Criminal Behavior

***All characters are over 18 and are fictional. Any resemblance to any real-life persons is purely coincidental.

***My apologies to the law enforcement community if any police procedures mentioned here are inaccurate, this is just a story after all.

Thank you HeyAll for your advice on this one.

.....

He saw the lights from a distance through the trees. There was a small rocky path that few people in the area knew about that led to an open area behind the trees. Most of the time it was young people who would sneak off there for a little late-night rendezvous in their cars. The problem was that it was private property, owned by Old Man McRory, who was a cranky son-of-a-bitch. If he had noticed any cars in that part of his property, he would've called the Sheriff's department to have anyone there arrested. The sheriff's deputies have an agreement with each other to simply scare anyone they see there; there was no sense in getting some kids in trouble just for having a little fun late at night with each other.

Deputy Hauser was working the late-night shift that he volunteered for to get out of the house for a few nights. He had been fighting with his wife for weeks now. He was pretty sure they were on the verge of a divorce. He admitted to himself that it was mostly his fault; he cheating on her too many times over the years. They had three kids, and his wife was a devout Christian, never wanting to think about a divorce, but he knew eventually she would leave him no matter what her beliefs told her.

So, he thought taking some late-night shifts would give them a much-needed break from each other until things calmed down. He also thought if he kept himself busy, he wouldn't be thinking about cheating on his wife again. He had been trying to be a better husband; he broke it off with the few women he was sleeping with on the side and started listening to self-help tapes to help him understand himself better and learn to be a better husband. That was another reason he had been taking the late shifts, he wanted to listen to those tapes in private while he was on patrol. If anyone in the department learned he was listening to those tapes, they would never stop making fun of him.

He was half way through chapter 8 of his self-help tapes that dealt with channeling positive thoughts when he saw those lights in the McRory woods. He turned them off and drove into the rocky pathway to get to the clearing where he saw a luxurious BMW with an out-of-state license plate parked in the middle of the area. He pulled up and parked his car behind the BMW, hitting his high beams to get their attention; there was no sense of hitting the police lights and scaring them to death.

At first, he just saw from the rear windshield of the BMW a man in the driver's seat and thought the driver was alone. A second later, a woman's head pulled up from the man's lap with a startled expression on her face. Hauser couldn't help having a small laugh at the situation; normally, he would find a couple making out of having just finished having sex in the back seat of the car; this time, he interrupted a blowjob.

Hauser stepped out of his car, took out his flashlight, turned it on and held it up by his head like how all trained law enforcement officers do. He got near the driver's side window and signaled the driver to pull down his window. The man had just finished fixing his pants when Hauser showed up and immediately rolled down his window.

"Can I help you, sir?" the driver asked with a nervous smile.

Hauser got a good look at the man; he was at least 30 with short black hair and a patchy beard. He wore jeans and a short-sleeved shirt that showed off several arm tattoos and one on the side of his neck as well. Hauser recognized that at least three of his tattoos were prison signs, immediately letting him know who he was dealing with.

He then got a good look at the woman next to him. She was very young with long, dark red hair. She wore a black mini-skirt with fishnet stockings and a low-cut short-sleeved red top that showed off much of her cleavage line. Hauser was impressed with her bust size and couldn't help pointing his flashlight at her cleavage; he was being obvious about it, but he didn't care.

Hauser pointed his flashlight at the driver to put his focus back on him.

"Roll down your window," Hauser ordered.

The driver did as he was told.

"Can I help you officer?" the driver asked.

Hauser replied, "This is private property. You shouldn't be here."

"I'm sorry, Sir, my girl and I were driving for a while and just wanted a break."

"Oh, is that what everyone is calling it now?" Hauser asked with a little smile on his face before pointing his flashlight back at the woman. "How old are you, miss?"

"Becky is over 18," the driver assured him.

"I was asking the young lady. And usually, when someone has to insist the woman, he's with is over 18, she usually isn't."

"I'm 23, sir, I can show you mi ID," she replied.

She grabbed her purse, which was in the back seat, took out her driver's license and handed it to Hauser. Her name was Rebecca Myers, from what her heard, she goes by Becky. She was 23 years old and from Minnesota, about four states away. He thought she was still very young to be where she was, especially with the man she was with, but he was satisfied that she was of legal age and handed her license back to her.

"Now let me see your license and registration," Hauser ordered the driver.

"Of course." The driver nervously got his license from his wallet and the registration from the glove compartment. "It's not my car, though, I'm just borrowing it."

"I still need to check it out," said Hauser, as he took a look at the driver's name on the license. "Owen Smith from North Carolina, you're a long way from home. Sit right here, I'll be right back."

Hauser walked back to his car; the normal routine for finding people fooling around in their cars on the McRory property was to just scare them off. But Hauser had a bad feeling about the driver; he was acting too nervous for a guy who had just been caught getting a blowjob from his girlfriend. Also, the BMW's license plate says it's from Indiana, and the woman's driver's license says she's from Minnesota, and now he's seeing that the driver's license is from North Carolina. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but he thought he should check it out.

Becky sat silently in her seat as she watched her boyfriend get more nervous by the second. She had warned him not to stop in the woods, saying that someone could see them off the road. But he was insistent on taking a break from driving. She assumed he meant just taking a nap, which was odd because she knew they weren't far off from the motel they were heading to. But it turned out that he just wanted a blowjob; apparently, he couldn't wait to get one at the motel. She was too tired to give him a blowjob, but he was very insistent. Now they were had a Sheriff's deputy questioning; she wanted to say, 'I told you so' very badly, but held back.

"This is not good," said Owen.

"Why?" She asked. "I thought your friend from prison gave you a near-perfect fake ID."

"The keyword there is near-perfect, sweetheart," he snapped at her. "I never tested it with a real cop before."

"Damnit, I should've known that would be a problem when all he did was change your last name," she told him. "Seriously, why would he choose Smith, of all names? That's such a cliché alias."

"Also, I don't know how else to tell you this, but we don't know if this car has been registered stolen yet."

Becky got mad and gave him a small punch in the arm, "You said you borrowed this car from a friend."

Owen continued, "Not exactly. It is from a friend I know who has it in a storage unit while he's in prison, but I didn't ask to borrow it. I know he has someone paying the storage fees for him, but I don't know how often they check on the car."

After hearing this revelation, Becky realized that they had the car for a couple of weeks now, so there knew there was a good chance it may have been reported stolen. She was now getting extra nervous herself; Owen assured her that everything would be OK, but now she was scared of being an accomplice.

"I need to ask you something," she began to say. "That burglary you did of the guy whose house I told you about, were you caught in any way?"

Owen was silent for a moment, trying to decide what he should tell her.

"It turned out the old man came home early from his trip and caught me," Owen revealed. "I had to hurt him to get away with the loot."

Becky suddenly got chills and had trouble breathing.

"You son-of-a-bitch."

"I didn't kill him," he assured her.

"He was an old man."

"Not that old," he replied. "And it was dark, so he didn't see my face, so we're in the clear."

"Still, I worked hard to get you that information so it could go smoothly and so no one would get hurt."

"I told you, he came home early!" he yelled at her. "I can't be blamed for that now, can I?"

Becky felt sick to her stomach. The old man she was referring to was a fairly wealthy older man named George. He was in his mid-fifties and used to visit her at the strip club she was working at. He wasn't a dirty old man like some of the others who kept thinking they could offer her money to fuck her no matter how many times she said no. He was just an eccentric older man who liked to buy her drinks, buy champagne courts with her, and always left a big tip.

George also liked to drink heavily and often the club paid for an Uber to take him home; not because it was the right thing to do, but because it was a good investment to keep him alive and coming back to spend more of his money at the club.

Sometimes, when he drank too much, it made him talk too much as well. One day, he couldn't help mentioning some money and jewels he had stored away in his house. She never thought about using that kind of information at the time and kept it secret.

Later on, she met up with Owen, the ultimate bad boy type that she always fell for. She knew he was trouble, and eventually she found out he had several warrants out for him, but she only found it more exciting. She also liked the fact that he didn't care that she was a stripper and never got jealous of her work like some men she used to date. That was one of the things he liked about her; he enjoyed hearing about her work and frequently boasted about dating a stripper to his friends.

Then one day, about a year after they first met, they began talking about leaving the state and going somewhere and starting a new life. She liked the idea of starting her life over and doing something new with her life. she liked stripping, but she knew she couldn't do it forever. She also liked the idea of settling down and being a housewife and mother; she never brought up parenthood with Owen out of fear that it would scare him off.

But starting a new life would require a lot of money, and Owen, being a career criminal, thought the best way to get it was to steal it. She didn't like the idea, but she went along with it. She heard several of his plans; some seemed good, while others were far too risky.

Owen was good at bypassing security alarms and breaking into safes, but the places he suggested had to go after had too much security and there was no way of knowing if they did have anything of value to steal or if anyone would be home to commit those burglaries. He said he would bring a gun in case anything happened, which immediately scared Becky. It was one thing to commit a burglary, but she didn't like the idea of risking someone else's life over it.

Then, one day, while she was giving a lap dance for George, who was getting extremely drunk again, he mentioned he was going away for a week to visit some family he hadn't seen in a while. She didn't like the idea of stealing from him, but she thought it was the only chance she and Owen would have at a safe burglary where no one would get hurt.

She also figured that George was so drunk that he would forget that he told her anything about his safety and that he was going on a trip. She was sure of it because she noticed that he often forgot what he had already told her in previous drunken conversations she had had with him.

Two days later, Owen had just gotten back from borrowing his friend's car, which she now learned was stolen, which also explains why he had to go about two states away to get it. She told him about George's safe and how he would be out of town for a week. He still wanted to take his gun, but she convinced him to leave it at home with her. She was now very glad she did that; if Own had taken the gun, she was sure he would've killed George instead of just hitting him.

The next night, Owen broke into George's house. His security system was easy to bypass. It took him a while to find the safe because that was the one detail George never mentioned to Becky. When he finally found the safe, it took him just under half an hour to crack it. He was ecstatic to see the amount of loot the safe had; it was more money and jewelry than George had led Becky to believe.

Owen took everything of value from it and was ready to leave when George suddenly walked into the front door. They saw each other, and that's when Owen punched him and knocked him on the floor. George was about to get up when Owen beat on him some more to make sure he was still down before running out the door.

When Owen got back to Becky's place, he lied and told her everything went smoothly. She was excited to see the money he got and was so turned on, she insisted that Owen fuck her hard and he obliged. The next morning, he convinced her to just abandon her apartment, never go back to her old job, and just get the hell out of the state. Becky was so excited she didn't think much about it and quickly packed one suitcase and one small bag, sent some goodbye texts to her friends and family, and they drove off.

They decided to take a cross-country trip to California and spent a couple of weeks staying at fancy hotels, seeing the sights, partying at nightclubs, and so on. Then, when they were only a day away from California and only an hour from the nearest motel, Owen insisted on getting a blowjob somewhere, and that's where they found themselves in the situation with the sheriff's deputy and Owen confessing everything to her.

She thought about her situation for a moment. As far as she knew, George was alright, and he had no idea it was Becky who sent Owen after his safe. She had been in contact with her family and friends over the last two weeks, and they would've said something to her if the cops were asking questions. But that didn't mean George didn't report anything or that Owen wasn't a suspect in the robbery. And it didn't mean there would be any suspicion directed at her; if not now, then later.

Also, even if they weren't under suspicion for the robbery, that didn't mean Owen wouldn't be caught with his fake ID, which he had just given the deputy, and there was no telling if the car was registered stolen yet. If they were taken in because of that, they would eventually find out his real name and the warrants he had on him. This could eventually bring up suspicion of the robbery if it ever comes up. If they discover the money and jewelry they stone in the car, there was a chance that cold link them to the robbery.

There was a lot that could go wrong at that moment, and suddenly, Becky felt her dream of living a better life slipping away from her. She didn't know what to do; she felt like crying but did everything she could to hold it back.

"You need to go out there and get him off our backs," said Owen.

"What? How the hell am I supposed to do that?" she asked.

"You saw the way he was looking at your tits, I think you know how," Owen replied.

Becky was shocked; she couldn't believe that Owen was asking her to seduce another man.

"Oh my God, you are just terrible," she said with a disgusted look.

Owen began to say, "Hey, we could both be in a lot of trouble here. That guy is a total horndog. I can tell he fucks around on his wife. You give him what he wants, I'm sure he'll leave us alone no matter what he finds out."

"How do you know he's married?"

"From his wedding ring, you dumb bitch," he snapped at her. "And that guy would fuck you in a heartbeat."

Becky thought about it for a moment. In the three years she worked as a stripper, she turned down a lot of offers for a lot of money from men who wanted to pay her for sex. She never thought she'd now have to whore herself to keep from getting arrested. She felt like crying again, but didn't.

"It may not work," said Becky.

"It's worth a shot," Owen replied. "Unless you want to risk going to prison."

She thought about it a little more. She really did not want to risk going to prison because of Owen's mistakes. So, she felt she had no other choice.

"Fine, I'll do it," she told him. "But don't you dare get mad at me if I enjoy it. I can't help myself if I do."

"I wouldn't blame you."

Becky took a moment to compose herself. She then quickly fixed her tits in her shirt to make them more noticeable than they already were and took out some perfume she had in her purse and sprayed herself a little. She opened the glove compartment and pulled out the flask of whiskey that Owen had there and took several gulps of it. Owen protested her drinking his whiskey, but she gave him an angry look and he backed down. She needed the alcohol to calm her anxiety, and she wasn't going to let him stop her.

"Give me one of your condoms," she told him.

"What? No," he replied. "I like this brand and I don't know if I can get them in this state."

"If this works, I'm not going to let him fuck me raw. I'm doing this for the both of us, so stop being so selfish and give me a condom, asshole."

Owen reluctantly took out one of his condoms from his pocket and handed it to her. Becky didn't have any pockets in her mini-skirt, so she just placed the condom under her shirt in her bra. Owen only had three left of his favorite condom brand and hated having to give up one of them, but he knew he had to.

Becky stepped out of the car, walked around to the back, and sat on the edge of the trunk. She looked the deputy directly in the eye as he was still checking Owen's ID. She gave him a very sultry look; one he knew all too well from the women he often cheated on his wife with.

"Young lady, please get back in your car," he told her from his open car window.

"I like it out here better with you," she replied.

Hauser got a good looked at her tits again. They were somehow better than what he saw when she was in the car. He got out of his vehicle and walked right up to her. He knew she was trying to play him, but he was curious as to why.

"What's going on here, miss?" Hauser asked.

"I just wanted to talk to you, that's all," she replied. "Maybe I can convince you to just let us go with a warning."

Hauser laughed. "Your boyfriend's ID was an obvious fake from the moment he showed it to me, and I don't mean because he used the last name Smith. And I just found out his car is reported as stolen. Is there anything else you need to tell me about what I might find?"

Becky felt a sense of relief that he said nothing about the robbery. For all she knew, it hadn't come up yet in his search, assuming she and Owen were listed as suspects.

"Listen, you could take us in because of some stupid car, or maybe I can pay you a fine to let us go," she said.

"You mean a bribe?" Hauser asked.

"I just want to offer you something you may want, in exchange for a little discrepancy."

Becky lifted her skirt up a little, grabbed her panties and pushed it down. She let it fall to the dirty ground and kicked it away. She could tell that Hauser was getting very turned off by this move.