Mission Critical

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Chapter 11 - Not Much of a Lead

Morning. Late morning, to be exact. I don’t know what the hell time it is. I don’t care, either. Isn’t it great when you get a call from work at eight o’clock in the evening telling you that you don’t have to report to work the next day? I guess they figured we’d all worn ourselves out with the SRT assessment, so they gave us all the day off. Absolutely glorious! We needed the day off. Especially me and a certain someone named Robbie who’s in my shower right now. I was in there earlier – which is why I’m lying here in bed without a stitch on – but I guess the sight was too much for him and he got in for an encore performance. That guy really does like water sports! I’m guessing I’m in for one hell of a water bill this month because we were in there a good long time last night and this morning. Well, you get what you pay for, right? I really love getting nailed in the shower. For some reason, the water makes it that much sexier and it makes me pop even harder. I totally needed a serious fucking and that’s exactly what I got. God, it was good! I mean really good!

Robbie’s eyes just about popped out of the sockets when he saw how naughty I like to be. I think he must’ve fantasized about it when we were working together, but he didn’t have to do any fantasizing last night. I made sure of that. He said he always wondered what I looked like without my clothes on. I guess he doesn’t know about my calendar shot for Cydonia. Well, he got to see it in person and I made sure to run his hands over every square inch of my body. It’s no fun to look at the merchandise if you can’t play with it, right? He sure as hell got to play with it in every way imaginable! I made sure of that, too. I think it’s an absolute ball when you get to drag a guy’s deepest naughty fantasies out of him and then make them come true. I’ve always liked doing that. It made me a very popular girl with my math club colleagues, as you’ll recall. It sure as hell made me popular with Robbie. He thought he’d died and gone to heaven, and that was the idea. Of course, I don’t think some of the things we did would go over very well in heaven. That’s why you need to do them all while you’re still here on earth, right?

As soon as we got back here, I had him undress me very slowly. I like it when the guy slowly takes off my clothes; making sure to touch me in all the right places while he does it. I purposely clenched up my butt so he had to reach deep between my butt cheeks to get my panties off. He appreciated that. So did I. Then I had him run his tongue gently over my boobs and my ass before I undressed him and started blowing him nice and slow. I don’t think he’d ever had a girl do it that slowly before. I can usually tell by their reaction. That’s the best way to do it, you know. Too many girls seem to learn how to do it from porn films and the girls always rush it in those. Time constraints, I suppose. Keep it slow and sensual and make the guy hold out until he can’t anymore and it’s so much better for both of you. It also makes him blow his load a lot harder. Robbie was no exception. He held out as long as he could and then he fired off a huge load right into my mouth and watched while I took it all down. That really turned him on, let me tell you! It helped to recharge his batteries a lot faster. That’s part of the idea, after all. I had him finger me and suck on my breasts until he was ready for another round and then I climbed on board and went for a ride. I needed that; let me tell you! I leaned forward so he could suck on my boobs while I rode him. I really like it when guys do that. Guys like it, too. It’s always best when everyone gets what they want, right? Robbie was good; let me tell you! I must’ve popped five or six times before we even switched positions! Then he got on top of me and rammed me good and deep while we stuck our tongues down each other’s throats and I popped a few more times. I pop really hard in that position. He was especially good at that one and you’d better believe I enjoyed every second of it!

After he fired off another one in me, I dug out my candles and masturbated for him until he was ready to go again. I remembered how much Anthony liked watching me do that, so I’ve added it to my repertoire. Judging by his reaction, I’m pretty sure he never had a girl do that for him before. What can I say? He’s been banging the wrong girls. I had him handle it for me a few times just to make me pop again. He just loved watching me shake and moan with each orgasm. Frankly, I’ve never met a guy who didn’t like watching a girl have an orgasm. It’s a very sexy thing to behold, you know. And once he saw me work the candle in and out of my ass, he hardened up right away and took me in the butt like you wouldn’t believe! I guess he never had a girl do that for him, either. He can definitely cross that one off of his list now! He drilled me nice and deep; just like when he banged me in my twat. I was practically over the moon when he did that! The way he was fucking me, I didn’t think he’d last three minutes. I guess he wanted to savor it because it was a good long time before he fired off another load in my butt. He seemed especially satisfied after that. Hey, he wasn’t the only one! We played a few special naughty games until he was ready to go again and then I took him into the shower for the water sports. I put on the best show I could for him in the shower; my fingers finding their way into all sorts of interesting places in the most sensual way I could do it. It’s a shame we didn’t film it. I was really good! You’d better believe that got him recharged. More like a total jump-start, to be honest with you! Then he nailed me every way you can think of while the water ran all over us. And when it was over, we were both squeaky clean. An added little bonus, right? He dried me off nice and slow and we finished up with another session on the bed. I think I actually fell asleep with his dick in my twat and his fingers tugging at my nipples and I was covered in you-know-what. Very naughty of me, huh? I just know I slept like a baby. A thoroughly good time was had by the both of us, to be sure. God, I loved it! Every fucking minute of it! It was exactly what I needed! I’m pretty sure the same goes for him. Yes, I know I’ve been going on and on about it. Hey, what can I tell you? I’ve got two hobbies in my life: schlock movies and sexual escapades. As you know, I tend to overindulge in both of them. Guilty as charged.

And here comes the star of last night’s show! I’ve got more than half a mind to start the show all over again right now! Hey, it’s been months since I lost Anthony. A girl has needs, you know? I told you: I’m a total nympho when the circumstances are right. Get me the right guy and there’s pretty much nothing I won’t do. I’m like a naughty little secret that only select guys ever learn, aren’t I? Pretty neat, huh?

“Did you save me any hot water?”

“To be honest, I think we used it up with that last performance.”

If we did, it was worth it. Totally worth it!

“What are you looking at?”

“You! I can’t believe how beautiful you are! I mean, I always knew you were hot, but I had no idea what you were hiding under that uniform!”

True. The uniform wasn’t meant to do justice to the female figure. Someone should do something about that.

“I’ve got my mom’s genes. It’s about the only thing she gave me that was worth a damn.”

“I don’t care where you got it. I just want to look at it.”

“Is that all you want to do?”

“Oh, I want to do a lot more than that!”

I’d say I’ve definitely straightened him out. His mind is right where it ought to be now, don’t you think?

“So do I. But I need to make something clear: just because we had our little bang-fest last night doesn’t mean we’re an item now. Maybe we will be, but my days of deciding my whole life in an afternoon are over and done with. I loved every minute of last night and I just want to see where it takes us. I don’t want you thinking I’ve made any long-term promises to you. Maybe this will turn into something serious and maybe it won’t? We’ll just see where it takes us, OK?”

“Sounds good to me. I didn’t think that just because you gave me the night of my life, it meant you were suddenly madly in love with me.”

“Good. I mean, who knows? Maybe I will be? I just want to take things as they come for a while. I got burned once, you know. I never want to make that mistake again, OK?”

“Allison, it’s fine. I understand. We’re both adults. We’re not going anywhere. We’ll take it a step at a time and see where it leads.”

I’ll say this for him: he says all the right things. I don’t think he’s working a line on me. Robbie’s a good guy, but he’s not what you’d call smooth with the ladies. If he were a snake, he’d be a lot smoother. The fact that he isn’t is pretty reassuring. As I’m sure you’ll remember, I don’t like snakes. Any kind of snake.

“Exactly. But at the same time, I don’t want you to think that you were just something to do.”

“Don’t you mean someone to do?”

Very snarky, pal! Here! Have a whack with a pillow!

“You know what I mean! I want you to know you weren’t just a notch on my bedpost. I don’t do that. I save it for guys I like, you know? I like you. I wouldn’t have banged you if I didn’t.”

“Same here. I always wanted to get you in bed…”

“And in the shower? And on the couch? And on the floor?”

“All right! And everywhere else I could think of! I think you know what I’m saying.”

“Yeah, I do. So this is our little secret for now, OK? Just because there’s no official rule about us doing what we did, I don’t want it to come back on us. Some people might make a big deal out of it. And I don’t want it to interfere with the SRT assessment. I think if people found out you and I were fucking our brains out last night, we might end up being dropped from the roster. That’s not going to happen.”

“Right there with you. I don’t want to jeopardize that, either. Though I have to tell you, I think it was worth it.”

Yes, I’ve definitely got his mind in the right place. This is going to be fun!

“That’s very sweet of you to say.”

“It’s the truth. I mean…wow!

“You had no idea I was a total nympho, did you?”

No! If I’d known…I don’t know what I’d have done! Probably something I shouldn’t have. I can’t believe your husband left you. I can’t believe any guy would leave you!”

My thoughts exactly! It’s not like I wasn’t willing to do all these things for him. For some strange reason, he didn’t seem interested in pulling out all the stops. Weird, huh?

“He was a total assbag. From what I’ve heard, he’s had a series of barely legal girlfriends since he dumped me. Maybe he thought I was too old for him?”

“His loss.”

“I like to think so. Now, we have the whole day off. We don’t have to be anywhere. I’m pretty sure we can find a lot of ways to occupy our time, don’t you?”

“I’m sure of it.”

I like his attitude, don’t you? Ready to jump back in with both feet. Of course, it’s not his feet I’m interested in.

“So what do you think we should do for an encore? Remember: don’t be bashful. Bashful is no fun. So are there any naughty things you want to do with me? Or should I say, to me?”

“I can think of a few.”

“Only a few? Come on, Robbie! You’re just not trying! I know there’s a naughty boy in there. I saw him last night, remember?”


I think he needs a suggestion or two. I’m good with suggestions.

“Do you see these slats in the headboard of the bed? You know, you can slide the belt from my bathrobe through them and tie me up. And then I can tie you up. In fact, I think I want to go first with that one. I’ll tie you up and have some fun, and then you can tie me up. Interested?”

Another trick question. I’ve never met a guy who wasn’t interested in doing that. You can have some amazing fun when you do that. Believe me, I know!


“Good. That belt also makes a good blindfold. I know some games where you’re blindfolded that are a lot of fun. It’s usually better for the girl, though. There are more ways to surprise her if you really go all out. But don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have plenty of fun.”

“I’m looking forward to it. You really know some neat tricks, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. As a bona-fide naughty girl, I feel I have a duty to educate the male of the species in what they should be doing. But I only do it for guys I like. The rest of them can wallow in their ignorance for all I care.”

“I’m glad you think I’m worth it.”

“You’re definitely worth it.”

Kiss him and…run his hand across my boobs nice and slow, and then slide it down between my legs to…oh, God! Right there! Right fucking there! You remember the spot I showed you last night, don’t you? That’s it! Nice and slow! In and out! Yes! God, yes! Keep doing that! I’m going to pop! More! Keep doing that! Right there! Oh, God! I’m coming! I’m coming! God, yes! Yes! Fucking yes!

Back at the station. It’s about eleven o’clock in the morning. Our day off went by way too fast. Well, you know what they say: time flies when you’re having fun. Considering how much fun I had yesterday, time flew by at the speed of light! Between lunch, a couple of Roger Corman films, taking Beefy to the dog park and dinner, Robbie and I spent the entire day fucking, sucking, and doing pretty much every sexual thing we could think of. Let me tell you, our imaginations got a serious workout! It was almost like I was back in college when we were competing to see who could do the most outrageous things of a sexual nature. And was it ever worth it! When I got up this morning, I felt like I was totally refreshed. I can’t tell you the last time I felt like that. Deciding to bang his brains out was definitely the right decision for me. I wish I’d done it a little sooner. No strings attached, no uncomfortable feelings or awkward commitments afterward; just a plain old-fashioned bang-fest. I highly recommend it for stress relief, muscle pain, and just for the fucking hell of it.

But all good things must come to an end, and in our case, duty calls. Our assbag bank robbers didn’t hit yesterday, but they’ll hit again soon enough. There’s been one development: Lieutenant Jutras got the Chief of Detectives to sign off on us going up to Las Vegas and trying to talk to our felonious author in the hope that he’ll know who these guys are. Instead of sending a couple of robbery detectives, he’s sending the Sarge and me. Remember: I grew up there, so he figures I’ll have a better shot at being able to find the guy. We still don’t know exactly where he lives, after all. We may have to do some digging once we get there. I don’t know when they’re going to send us, but it probably won’t be long from now. Sergeant Coulson over at Media Relations told us there were a bunch of local bank presidents who kind of descended on the chief’s office this morning and they were not happy guys! He said the meeting didn’t go well: the chief’s man told them to install bulletproof glass and make their banks less desirable to bank robbers and they told him where he could shove his bulletproof glass and why haven’t the police put a stop to this crap? Yes, I think the heat just got turned up on us. Ever since last fall’s great biker war, the public has lost patience with our local assbags and with the police. They’re fed up and they’re ready to take matters into their own hands. There were even letters to the editor in the paper about it this morning. We could end up with a real lynch mob for the first time in over a hundred years. To tell you the truth? I wouldn’t have a problem with that.

I can’t stop thinking about the big question: what the hell are these dickheads doing with all of that stolen money? People don’t rob banks for the hell of it. It’s too risky and draws too much attention. These guys figure they need massive piles of cash for some reason and if we knew what that was, we’d have a good chance of finding them. My first theory? Drug addicts. Wrong! My second theory? They want to get into the drug business. Crazy! My third theory? They’re massively in debt to a loan shark or something. Wrong! We actually have loan sharks around here and our Vice officers keep a pretty good tab on them. The loan sharks? You’d be amazed how forthcoming they can be. Ask them if there’s anybody up to their neck in debt and there’s a good chance they’ll tell you about it, even if they don’t give you a name. Our guys said there’s nobody that desperate out there as far as the sharks are concerned. So what the hell are these dickheads risking life and limb for? They’re staking their lives on something they found in a book! So did they decide to rob banks based on something they saw on TV? Some asinine bank robbery drama? “Hey! That looks so cool! Let’s do that! Let’s rob some banks!” Could they be that crazy? Why am I doing this to myself? I’m not even a detective anymore! How did I get roped into this crap? I’m a patrol sergeant! I’m supposed to drive around, handle calls, supervise the officers and wait for these dickheads to do something really stupid so we can catch them in the act! So why am I driving myself crazy over this? Can someone please explain that to me?

Time for a change of pace. What’s in my sergeant’s box that I have to review? Let’s see…reports with little yellow post-it notes. Little yellow post-it notes are the bane of a sergeant’s existence, in case you didn’t know. They mean I have to do something to fix it. We’ve got a crime report with the evidence box checked, but no evidence report. Did the officers complete one? I hope so or else the evidence is probably sitting in the trunk of their car from yesterday. What else? An incident report involving Officer Muldoon. Oh, wonderful! What did he do now? Brian Muldoon is one of our more…colorful officers. That’s a kind way of saying he’s a total shit magnet. He seems to have especially bad luck with animals. Bitten by a Gila Monster? Muldoon. Bitten by a rattlesnake? Muldoon. Patrol car with the windshield bashed in because a bunch of goats climbed on top of it and stomped on the glass with their hoofs? Muldoon. They should make a reality TV show about him. He actually got trapped in his car once because a mountain lion attacked it. If you asked fifty guys who were at least ninety years old if they’d ever even seen a mountain lion in the state, they’d tell you no. Somehow, Muldoon found one and managed to piss it off. Don’t ask me how. I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.

So what did he do this time? Well, this is almost mundane by his standards: he got bit by a dog. What the hell is a Dogo Argentino? Apparently, it’s a really big dog with a whole lot of teeth. Eleven stitches. Ouch! At least I don’t have to handle the workman’s comp paperwork. They want me to call over to the hospital where he was treated and verify that he got his ass bit. That’s easy enough. I’m telling you, one of these days he’s going to get himself permanently injured and the city’s going to have to shell out a fortune to pension his ass off. It’s only a matter of time. The guy means well, but he’s a total menace. He once drove his patrol car through the wall of some factory during a pursuit and caused a major Haz-Mat situation. They had to junk the car because it was all contaminated. Muldoon? He wasn’t hurt, but they had to take him to the hospital and shove some kind of radioactive enema up his ass to map his blood and make sure he wasn’t contaminated. I wonder if his poop glowed in the dark after that?

I guess he’s on injured on duty status again. That sucks. The night shift can’t afford to drop a unit.

“Sergeant Granatelli? Is Muldoon IOD again?”

“Is the Pope Catholic?”

Yeah, I didn’t really need to ask. Muldoon’s name has kind of a reserved space on the deployment board under the IOD heading. I just wanted to make sure. Time to switch gears.

“Do you know if anyone ever got to talk to that bank guard who got shot?”

“Robbery talked to him. He’s pretty banged up. An old guy like that? You don’t bounce back from a gunshot wound at that age.”

“Did he say if he shot one of the suspects?”

“He said he thought he winged one of them in the arm. He said the guy was a skinny little shit. He didn’t see the third guy. That’s the one who dropped him.”

So he zapped one of the two suspects he saw and the one he didn’t see nearly blew him away. That’s how it happens, isn’t it? I can’t tell you how grateful I am that the Sarge turned me into a real trained observer. I practice those exercises every day. They’ve already saved my ass a few times.

“Did he manage to get a description of them?”

“Yeah. Three ski masks.”

Like I needed to ask. Forget about registering guns. I say we make people register ski masks. In Arizona? There’s only one reason why you’d ever need a ski mask and it’s got nothing to do with skiing.

“Allison, why are you beating yourself up over this case? Leave it to the detectives. That’s their job. If you happen to run across these punks, put some lead in their ass. Other than that, it’s not your problem anymore.”

“Easier said than done. I can’t shake the feeling that one of their robberies is going to go to shit and they’re going to end up killing somebody.”

“I don’t doubt it. They don’t strike me as pros. Do you remember Hoyt Buford? Now there was a pro!”

He was before my time. He robbed a bunch of banks across the southwest and nobody ever got hurt. He never even fired a shot. He never had to. They talked about him in the academy. The detective who gave the class was in awe of him. That guy had bank robbery down to a science.

“Maybe he should write a book about it?”

“He’s dead. He passed a few years ago.”

“And what? You’re saying they don’t make them like they used to?”

“They don’t. Back in the day, bank robbery was almost an honorable profession. The crooks were all about the money and nothing more. They went out of their way not to hurt anybody. The ones who did? They either got snitched off or their fellow crooks took care of them – permanently! Guys like these punks give the trade a bad name. The real pros back in the day? They’d never stand for it. These punks would be somewhere out in the desert six feet under by now. We’d never find their bodies.”

Ah, yes! The good old days when the outlaws policed their own. I don’t think it was ever as romantic as people make it out to be, but I know it was different back then. Some of the bad guys did have a sense of honor. They were proud of being outlaws and they made sure they had reason to be. Anymore? Not even! Crooks today really suck.

“I guess we’re stuck with these guys.”

“They’ll screw up. Guys like that always do. All it takes is one mistake and we’ll be all over them.”

“I’m just afraid the mistake will have a body count.”

“We do what we can, Allison. We do what we can.”

I know. I just hate it when it’s not enough.

“I’ve got to call this hospital and have them verify Muldoon showed up there with an ass full of teeth marks.”

“Why bother? There’s a picture of it up on the bulletin board in the hallway.”

That sounds like cops. We have a really sick sense of humor sometimes. I’ll bet one of the responding officers snapped a picture of Muldoon’s ass before the EMTs got there and he printed it out and posted it for everyone to see. I hate to admit it, but I might’ve done the same thing if I’d been there. Well, I might as well go see it. A picture is worth a thousand words, isn’t it?

“Rane! Let’s go! We may have gotten a break!”

The Sarge. A break? What? What happened?

“What break?”

“A guy just turned up at the Bagley clinic with a suspicious gunshot wound to the arm!”

“Sarge, is there any such thing as a gunshot wound that isn’t suspicious?”

“Quit splitting hairs! We need to go check it out! Five Baker is on-scene already! Let’s go!”

This could be the break we’ve been hoping for. That guard said he winged the guy in the arm. None of the crooks from the last bank holdup seemed to be injured, but maybe that’s because his wound was pretty minor and they bandaged it up? Even if it was a minor hit, gunshot wounds tend to get infected if you don’t get them properly treated, as I told you already. Maybe now he’s in bad shape and decided to break cover and go for treatment? If that’s the case, then we might be able to round these guys up before the end of the shift. God, I hope so!

The Bagley Clinic. What a total dump! You’d have to be out of your mind to seek treatment for anything here. I wouldn’t trust these guys to pop a blister on my foot! Look around you! It’s fucking filthy as shit in here! This place is the lowest of the low: the place you go when you’re desperate for medical attention and you either won’t live to make it out of the parking lot or you’re in so much trouble that you can’t risk seeing a decent doctor. This clinic has been cited for all sorts of violations about a hundred times since I joined the force. How it manages to keep its doors open is a mystery to me. You’d be amazed at how many people have sought treatment here for minor stuff only to wind up in an ambulance rushing to the hospital to save their lives afterward. It’s really that bad. The medical staff here are a bunch of total quacks. Believe me, that’s putting it charitably. You’d be better off going to a veterinarian for open-heart surgery.

Case in point: we got information that a guy showed up here with a suspicious gunshot wound to his arm. So what did we find when we got here? A guy with a not so suspicious gunshot wound to his leg! I get that medical school is really tough, but I’d expect anyone who graduated from one to know the difference between a guy’s arm and his leg! Evidently, the people here missed that class. This guy? For starters, he’s not a skinny white guy. He’s a kind of fat Hispanic guy. He’s also totally drunk. I can smell the beer on him from five feet away. His shirt is soaked with it. He’s lying on one of those examination tables with a blood-soaked towel on his leg, just above the knee. He’s too damned drunk to be in a lot of pain, which is lucky for him. We got a look at the examination report. People, here’s a little safety tip for you: number one? Don’t play with your gun when you’re drunk. You’re just asking for trouble. Number two? Make sure the goddamned thing is unloaded before you do stupid shit like point it at your leg and pull the fucking trigger! There are powder burns all around the bullet hole in his pants, so we know the shot was fired at point-blank range. And judging by the direction of the bullet’s path on the x-ray, it’s pretty obvious this dickhead accidentally shot himself. I hate to say it, but we get a lot of that around here. The ones who grew up with guns tend to know what they’re doing. They don’t do stupid shit like this. The ones who didn’t? Take a fucking safety class, why don’t you? They’re free! And they can keep you from doing stupid shit like this! I don’t know how you say “Hopalong” in Spanish, but that’s what they’re going to be calling this dork from now on! What a dickface!

Since it’s an accidental self-inflicted injury, it’s not a crime. Well, not unless you count felony stupid. It’s an injury report; plain and simple. The patrol unit can handle it. So much for our red-hot lead, huh? We’re back to square one. That sucks. We’ll get a statement from the doctor and call it complete. God, would you look at this doctor? This guy made it through medical school? If I saw this guy walking toward me with a scalpel, I’d empty my gun into his brain!

“Doctor, is he going to need surgery?”

“Yes, the bullet must be removed from the leg. We cannot do it here.”

I don’t know where his accent comes from. I can’t place it. Probably someplace I never heard of where they give you a medical degree if you can read and write.

“You know this dork shot himself, right?”

“No, he says the gun went off by itself. Very bad.”

Oh, sure! All by itself! Happens all the time! What a load of bullshit!

“Doctor, he’s drunk and he shot himself by accident. We’ve seen a thousand of these.”

“Why would he shoot himself? That makes no sense.”

See what I mean?

“He’s a total dickface! They do things like that!”

I’d confiscate his gun if he had it with him, but it’s probably at his house or with whoever drove him here. Whoever it was, he didn’t stick around to wait for the police. Clearly, he was the brains in this duo.

“Sergeant Miss, you must know guns are very dangerous. They shoot all the time by themselves. I have seen it many times as a doctor.”

Sure you have, pal! No doubt by assbags who come in here and feed you that crap! I’ll bet a lot of them were dickheads who were hit by our bullets!

“Any recent cases?”

“Yes, of course! Maybe three days ago? The man comes in; his gun went off by itself. Right here. I saw it myself.”

He’s pointing at his right forearm. I wonder if that was our bank robber?

“What did this poor unfortunate look like?”

“A white man. As tall as you. Older than you, but not much. Young man. Yes, his gun shot by itself. Right here. He was very fortunate. The bullet was not in his arm. It went across, right here.”

That sounds like a grazing wound. Maybe it’s him? It can’t hurt to check it out.

“What was this guy’s name?”

“I don’t remember. He was not here for very long. I suture the wound for him. After that, he leaves right away.”

I’ll bet he did! Right before you notified the cops that you had a gunshot victim in your clinic!

“You called the police, right? You know you have to do that whenever there’s a gunshot wound.”

And that “I’ve suddenly got a stick shoved up my ass” look on his face tells me he didn’t make any notification. Fucking quack! He probably doesn’t even know how to dial a phone!

“I want to see the record on him. Now!”

“I cannot show you records. He must have his privacy. I am a doctor. I must respect his wishes.”

Uh-huh! How would you respect fifty thousand volts shot right through your ass?

“Failure to report a gunshot wound is a crime. Do you want to go to jail?”

“Why? Why do you say I go to jail?”

I’m about ready to neuter this assbag! Just get me a pair of scissors and a stapler! Fucking dickhead!

“Sarge? I’m not getting through to him! You try!”

This guy might not be taking me seriously because I’m a woman. Fine! He can try that shit with the Sarge! I don’t think he’s going to like the response!

“Listen up, you sack of liquid shit! You’ve got five seconds to get me those records and three of them are gone! Do you see me counting? One! Two!

And there he goes! Running straight for the filing cabinet, I presume! See? I told you! He’s got the file! Nice work, Sarge!

“Is it our guy, Sarge? Do we have a name?”

Damn! The Sarge looks pissed! Not a good sign!

“You stupid son of a motherfucking bitch! This is the name he gave you?”

What’s the name? Let me see! Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!

“John F. Kennedy? That’s the name he gave you? Are you that fucking stupid?”

“I’m not stupid, Miss. That was his name. We wrote it down just like he said.”

Yes, and I’ll bet his address is in Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts! Fucking idiot!

“And did Mister ‘Kennedy’ show you any ID?”

“No, he just gave us his name. That was all we needed. We did not ask him for identification.”

Of course you didn’t! A couple of hundred dollar bills was all the ID you needed to see, wasn’t it? Total dickface!

“How did he pay for your ‘services?’ Cash, I’ll bet!”

“Yes, he paid cash. Many people pay cash.”

No shit! They’re called people who are wanted by the cops! We should throw this dickhead in the lockup for being so stupid!

“We’re taking this file as evidence. And we’re going to need your information. And you’d better have some ID or your ass is going straight to the jailhouse, pal!”


Oh, screw this crap!

“Because reasons! Go get your ID! Move it!”

I’d like to shove a stethoscope up his ass and pull it out through his dick! I’ll bet he’s not even a real doctor! He’s probably a goddamned used car salesman! Fucking idiot! I want to see his license and diploma! They’re probably both fakes!

“Do you think this could be our guy, Sarge?”

“Maybe. The physical description matches the skinny guy. It’s not much, but whoever he is, he didn’t want to leave his name and address. That tells me he’s fucking up somehow. We need to have a talk with this guy no matter who he is.”

Finding him won’t be easy. I’m sure the address is as fake as his name. Still, it’s something. Our assbag had a minor gunshot wound; this guy had a minor gunshot wound. Our assbag is a wanted criminal; this guy is clearly wanted for something. And the timing is right: he came in here right after that security guard shot our bank robber. It’s thin, but not too thin. We’ll turn it over to the Robbery detectives and see what they make of it. And then I’m going to have the city or the state or whatever shut this fucking human chop shop down for good! If nothing else, we’ll accomplish that! We ought to take a bulldozer to this place! The whole city would be better off for it!

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