in.

“Okay,” I began. “We have a black male approximately five feet eight inches tall and two hundred pounds. He has a shaved head and a scruffy beard. He’s on parole from Joliet with permission to be here in Tennessee, but not for long. Do we know what he’s wearing—jumpsuit or regular clothes?”

“He’s in a jumpsuit, Chief. His clothes are in ‘Property.’”

“Get his clothes so Max can smell them. I want two two-man teams to cover the Creek Bridge…vests and shotguns.” Then I had another thought. “Did he take Biggers’ vest?”

“Damn, he must have. Bob wasn’t wearing it when the EMT’s came.”

“That means shotguns and slugs. Don’t play any games with this guy. He was convicted of armed robbery and assault with a deadly weapon. Just don’t shoot any civilians.” I sent two veteran teams to blockade the bridge. I knew from personal experience with Lucy that it was the only way to cross the creek. The weather had been cold and the creek was wide enough to give someone hypothermia long before they reached the other side, even assuming that Shutt could swim. Shutt’s family was from the area so I was quite sure that he knew all about the creek and the problems crossing it.

I reviewed search procedures with everyone while we waited for Shutt’s clothes. Max, Aimee Johnstone, Daryl and I would follow the scent trail with teams of two every fifty yards. We’d keep in communication using the second channel on our radios, reserving the first for contacting headquarters. Sgt. Dobbs ran in with Shutt’s clothes and I held them in front of Max’s nose. He wasn’t a bloodhound, but all dogs have a sense of smell that is thousands of times more sensitive than humans. Max sniffed several times then trotted to the door. Once outside he circled around several times before walking at a good pace to the north, exactly as I had predicted.

Max kept his nose near the ground as he led us past the city garage and through the mostly empty parking lot to the neighborhood across the street. These were mostly small homes on small lots. The homes in this integrated neighborhood were clean and well cared for and I knew that everyone would be safe in bed at this hour unless someone had a long commute to Memphis or beyond. I was concerned that Shutt might try forced entry to a house, but Max kept us on the sidewalk until the road ended at the edge of a thick wooded area that stretched for more than a mile.

I repeated my earlier instructions about spacing and communications. We spread out, covering almost a quarter mile from end to end and strode carefully into the darkness. Like many wooded areas in the South there were mostly pines of varying sizes with small bushes like ferns or thorny vines in open spaces.

Thankfully, it was winter because we had some spiders here that were more than two inches long and webs that ran between trees. We had powerful LED flashlights that we were forced to use even though that meant that Shutt would be able to locate us once we were close to him. There’s an answer to that—a technique covered in every police academy. All flashlights were held out at arm’s length to the sides of our bodies rather than directly in front as most people would.

An hour later we were into the woods almost a mile when Max crouched down. I knew then that we were close to our quarry. I tapped Max and pointed him to the left. I did this for two reasons—first, to keep Max from being shot and secondly, to hopefully ambush Shutt from the side. I spoke into my radio just above a whisper. “He’s close by now…probably not more than fifty yards so be very careful and pay attention.”

We moved forward very slowly now and I kept Aimee Johnstone behind me and to my left—about five yards away, knowing that my brief interaction with Shutt would make me his prime target. Not only did I think that, but I was actually counting on it. My training in the Navy and in the Marshal’s Service had taught me exactly what to do. We had moved forward about twenty yards through an annoying field of vines covered with thorns that clung to our slacks with every step. I stopped briefly to show Aimee a small patch of orange cloth impaled on several thorns. Turning to Aimee I ordered her to turn her flashlight off. Daryl did the same on his side. I wanted all of Shutt’s attention focused on me as we moved forward.

I could see an anomaly ahead and slightly to my left. It was a thick-trunked oak tree right smack in the center of a small clearing. Moving my flash back and forth I could see nothing on either side or beyond the massive tree for twenty-five yards or more so I had a strong feeling that Shutt had taken shelter behind it. I’m never one to pussyfoot around so I called out, “Give it up, Shutt. We have more than thirty armed officers with us and you’ll never get away.”

“Fuck you, muthafucka. Your honkies may get me, but I’ll get you first. That’s a fuckin’ promise.” At that he stepped out from the left side of the tree, aiming Biggers’ pistol straight at me. “You talk a good game, muthafucka. Now let’s see how you die.”

As he raised the pistol I looked to my left and yelled, “NOW, MAX!” When Shutt looked to his right I rolled right—right into the thorny vines, pulling my .44 Magnum before hitting the ground. He fired repeatedly, but he was wide, missing me with all but one shot that struck my left bicep area as I drew a bead on him. But as I fired I heard two loud BOOMS—one to my left side and the other from my pistol. Looking up I saw blood spurting from two wounds in the middle of his chest—the two holes, one from a twelve gauge slug and the other from a .44 bullet, only an inch apart. Shutt’s face lost color as he looked down to see the red arterial blood pump out over his body just before he crumbled swiftly to the ground.

I felt Daryl pull me up as I holstered my weapon. My arms and face were covered with cuts from the thorns as I stood, slowly and painfully extricating my body from the vines. Aimee ran forward with her shotgun centered on Shutt until she was able to kick the pistol away and call for EMT’s. Our remaining team members formed a line showing the way for the medical tech’s. I sent them first to check on Shutt, but they knew immediately that he was dead. He was lying face down and the exit holes from the huge projectiles were a dead giveaway. Nobody could suffer that kind of damage and survive. I sent Daryl and the EMT’s to look after Aimee who was clearly in distress after killing a human being for the first time. My arm was covered with gauze and wrapped in a pressure bandage until I could get to the hospital.

“Daryl, take command here, please. Call the Sheriff about sending his crime tech’s to the scene. Take control of Aimee’s shotgun and my pistol. They’ll want to check them out. Also, call Lucy and let her know that I’m okay and on my way to the hospital. Then call Pastor Michaels and tell him about Aimee. She’ll need a lot of support even though this was clearly self defense for both of us.”

“Matt! DUH!! I know all that. You just go to the hospital and do what they tell you. I’ll take care of Aimee and the rest of this.” He patted me on the shoulder and pushed me toward the EMT’s who led me to their ambulance. I climbed in and they strapped me in place. Minutes later I was on the way. I only prayed that Lucy would stay at home because I knew she was still in recovery from her surgery.

Who was I kidding? I was in the room having my wound cleaned by a nurse before having it stitched when Lucy and her dad rushed through the curtain. “Matt! I was so worried when Daryl phoned. Look at you. You’re covered in blood.”

“Yeah, but you should see the other guy.” Oops, that was obviously the wrong thing to say because it was met with a steely glare. “Honest, Lucy; I’m okay. These are from a bunch of thorns I had to roll in so I wouldn’t get shot.”

“Then, what’s this?”

“Better my arm than my chest.”

“Why didn’t you shoot him as soon as you saw him?”

“Because I love my wife and daughter; I could have been charged with murder if I just shot him. The same goes for Aimee Johnstone. She also shot him once he opened fire. Suppose he decided to give himself up? We had to give him the chance. Yes, I got hurt, but it was self-defense. I’ll get a few days off to spend with my two loves instead of ten to twenty in the state pen. Anthony Michaels should be with Aimee now.”

Lucy looked down for a few seconds and there were tears in her eyes when she looked up. “I should know by now to trust your judgment, Matt. I’m sorry.” I just pulled her to me for a long kiss until the doctor arrived to sew up my arm. Funny, but the bullet’s entry was almost exactly where I had been injured the last time I had been shot. The angle was different because my arm was horizontal this time, making the entry wound longer and the internal wound worse. Still, I was sure I could get by with a sling for a week or so.

“What about Max,” I asked.

“Daryl found him caught up in a big thorn bush, but he’s okay. Daryl said he’d bring him home as soon as he gets done on the site. He told me that Max saved you even though he wasn’t there.” I explained why that was probably true. I needed the diversion Max gave me to get away from Shutt’s aim. The doctor finished the twenty stitches and the nurse gave me a couple of pain killers and two orders for additional meds before discharging me—the bill going to the city.

Jonathan drove us home and Lucy and I went to bed. Max greeted us at the door and followed us into the room taking station just below Melody, completely ignoring his bed until I brought it over to him. Jonathan and Marylou drove home after hugging both of us gingerly. I checked with Anthony Michaels about Aimee the following morning and I was pleased to hear that he had arranged for counseling. Shooting another human being is always traumatic, especially the first time, unless you’re a sociopath.

I went in to Headquarters three days later for just an hour so I could deal with Sgt. Biggers. I had given him written notice of the hearing with the option of having a representative from the Tennessee State Police Benevolent Association with him so I wasn’t surprised to see two lawyers present when we walked into the conference room. Fortunately, I was prepared, having spent an hour with Martin Albright to develop a list of charges. It was long—more than two pages ranging from insubordination to failure to follow established procedures. I also charged him with creating a situation in which a prisoner had been killed. I told him that I was suspending him with pay for ninety days and that a committee of the City Council would meet in a formal hearing to determine if he should be fired as per my recommendation. He must have seen the handwriting on the wall because less than a month later he resigned.

NEXT: The story’s conclusion.

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