And The Beat Goes On

Lucas and Josh were both heading for the nurse's station from different directions. I nodded towards her and they let me know that they knew which nurse I was talking about.

Before Julia saw me, I left that floor. I got back on the elevator as if I'd gotten off on the wrong floor. It was all I could do not to smile as I rode the elevator back down to the ground floor. On my way out, I stopped and spoke to the woman at the information desk. "I couldn't find her anywhere. I asked for her at the nurse's station but none of them had seen her either. If you happen to see her, could you ask her to either call me herself or have Tommy call me?" I said. She nodded her head and wrote it down on a pad.

I trotted away from the hospital happily. I drove away knowing that my guys would handle it. A few hours later I got a text. The text was from an anonymous phone. It read, "Done."

I called a different number and spoke to Lucas. "Get your ass over here, now," I told him. Then I hung up.

Ten minutes later, Lucas walked up to the door. He'd wisely parked his car or the car he had borrowed around the block so no one would see it in front of the house.

"Did you get rid of the big, stupid, white car?" I asked. He nodded.

"I wiped it down completely too," he said. "But they won't be able to track the car anyway since it isn't registered. We put a stolen plate on it and the car came from a dealership. My brother's best friend works at a Chrysler dealership. They keep all of their unsold new cars on a lot by the State fairgrounds. I gave the security guard there a hundred bucks and promised there wouldn't be a scratch on it."

"Tell me everything," I told him.

"Can I tell you afterward?" he whined.

"First or there won't be anything for you to tell me after?" I snapped.

"Okay," he said. "After you showed us which one she was, we had to figure out when to hit her. She was talking to one of the other nurses and telling her that she only had a little while to go before she got off so we decided that the best thing to do would be to catch her after she'd left the hospital. It would be far easier than trying to knock her out and move her through the hospital with all of those people around. We'd just let her do most of the work for us."

"There was another problem," he said. "Josh took one look at her and fell in love with her. He started talking about how we shouldn't do it. He said you were crazy."

"Crazy...me?" I asked. "Why does he think I'm crazy?"

"I think part of it is you know...you talking to your parents," he said. "Anyway, we went through with it, so I think you owe me a little something extra. It was really tough to convince him. He just stood there talking about how pretty she is. He really didn't want to do it."

"He thinks she's pretty?" I asked. "No wonder he thinks I'm crazy. He's nuts himself."

"So when she came out, she waved at the guard and headed for her car. Josh got behind her and slapped the rag over her face. As soon as she'd breathed in a couple of times, that ether had her knocked out. She almost didn't have time to think about it. Josh and Fernando loaded her into their car and headed for the exit. There was only one guard at the parking lot's guard shack then, so when I started loudly revving the Charger's motor and did a burn out near the back of the lot he came running over to see what was going on. Jimmy went into the guard shack and opened the barricade to let Josh out of the lot while I kept the guard busy. The stupid guard came over and I told him my accelerator cable kept sticking. He helped me to fix it. Before we got done, he had a whole line of cars trying to get out, so he had to run back to the shack to open the barricade for them and log them out."

"So there's no record of Josh and the invisi-mobile ever leaving the parking lot or what time it left. As soon as he got to the house, he called me to tell me that all was well. He'll call us again when she regains consciousness. That way, tomorrow you can go and talk to her," he said. I smiled. I'd been watching the news and as of yet there was no mention of it.

Lucas looked at me hungrily. He wasn't a tall guy but he was big and muscular. I pulled my shirt over my head and his eyes got huge. I kicked my shoes off and he was on me. He started roughly pawing my chest and my nipples hardened. He pulled my sweat pants down and jammed one of his huge hands down the front of my panties.

I leaned back and with a detached focus studied his movements. He rubbed my furry snatch and looked at me. He tried to stick one of his sausage like fingers in me but I was as dry as a bone. "Here," I said. "This might help." I handed him a tube of my favorite lubricant, "Easy Glide."

He smeared some over his fingers and started rubbing again. His other hand kept rubbing my left breast. Maybe it was the friction or my general happiness that the first part of my plan had come to fruition, but my nipple did pop a bit.

I watched him as he noticed it. He redoubled his efforts to get me ready. Inwardly I laughed. I had to do everything I could not to let him know that everything he was about to do to me meant absolutely nothing to me. Emotionally and sexually, I had died the day that Tommy left me. Sure I'd had sex lots of times since then, but I used sex as the coin of the realm. It meant nothing to me.

Some of the things I needed for my plan to succeed were bought with money. Other things were bought, bartered or borrowed with a taste of my tight little pussy. I didn't give half a God damn about any of those guys, but like Lucas here, I needed to keep them on a string until I didn't need them anymore.

It was very important that I let them believe that they rocked my world. Men are such fragile little creatures. A big part of the fun is in figuring what their weaknesses and needs are. Most men don't react favorably if they think that they don't satisfy you. It just destroys their ego. So I would play Lucas like a fiddle until he'd worn out his usefulness.

One of the best ways to do that was to remain unmoved until he really got started. Then I'd slowly begin to react more and more until I was screaming like a porn star and he thought that he was the best fuck I'd ever had. After that, the stupid bastard would take a bullet for me. So as he rubbed and probed me and started to lick my pussy, I had to work to concentrate on what he was doing.

He did lick my pussy pretty well, too well in fact. He licked off all of the lube gel and since I really didn't give a fuck about him, I had to imagine that it was Tommy doing it. My legs spread further and I started whimpering. I grabbed the tube of lube and rubbed more into and onto myself. He lined up his dick and started to push. His dick, like him, wasn't very long, but it was nearly as thick as a beer can and it really hurt going in. I told myself it was part of the price I'd had to pay to get Tommy back.

I started moaning and rubbing my hands down his back and he pumped harder and harder.

"It's so tight baby," he moaned. He was sweating all over me. I had to concentrate on my performance to keep from laughing in his face. All of that rubbing and moaning didn't mean shit. Luckily I had lots of lube and my pussy expanded to handle his size.

"Do it baby," I moaned. "It's so good." That seemed to send him over the top. He started humping faster and faster. He was screwing his face up like he'd been sucking lemons and he started pounding me harder and harder. The bastard was so heavy that it was like an elephant kept doing squats on my stomach. His pure bulk started driving the air out of me on every stroke so I started to breathe outward every time he put his weight on me. I was kind of glad that happened because it made what I was doing more convincing. He mistook me having the air forced out of me for me gasping as I tried to cum.

"I can't hold back much longer baby," he gushed out. He looked at me with a worried expression on his face because for some reason the dummy thought that I cared.

"Let it go," I said. And he screwed his face up even more. It really looked like he was in pain. Then my brain kicked in and I remembered that all of the macho types expect for the woman to cum first. It's a blow to their pride to be out lasted by a female. I started screaming and thrashing my legs while inwardly laughing my ass off. "Ohhh...Oooooooooohhhh...ooooh, oooh,ooh,oh...shiiiiiiiiiitttttt!" I said. Then I let my head drop onto the bed. With a guttural scream he slammed his pelvis against mine one more time and I felt fluid between my legs. He must've been away from women for a long time because it felt like almost a pint of sperm.

He let himself just collapse onto me. He was so heavy I almost pushed him off of me. "That was so good," he said dreamily. "It was the best ever." I didn't say a word.

"Melinda, are you okay?" he asked. He gently tapped my cheek and I snapped my eyes open and stared at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I've never felt anything like that before," I said. "At first it seemed like you were going to split my pussy in half. Then It started to feel sooooo good. Then I think I passed out."

He tried to act like he was concerned, but he was also grinning from ear to ear and I knew I had another sucker on the line. Another man who'd be willing to tear his own fucking arm off to help me get anything I wanted, even when all I wanted was another man. God men were stupid.

* * * * * *.

Fogerty

All I wanted was to go home to Melinda. But I found myself stuck at the station, answering questions for men who were far too stupid to be my superiors. God men are stupid, I thought. Somehow I wondered if Melinda was thinking the same thing. Maybe I should have played sick and went straight home to her. After all, this was, in fact, a breakthrough of some sort in our relationship. Well...what we had wasn't really a relationship, or was it?

At any rate, this was the first time that she'd ever even hinted at any type of intimacy between us. I supposed there was the chance that she was just leading me on again. She had a habit of pulling that kind of shit when she wanted something from me.

But even then, she'd never hinted that we were a couple or that we might have sex. That would be too much for me to ever consider. Really, I'm in my fifties and Melinda is in her late twenties. Would that even be legal? Why the hell would she want me?

Maybe the way I felt about her had finally begun to sway her. Maybe she'd finally realized that having someone who loves you in your life is simply better than being alone, even when he isn't the man you'd choose. Shit, maybe she was just horny.

All I knew was that she wanted me after all of this time and I was stuck here trying to figure out what was going on between three people, none of whom were forthcoming with the truth and all of whom were hiding something.

"How are things going between you and your wife, Mr. Smythe?" I asked him. "Are you hitting a lot of home runs in the bedroom?"

"Why the fuck would you ask me something like that?" he asked, jumping to his feet. "What are you insinuating?"

"Shit, I must've hit a nerve," I said. "Did I hurt your feelings Smythe?"

"Hell no," he snapped. "Maybe things have slacked off a bit between the sheets, but I work so many hours and we've been married for a long time. Things do tend to get a bit dull. But Pattie knows that I love her. It happens to everyone."

"So are you cheating on her, Smythe?" I asked. I instantly had my answer as shock registered on his face.

"How...how did you know?" he asked. "It was only a couple of times. I was...I'm going to end it, I swear."

"So does your wife know about it?" I asked. "Maybe she was after a bit of revenge...?"

"That isn't possible," he snapped. "She'd never..."

"She probably didn't think you would either," I said.

"But she was the one who screamed rape," he said.

"Maybe she felt like she didn't have much choice," I told him.

"If she cheated on me, it's over. I'll leave her ass penniless," he snapped.

A few moments later I was inside the other room with Mrs. Smythe.

"I have some interesting questions to ask you," I told her. "First off, why did it take you so long to scream rape? According to your husband it took a while before you started to struggle and you didn't try to push the guy off until you knew your husband was watching."

"Why are you asking me this?" she asked. Her faced filling with emotion as her eyes filled with tears. I was glad Charlotte was in the room. "I'm the victim here," she spat angrily.

"Maybe, "I said. "And maybe you're just willing to throw a young man under the bus to protect your own ass. So answer the question. Or wait, I'll give you time to think about that one. Why aren't you bruised anywhere? Why does Jimmy have no scratches or bruises on him? This must be the gentlest rape I've ever seen. Why the hell were both of you naked? How did he get into your house? And how the hell does he know the entire layout of your house. I showed this drawing of the layout of your house to your husband. I didn't tell him who drew it. He said it's accurate. How the hell does Jimmy know the layout of your house if he's never been there before?"

"I didn't scream because above everything else, I'm a mother," she spat. "My baby was upstairs in her room. I didn't want her coming down there to see what was going on. I didn't want to take the chance that bastard might want to turn on her too."

"Okay, bring them in," I said. "I'm tired of this shit." The door opened and both Jimmy and Smythe were escorted into the room.

"Why the fuck is that bastard in here?" asked Smythe. He shied away from Jimmy as he noticed that Jimmy wasn't handcuffed.

"I thought you wanted some time alone in a cell with him?" I smirked.

Stan and the DA filed into the room and sat down. I smiled at them and they seemed to be confused. Another man, who I later discovered was a representative of the mayor's office, sat at the rear of the room taking notes.

"Okay, before I read the formal charges I'd like to ask if either of you has anything to say?" I said.

"Hell yeah," said Smythe. "Throw the book at that motherfucker. Let's get on with it. He raped my wife he deserves the death penalty. What a piece of shit."

"Do you agree with that Mrs. Smythe?" I asked. "There's nothing you want to say?" She just looked down at her hands and shook her head.

"I just want this over with," she said quietly.

"Okay, it's over," I said. "Both of you will need lawyers. I'll go over the list of charges..." Before I could say anything else Stan jumped up and started screaming.

"Fogerty, what the fuck are you doing?" he screamed. "I warned you." The DA cautioned him.

"It's his ass Stan; he knows what he's doing. Let it play out," he said.

"What are you charging me with?" asked Smythe loudly. "I'll admit I did take a couple of pokes at that bastard but he was raping my wife."

"No he wasn't," I said. "Mrs. Smythe, you claim that you've never seen Jimmy before tonight. You also claim that he broke into your house. Neither of those was true. The fact that he was able to draw the entire layout of your house made me wonder. Obviously, he'd been there before. I actually didn't put this together alone. I had help." I pointed towards the screen and a video of an interview started.

There on the screen I was talking to the Smythe's twelve year old daughter.

"Are you okay?" I asked her. She nodded and smiled.

"Are my mommy and daddy in trouble?" she asked.

"No, we're just asking them some questions," I said.

"So Uncle Jimmy is in trouble?" she asked. "What did he do?"

"You've seen Jimmy before?" I asked.

"All the time," she laughed. "He visits Mommy a lot."

"Yeah, but I think your Uncle Jimmy snuck into your house tonight," I said. "That a bad thing."

"He didn't sneak in," she claimed. "Mommy let him in. She probably forgot. She was really angry at him tonight. She told him he was late and they wouldn't have as much time as she wanted. She'd been forgetting a lot of things lately. She even forgot my lunch money the other day."

I turned off the video just in time to see Smythe leap to his feet and start screaming. "You fucking whore," he bellowed. His wife just hung her head and cried. She looked up and away from her husband.

"I'm sorry Jimmy," she said. "I was afraid. When he walked in I just saw my marriage and my entire life going by the wayside. Can you please forgive me?"

"Yeah, you're sorry alright, bitch," screamed Smythe. "But not as sorry as you're going to be once my lawyers get through with you. Fuck you. Don't bother coming back to my house. I'll have your shit shipped to you. Call your sister and maybe you can stay with her. I'm outta here." He got up and was pushed back down into the chair.

"Mr. Smythe you're charged with assault and battery," I said. "Your unprovoked assault on Jimmy means you're going to need that lawyer before you start on the divorce."

"I don't want that whore in my house," he sneered.

"She won't be going anywhere either," I said. "She's being charged with knowingly filing false charges."

"Good," he said. "The bitch deserves it. I'm not paying for her lawyer."

"Right," I said. "She's really guilty of doing the same thing to you that you've been doing to her. You two deserve each other." I walked out of the room and left the rest of it to the suits. "Book em Dano," I said as I got to the door.

"Who the fuck is Dano?" asked Stan.

I told Jimmy that he was free to go and Smythe erupted.

"Why isn't he being charged with anything," he screamed. "Look what he did to my face."

"Yeah," I said conspiratorially. "And he also fucked your wife. He probably did that a lot."

"Exactly," said Smythe. "There should be some penalty for that shouldn't there be."

"Well, you're right," I said. "Let's look at this from a legal standpoint. He beat your ass, in your own home. He also did it in front of your wife didn't he? Shit, she was probably rooting for him." His frown deepened.

"The problem is that you hit him first, or uhm...tried to. There isn't a mark on him. You must hit like a little girl. You tried to pop him a couple of times didn't you. You were in there just a swinging, right?" He nodded.

"So you see what we have there is what's called SELF-DEFENSE. So we can't lock him up no matter how badly he beat your ass." He frowned more.

"But what about being in my house?" he volunteered. "That's trespassing. And he FUCKED MY WIFE!"

"Uhm, he didn't break in. Your wife invited him in, so he didn't trespass. And your house wasn't the only thing your wife invited him into. It's cheap and nasty and I'll bet you feel like shit. I'd also be willing to believe that you don't have too high an opinion of the little lady right now. But he hasn't done anything illegal, so I'm cutting him loose. Life's a bitch sometimes," I said.

I guess the reason that I came off sounding so cold and callous or like I didn't like Smythe was because I didn't. I had absolutely no use for self-important, stuffed shirts like him. He was the same as the pencil pushing politicians who ran the PD. They sat back in their offices and directed what good honest cops had to do on the street every day without ever putting their own lives at risk. More and more nowadays, the chief of police or the police commissioners were guys who were appointed by the mayor or the city council. More often than not, they weren't even lawyers or former cops and had no law enforcement background. The current police commissioner is a former accountant. The mayor appointed him mostly to get the police department's budget back in line.