Grab Life by the Balls

"What about the video then, Pat? Please tell me we didn't just install it to spy on them."

"No, Chris, we didn't. Dean signed all the necessary release forms for us. That's why he begged me earlier to take everything out. He knows it is all admissible. Dean's just freaking out now because he wants plausible deniability if Mercedes ever finds the cameras."

"She won't, ya know," Chris assured me. "Tonya put those cameras in there good. Mercedes and Brad would have to know exactly what they were looking for in order to find them."

"I have no doubt about that," I assured Chris. "The first thing that I need to do is call Marion Lawson and find out how he wants to proceed with this if we can convince Dean to actually file charges."

"What do we do in the meantime, then?" Ben asked. "Every minute that Dean spends in the house with Mercedes and Brad is another minute closer to him becoming a eunuch."

"When Dean left my office a little while ago, I gave him a pager to use. I told him to tell Mercedes that it was assigned to him specifically from me so I can get immediate access to him if I need it for an emergency. It has a panic button on there that can give us a radio frequency location. It will be through triangulation instead of GPS, but it will give us a close fix in a hurry."

Chris and Ben nodded in agreement. "Let's just hope he comes to his senses first," Ben said.

"I'd like him to, but we all know that's not likely. Dean is a victim but we need to remember that he may not side with us."

"Okay, Pat. Chris and I better get back to work. Let us know how Lawson wants to proceed with this."

"Will do, gentlemen."

*****

Needless to say my conversation with our County Attorney, Marion Lawson, didn't go well. But, then again, NONE of my conversations with him tended to go well. Marion initially asked me if the folks from "Candid Camera" or "Punked" were going to appear soon as he couldn't believe a word of what I told him. He got a little pissed when I reminded him that neither "Candid Camera" nor "Punked" were even on television anymore and hadn't been for quite some time.

I sent Marion a few clips of the video and asked him to keep it pretty close to the chest, to which he reluctantly agreed. When I told him that Mercedes wanted to cut Dean's balls off, Marion replied, "Well, Jesus! I'd cut my nuts off and giftwrap 'em for her just to have a chance to fuck her at least once!" I sensed quickly that Marion didn't view the situation as seriously as I did.

I caught up with Dean again later in the day and told him that I knew what had happened at the house the night before. He looked like absolute hell, which was understandable. After he had finally been able to get himself back under control again following the beating, he had placed a pained and anguished call to "ServiceMaster" to come and clean up the mess in the bedroom. Brad had disappeared for the night and Mercedes took off with Brandon and Brynne while their dad took care of the mess, which probably wasn't well explained to the kids. Understandable.

Dean had then spent three hours in the emergency room that night getting an examination of his genitals. He had told the doctor and nurses that he suffered some kind of calamity while doing yard work, which they had all accepted without hesitation, surprisingly. They probably just didn't want to get caught up in whatever kind of fucked up shit their patient had gotten into and left it at that.

Dean told me that his physician had placed a catheter in him to help drain out any urine and to make sure that there were no clots in his urethra that could block any urine flow. A pelvic CT scan ensured that there was no twisting of the spermatic cord in his testicles that could have necessitated surgery right then to correct. Finally, they gave him three or four bags of IV fluids to flush out his system and make sure he could urinate and maintain some semblance of function down there. Copious amounts of ice kept a good amount of the pain at bay and the swelling down.

Dean didn't return home until nearly 3 am following his visit to the ER. That alone explained why he looked like absolute hell today.

I also managed to head off another crisis when I caught Mitch Monahan in the hallway just as he was headed to my office. He was actually on his way to tell me that he was going to fire Dean for being late that morning and because he seemed to be completely lost in space all day and the elected officials and department heads were all demanding Dean's head again.

I felt bad for Mitch because I knew he was truly in a tough spot. As county administrator he was responsible for dealing with employee issues with non-union and non-bargaining county employees, which Dean was. As much as Dean's professional fate was in Mitch Monahan's hands, Mitch's professional fate was in the hands of the elected county officials. I repeatedly assured Mitch that I would back him 100% if any of the other elected officials started giving him a lot of grief and to give Dean time off for Family Medical Leave ACT, of FMLA, if necessary. They can't legally fire him while he is on FMLA.

Wednesday of that week came and went and there were no major eruptions to speak of. Dean was at work all day that day and seemed to be productive. I didn't speak with him directly, I simply passed him in the hallway as I was on my way to the courtroom on the lower floor. Dean only gave me a nod but I did notice that he was actually wearing the pager I gave him. I took some solace in knowing that at least he could contact me if necessary, especially since he probably wouldn't be able to call me if he was in danger.

Thursday morning I was tied up in a meeting with the county supervisors for nearly three hours going over the plans I had come up with for a new multi-agency public safety center that could potentially be built on the north side of Red River Falls. The supervisors were initially extremely skeptical of my plans, particularly when I informed them that the overall cost would probably be close to $40 million.

The plans would include new sheriff's offices, two additional courtrooms, space for a new Red River Falls police headquarters and a brand new six-bay fire station that would allow the Red River Falls fire department to be able to drive their trucks through the apparatus floor from the front and rear. This would eliminate them from having to back their trucks into their bays from a busy street. The building would also include a large public recreation and wellness center, a public safety shelter capable of safeguarding 500 people and an attached National Guard armory.

The building would also contain our new jail, which would dramatically increase capacity from our current 40-beds to nearly 300. Initially, none of the supervisors were even remotely paying attention, just giving me their required time. But when I told them that I had already received preliminary grants from both the Federal government and Martin Belmond's charitable foundation that would offset more than half the cost, suddenly they perked right up and became very attentive. A meeting I was initially expecting to last for an hour ended up taking almost three-and-a-half.

I was feeling pretty damned good about myself the rest of the day, filled with excitement and anticipation of the very real possibility that I could be helping to bring a state-of-the-art public safety facility to Red River Falls and Mason County. I had so engrossed myself in work that I hadn't even noticed that it was nearly 17:00. The only thing that snapped me out of my busy trance was my phone buzzing in its carrier.

I picked up my phone and haphazardly glanced at the screen. My heart nearly stopped as I saw that it was the pre-determined distress signal from the pager I had given Dean. It read "9-1-1". I immediately grabbed my desk phone and punched in the speed dial for our dispatch center. Liz Harrison, our lead dispatcher, answered the call.

"Yes, sheriff? What can I do for you?"

"Liz! I need an immediate trace on a department pager signal!"

"Okay," she said, not breaking her tone. "Can you give me the radio number?"

"Yes! The number is 9150!"

"Give me a minute," she said. I paced for a good minute before she came back on the line. "Sheriff, my computer is showing that emergency signal coming from the vicinity of Montgomery Avenue and 25^th Street Southwest."

My mind raced as I thought for a moment. Holy Shit! That's near Dean's house! He must still be at home.

"Thanks, Liz," I stammered. "Oh, and by the way, please do me a favor and page Captain Ben Villanueva, Lieutenant Chris Hayes and have them meet me at the sheriff's office immediately. Oh, and radio Lieutenant Angel Ryerson and have all of Bravo shift gather here also, will you?"

"Absolutely, Sheriff. Need anything else?"

"No, Liz. That should be it."

"Ten-four," she said. "Pages are going out as we speak."

My mind was racing. So Dean was probably still at home. But what was going on? As soon as I asked myself the question I knew I had the answer. Of course! We had the whole house wired for video and sound! I dashed to my computer and scrolled down in the browser to the link for the video surveillance system and punched in the passwords. It took literally only seconds to get it right today, thank God, as opposed to a couple of days ago.

I selected the 'Live Stream' option and waited while the video stream initialized for me to be able to view it.

The video came up on my laptop with the screen divided into the different views the multiple cameras were giving me. Everyone was in the master bedroom and I enlarged that view on computer. Dean was cornered by Mercedes, Brad and two other men that I didn't immediately recognize. Dean was hysterical and was pleading with them all as though he were pleading for his life.

"Please, Mercedes! I'm begging you! Don't do this to me!"

"We're done discussing this, Dean! We've already made a decision, remember?"

"I never agreed to anything, Mercedes! Not like this!"

"You and I agreed, Dean, that my happiness came first and foremost in our marriage. We agreed that you would do whatever it took to make me happy. This is what I want. This is what makes me happy. So, by default, this is what WE want - even if you can't see that right now."

Jesus, she was a mind-controlling, manipulative bitch! It was now obvious why the other two males were also in the residence. They were there to make sure Dean went through with this debacle whether he wanted to or not. Obviously, from the way he was crying and begging, Dean wanted no part of this. At least he had the sense to hit the panic button on his pager. Thank GOD he was smart enough to wear the pager!

Mercedes looked at Brad and his two buddies. "Look, the sooner we get this over with the better it is going to be for all of us. So, I'm going to go get my stuff ready and you guys make sure Dean gets ready. What time do we need to be wherever it is we're going?"

"Doc wants us there no later than five-thirty. They gotta prep everything and make sure everyone else is outta there. Deano goes under the knife no later than six-thirty," Brad informed everyone.

"Fine. Just get him ready," she said, giving Brad a kiss.

"Sounds good, babe," he said. "Alright, Deano, the doc wants you nice and clean so you need to hit the shower first." Dean stood there, petrified. "Let's go, Dean! Come on! Get your ass in the shower!"

Dean stood there like the proverbial deer in the headlights. His only defense at this point was to try and stall.

"Aw, Jesus Christ," he said, losing his patience. "Come on, you two. Give me a hand."

Brad and one of the other two males forcibly grabbed Dean and immediately started ripping his clothes off while the third one started the shower in the master bath. As they were undoing Dean's belt and taking his pants off, Brad Weston noticed the pager on Dean's belt. The sight of a pager in this day and age was obviously a rare occurrence.

"What the fuck is this? A pager? You still carry a fucking pager?" he chuckled.

"It's...not mine," Dean said through his sobs. "It belongs...to the...sheriff's...department."

"What the fuck do you carry it for?"

"I...I do...a lot of...work...for Sheriff...Quinn."

Brad started laughing out loud. "Sheriff Quinn! What a fucking trip! Whatever, dude! Throw his ass in the shower!"

The three men finished stripping Dean and literally tossed him in the shower where he proceeded to curl up on the floor in a fetal position. Brad and his two buddies stood just outside the bathroom door where they could keep an eye on Dean.

"Hey, Brad," one of the two men said. "What's the deal with him and the sheriff? I mean, is it really a good idea to fuck with him like this if he's really close to the sheriff?"

"Jesus, Kyle. Don't be such a pussy! We got nothing to worry about with the sheriff. Trust me!"

"Now hold on a minute, Brad," the other stranger said. "Kyle's got a point."

"Fuck, Todd! You too? What the hell are you two pussies worried about? Sheriff Quinn is one of the biggest douche bags in the entire state! I guarantee you he doesn't have a clue what is going on."

"How can you be so sure?" Kyle asked.

"Because he is a dense motherfucker, that's why. Look, can you two keep a secret? I mean, I don't want Mercedes finding out because they used to be friends."

"Jesus, Brad," Todd said. "Of course we can. Bros don't narc out other bros, right?"

"Damned straight they don't! I'll kick both of your asses if you ever spill this, okay?"

"Lips are sealed," Kyle said.

"Okay, here goes," Brad started, pausing for effect. "I fucked Quinn's ex old lady."

"No fucking way!" Todd blurted.

"I call bullshit," Kyle added.

"No, I swear to God! I fucked her, like, six times! Her name was Clarissa and she did shit for me she wouldn't even do for her husband, yo!"

"Are you fucking serious? Man! Quinn would beat your ass if he found out," Todd said.

My fists were clenched tightly and I could feel the acid pour into my stomach as I heard Brad Weston brag about screwing my ex-wife. I didn't freak out right then and there because I didn't know instantly if he was just bullshitting his friends or not. But just the fact that he even said it made me want to slit his goddamned throat!

"Naw, man. Quinn don't have a fucking clue, dude! Because, do you wanna know what the best part is? It's the fact that I was fucking HER while she was cheating on HIM with somebody else! Isn't that fucked up?!! That crazy bitch was cheating with me on the guy she was cheating on her husband with!"

"Get the fuck out of here!" Kyle laughed.

"You fucking rock, dude!" Todd added, amazed.

I stood there seething. Brad had just confirmed it. There was no other way that he could have known Clarissa had cheated on me unless he heard it from her himself. Even though Clarissa and I had been divorced for months, it still opened up a new wound that would take me a long time to get over. I might forgive her, but I would never forget!

Just then my afternoon shift supervisor, Lieutenant Deputy Angel Ryerson arrived in my office.

"Hey, Pat. I got the word to meet you here," she said. "Pat? Pat!"

"What? Oh, sorry," I said sheepishly. "I was distracted. Are the rest of the deputies here?"

"Brian Kelly and Danny Larson are both here. Still waiting on the other two."

"Did you tell Deputy Kinch to stay at his post in Royal Fork?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, have Kelly and Larson wait in the conference room. I'll wait until Deputy Rousch and Deputy Lowe get here before I brief you all on what's going on, okay? Oh, and give Red River Falls P.D. a heads up that we might need them, too, okay?"

"Jeez, Sheriff. Are we going to war or what?"

"I don't know yet, but let's be prepared just in case."

"Okay. I'll get 'em all together and call the P.D."

I returned my attention to my laptop and saw that the three men had returned their attention to Dean and were dragging him out of the shower and forcibly drying him off, teasing and taunting him mercilessly the whole way.

"Don't feel too bad, Deano," Brad said. "Some guys just don't deserve to keep their balls."

The other two men laughed. "How did you get this whole thing set up, Brad?" Todd wanted to know.

"I used to work out with Doctor Mullin. After a while he hired me as a personal trainer and that's how I got started in my sideline job. Selling insurance doesn't really make a chick's panties wet, ya know? So Doc Mullin sees me with a lot of the women I train with and asks if I can hook him up, too. So I did. Man, I've scored more pussy for that dude than he could shake a stick at. So I told him I'd need him to return the favor some day and that's why he agreed to help me out with neutering old Deano here."

"Isn't the doc married, too?" Todd asked.

"Yeah, but he was desperate to get something on the side. He says his old lady is a frigid bitch who was just out to get her M-R-S degree in college. Pretty much forgot all about sex after they got married and had a couple of kids."

Brad, Kyle and Todd all forcibly dressed Dean in a sweat suit, presumably because he would be getting undressed wherever this "operation" was supposed to take place.

"Alright, let's sit tight. Mercedes should be back in a minute with my van," Brad said.

"So you really nailed the sheriff's wife, huh? That's fucking awesome, dude!" Kyle said admiringly.

"Yeah, man. Like, six times."

"Was she hot?" Todd asked.

"Oh, yeah. I don't dig on fat and ugly chicks. That's why I score chicks at the gym. Clarissa wasn't the best piece of ass I've had but definitely not the worst."

It was all I could do not to punch the screen of my own computer as I had to listen to Brad talk about fucking my ex-wife. God as my witness, I swore to myself, I would have a piece of his ass some how, some where, at some time. I would bring the man extreme pain.

"Who's the best piece of ass you ever fucked?" Kyle asked.

"The best piece of ass? The best piece of ass is the one I haven't had yet. If you think Clarissa Quinn was hot, you haven't seen Sheriff Quinn's fiancée. Her name is Shannon. I've only seen her a few times but I have decided to make it my mission in life to fuck the shit out of that woman. She's the kind of chick you take one look at and think 'where have you been my whole life?'

She is fucking SMOKING hot! Huge, perfect tits and the most spectacular bubble ass I've ever seen. Plus she's tall, like 5-9 or 5-10. Like I said, she is my next conquest after me and Mercedes are done."

Buddy, you just signed your own death warrant!

"Sheriff?" Angel said.

"Yeah?"

"Uh, the whole duty shift is here. And Captain Villanueva just got here, too." She could see that I was obviously upset. "Are you okay, Pat? You don't look too good."

"I'm fine, Angel. I'm fine. We just have to act fast. Run into the conference room and tell everyone to don riot gear. Helmets, tactical vests, shields, gloves, eye pro and batons. We don't have time to activate the SOG team."

"Okay. I'll tell 'em," she said and took off.

Shit! By the time I looked back at the computer screen, it was obvious that everyone had left Dean's house. I speed dialed dispatch again and asked for Liz Harrison. I could only pray that somehow Dean maintained his presence of mind and had managed to snag his pager and take it with him.