Chapter 1

 

It was alumni weekend at my alma mater and like many others; I went back to my old haunts. It had only been six years since I graduated so there weren't many changes, none on campus but that wasn't surprising. There had been little changes in over a hundred and fifty years so none was expected.

I drove down and got there Friday night. I went to The Party Pub, a favorite watering hole of mine back in my younger days. I had hoisted many a mug of beer there. I walked in and couldn't move any farther in the door. It was jammed packed. I finally managed to work my way to the crowded bar and made myself heard to order a beer.

A few spaces down the bar I spotted her. Young, fresh, tight bodied and drop-dead gorgeous. I made my move.

"Hi, I'm Jack Newton," I said raising my voice about the crowd noise and moving in close to the vision of loveliness. "I guess you've heard of me."

"I don't think so," she yelled back at me. "Why would I?"

"One day was sitting under an apple tree and an apple fell. I then realized I had discovered gravity," I said. Instead of the anticipated laugh, I got a blank look. She got the drinks she came for and disappeared through the crowd.

"Has that line ever worked for you?" A voice said. I looked down and saw what appeared to be a pixie sitting at the bar. The gravity bit hadn't actually worked as such, but I didn't want to share that tidbit with her. I shrugged and took a sip of my beer.

"First of all, whoever you try it on has to be intelligent enough to know who Newton was," the tiny girl said. "Otherwise it's just a stupid story."

"Are you old enough to drink?" I said. "Did you escape from your baby sitter?"

"You don't have to be very old to drink, dummy," she said with a big smile. "You only have to be old enough to buy it legally. I am and I have good ID to prove it. Was that your only line, or do you have another one that actually works?"

I sipped my beer and looked around the Pub. A few minutes later, a seat at the bar became available on the other side of the little girl. I grabbed it before someone else could. I signaled the bartender and pointed at my empty beer mug. He nodded and I pointed to the pixie's glass. He nodded again.

"Thanks, Sir Jack Newton," she said raising her glass. "You should stop looking so desperate. Women can sense desperation a mile away. Why are you desperate, anyway? You aren't that bad looking."

"Thanks," I said. "I suppose that was a complement. I don't have a place to stay this weekend. I was hoping to find a kind hearted lady who would take me in."

"Well, that was just poor planning on your part, wasn't it? I made reservations well over a month ago," she said taking a sip of whatever green concoction she was drinking.

"It wasn't poor planning," I said. "It was no planning. Until yesterday I couldn't get off from work. Suddenly things changed and I was able to get off work for the whole weekend."

"I see," she said. I was able to get a better look at her when she turned toward me. She was cute. No, more than just cute, kind of pretty. She had a beautiful smile and sparking eyes. "What work were you able to get off from?"

"I'm a cop," I said.

"Really? Where do you ply your craft? And do you have a badge?"

"Brookhill," I said showing her my gold badge and ID. "About fifteen miles south of Capitol City."

"I know where Brookhill is," she said. "I live in Drayson."

If Brookhill is considered a suburb of Cap City, then Drayson is a suburb of Brookhill. The two city limits actually join on the southeast side of Brookhill.

"So, you managed to get the weekend off and you decided to come to Melton for the big game? I'll bet you don't have tickets to the game, do you?" I didn't, but I wasn't worried about that so much. I planned on flashing my badge and walking in. A seat could always be found. "No place to stay unless you drive twenty miles up the highway and no ticket to the game. This was a last minute trip for you, wasn't it?"

"It was," I agreed. "Poorly planned and poorly executed so far, but the night is young. What do you do in Drayton?"

"I own my own ad agency," she said proudly. "Still small but growing."

"How much advertising business could there be in Drayson?" I asked.

"Not much so most of my clients are in Brookville and Capitol City. How's the search going for Brookville's serial killer? She asked. "The one the media calls the Midnight Slasher? What a ghastly name."

"The Midnight Slasher is dead," I said. "My partner and I took him out yesterday about two o'clock in the morning. That is how I was able to get the weekend off."

"You killed him?"

"Not exactly. We located him and when we approached, he ran. Right into the path of a tractor-trailer truck. He was dead before he hit the ground twenty feet away. Case closed."

"You're sure he's the Slasher?"

"Yes, we are positive. He left evidence all over his victims. We found his knife near his body and his DNA checked out. The Midnight Slasher is dead, dead, dead and I finally got a few days off." I signaled for another round for me and my tiny companion whose name I didn't know.

"Let me get this round," she said. "I owe the man who got the Slasher. I haven't had a good night's rest since he started killing women. Everyone has been scared to death."

"It was a smidgen of good police work and a lot of good luck for us and bad luck for him. Sleep tight, Miss...I don't believe I got your name."

"Sally, Sally Green," she supplied. "Nice meting you, Sir Jack Newton. Is Jack Newton really your name?"

"It is really my name. Detective second grade Jack Newton at your service, ma'am." I tried to get an assessment of her figure, but she was wearing a bulky purple and gold sweatshirt. Purple and Gold is our school colors.

"Are you checking me out, Detective?" she asked me. "Thinking of lowering your standards?"

"No, I'm still optimistic about that tall blonde goddess," I said. "What do you think of 'what's your sign'?"

"Yeah, that's a winner," Sally Green said with a giggle. "Right up there with, 'Heaven must be short an angle tonight'. What's the big deal with the tall leggy blond bimbo?"

"I've had good luck with tall leggy bimbos in the past," I said. "I would make a move on you, but frankly you seem too smart to fall for any of my bullshit. I have to play the odds."

"That's true, Detective," she said. "However I do feel I owe you for taking case of the Slasher. My girlfriend canceled on me at the last minute. I have a spare bed in my motel room and a spare ticket to the game. That should ease your desperate attempt to score."

"It does, Sally, Sally Green," I said. Oops I was beginning to feel the beer. "I'll buy you dinner, if you haven't eaten yet."

"As a matter of fact I have not," she said. "But do we really want to give up our seats here?" I gave that some careful consideration.

"Sure," I finally said. "We'll go eat and then come back later. Some of these people are really old and they'll be going to bed soon." Sally Green agreed that it was a good plan.

Over dinner, I discovered several things. One is I misjudge her. She was damned pretty. Still tiny, but very pretty. Another discovery was she was two years younger than me. I also found out she was the baby in her family. The youngest of four girls and her hometown was Drayson. We exchanged life stories. Mine was simple. College then a short stint in the Army military police and then right onto Brookhill PD. I told Sally that I married while in the Army.

"So why didn't Mrs. Sir Jack Newton come with you this weekend?" Sally asked.

"Because I didn't invite her," I said. "I didn't know where to look even if I wanted to invite her. She ran off with a biker two years ago. Is there a Mister Sally Green?"

"No, I'm as single as can be now. My ex-husband went looking for greener pastures. I live in a small apartment and I don't even have a cat."

"Surely there is a boyfriend somewhere," I said.

"Not that I've been able to find," she said with a pretty smile. "And don't call me Shirley. Yeah, that's an old joke. Why did your wife run off?"

"Several things," I said. "One being a cop's wife is hard. There's the irregular hours and danger all the time. I guess it's hard on a woman. That's one reason, but I think the real reason is the fact I'm such a stud she couldn't handle it. I always demanded sex twenty-four/seven and that was more than she could handle."

"I'm sure that was it, Jack," Sally said and gave me a smile to show she thought I was kidding. I was because it wasn't my libido it was her super-charged libido that did us in. "I'm sure she took off with a biker to get a rest from all the sex. Was he a gang biker?"

"Wasn't a he," I said. "The biker was a bull dyke. Big and rough as a cob. Ugly as sin, too."

"Ouch, that had to hurt," Sally said. "Are you lying to me?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "He was a biker but he did have a couple bull dykes riding with him. Or he could have, I don't know for sure."

"How did a cop's wife meet a biker?" Sally said. "Two different worlds I should think."

"I introduced them," I said. "A story for another time, Sally Green. If you're finished let's go find our seats at the Pub." Watching the tiny woman eat had been amazing. She ate enough for a person twice her size.

"You introduced your wife to a biker?" Sally said after we found a booth at the Pub. "That just has to be a good story. Care to explain why you would do that?"

I have no idea what there was about Sally that caused me to start spilling my guts. I had never told anyone the story before. Not even my partner.

Chapter 2

 

Jack's story begins:

 

Beth and I had been married just long enough for the new to get worn off. Beth is a woman with large appetites. One night we were watching some porno on disk. It was a movie with a lot of threesomes. Mostly two guys and a girl.

"Jack, we should try that," Beth said.

"Okay," I said not realizing she was serious. "Do you have another guy in mind?"

"No, but I'm sure you know a lot of horny men. Find one with a big cock, if you can." I suddenly realized Beth was as serious as a heart attack.

"Yeah, I can just picture that," I said. "Hi, I'm Jack and my wife is a slut. She wants a threesome with two guys. Do you have a big cock?"

"You'll have to be more discrete than that," Beth said completely missing the sarcasm as usual. "What about Brian, your partner?"

I knew Brian was married and I knew he didn't let that stop him from fucking any woman he could. I also knew he had a case of the hots for Beth since day one. Brian would jump at the chance to jump Beth. I told Beth I would have to think about it.

A few days later Brian and I were pulling a stake-out. We were in plain clothes in an unmarked car doing grunt work for the detectives. We were still uniformed patrolmen at that time. We were watching a pawnshop that the dicks suspected was a fencing operation for stolen goods. It was a warm day and I was sitting in the passenger's seat in a semi-comatose state. Just whiling away the day.

"There's Slick Willie," Brian said rousing me from the stupor I was enjoying. Slick Willie was a black pimp. A big mean son of a bitch. Six feet three or four and almost four hundred pounds of muscle and mean. He ran a string of about twenty or twenty-five whores. Most of them white.

"Yeah, I see the big tub of shit," I said. "Wonder what he's doing in this part of town. I also wonder what he's doing out in the daylight." It was ten o'clock in the morning and Slick Willie usually didn't come out until dark-thirty.

"Beats me," Brian said. "Too bad we're on stake-out or we could roust his ass. He's going in that store. What's in there?"

"I do not know," I said watching Slick Willie's ass disappear through the door. "I thought that place was closed. Wasn't it a laundry mat at one time?"

"Yeah, I do believe it was. The windows are painted over so whatever is going on in there, ain't legal you can bet on that. Nothing Slick Willie does is legal."

Slick Willie didn't come out of the building while we were watching. Our relief came at one o'clock to give us a break and to have lunch. We told our relief about seeing Slick go into the building and asked them to keep an eye out.

Brian and I were back on the job about two-thirty that afternoon. The other cops turned over the video camera we were using to record the patrons of the hock-shop. They reported that Slick Willie had not emerged from the store.

"Now you got to wonder why Slick Willie went in there..." he checked his watch "About five hours ago and hasn't come out. What's in there that is keeping his fat ass occupied?"

"A bed!" I said. "It's his pad. I'll bet that's where Slick Willie sleeps. That's his cave! His hideout! Where did you first spot him?"

"Down the block near that parking garage," Brine answered. "You think he parks his car in the garage?"

"Could be," I said and filed the information away in case it came in handy someday. You never know what data you'll need.

Later on, Brian and I were relived and we went home. Him to his mousey little wife and me to Beth and her nagging me about finding her another man. Beth is not mousy by any definition. She super hot.

A few days later we were on evenings. Since patrolmen work a ten-hour shift we started the evening shift at two P.M. and finish at midnight. I didn't much like the ten hour shift, but I loved the three days off so I put up with it.

"Newton, you're riding solo tonight," the sergeant told me before roll call.

"Where's Brian?" I asked.

"Called in sick," the sergeant said. "Probably got the clap, knowing him. I'll try to find you a partner before it gets dark and I'll try to get dispatch to not send you to quell a riot. In the meanwhile you roam at will and back-up any unit that needs it. Try not to get killed 'cause I do hate paperwork of any kind."

Early in the afternoon in the middle of the week, things were relatively quiet on the streets of Brookhill. I cruised around the streets for a while and then found a place in the shade to park and listen to the dispatcher sending the other units to various places to fight crime. From where I parked, I saw Slick Willie berating some luckless whore down the block. He was in her face and she was cowing from his wrath. I started my car and eased down the street until I was close to them and got out of my unit.

He was so engrossed in chewing her out about something, he didn't even know I was in the world until I was three feet from them. The whore gave it away by glancing at me several times.

"Good afternoon, Officer," Willie said glancing around at me. For a man of his bulk he had a surprisingly soft voice. Almost a whisper. "Is there a problem?"

"I don't know," I said. "Is there a problem, ma'am?" I said to the whore. She was young, not very pretty, and white. She shook her head vigorously.

"No problem here, Officer," Slick Willie said with a big smile displaying a lot of white teeth and plenty of gold.

"Ma'am," I said to the whore, "Go over there by that fire hydrant and wait for me." She didn't move but looked at Slick Willie for instructions instead. "Ma'am, go stand by the hydrant," I repeated raising my voice and using my baton as a pointer.

"Go on, sugar," Willie said calmly. "Do what the nice man said to do. What's up?" he asked when she was out of the way.

I knew it was a waste of my time to ask her anything. She appeared to be a veteran hooker and she knew better than to chat with the police.

"What did she do?" I asked him. He put a blank look on me. "I saw you getting in her face," I explained. "What did your whore do to piss you off?"

"Fell in love and started giving pussy away," he said after giving me a long hard look. "Can't have that shit. Not when she's working for me. I don't believe I know you," he said glancing at my hash marks and the corporal stripes on my sleeve. "I see you been around a while so how come we never met?"

"I usually work midtown or down southeast toward Drayson," I informed him.

"Got time for a cup?" he asked hitching a thumb toward a coffee shop down the block. "I may have something you can use."

"Sure, why not?" I said. "You can tell your whore I'm through with her."

"I'll do that," he said. "I'll give her marching orders while you go on ahead and get us a table. I can't get in and out of a booth very easily."

I'd sup with the devil to get good information. Information coming off the street is always worth listening to. I used my portable radio to tell dispatch I was taking a break and my location.

"You hear about a bunch of Mexicans coming into town?" he asked. We had spent a few minutes in small talk before he got to it. I told him we had been briefed that there was a new gang in town. "They either got ran out of Cap City or split off from a Mex gang up there. They moved into an old house over on Garland Street. I heard they just ran the residents out and took over."

"As far as I know we got no complaints," I said.

"You ain't likely to," he said with a grin. "I hear they're vicious. Pure evil. Snuff out a human life as quick as you or I would step on a bug. I can tell you where they store their weapons if you're interested. It ain't in their newly acquired house."

"I might be," I said as casually as I could. This kind if information is the thing that gets a patrolman promoted to detective. "What's in it for you?"

"War ain't good for children and other living things," he said with his big grin. "It also ain't good for business. Personally, I don't give a shit if them wetbacks stand back and shoot the fuck out of each other. From what I know it ain't goina be an even fight. That Cap City trash came armed to the teeth. Automatic weapons and even hand grenades. The gangs already in the barrio won't have the chance of a snowball in hell. There have already been a few rumbles, but that was before the new gang was here in force."

"So you are just a public spirited citizen," I said. "I ain't buying that shit, Willie. Come on and level with me. What do you want?"

"Pussy,' he said. "I don't have nothing to do with drugs or weapons or any of that shit. I deal in pussy. Every day young fresh pussy comes to town. Runaways or whatever. I want you to send me the prettiest white girls."