tagMatureHell Hath No Fury Ch. 09

Hell Hath No Fury Ch. 09

byD.C. Roi©

Passion In James County IV: Hell Hath No Fury

Chapter 9


"We had a vandalism incident in the Heights last night," Sergeant Dawson told the morning watch shift officers at roll call. "The lieutenant asked me to put extra patrols in that area for a while. You guys in the units assigned to that sector keep your eyes open for anyone up there who doesn't belong. You see something that doesn't look right, you check it out, you got that?"

The officers in the room all nodded. Tim Jackman wondered what he'd be doing. His partner had the night off and he assumed he would be assigned a temporary partner.

"Jackman," Sergeant Dawson said, "Since Dumont's off tonight, you'll be in an X-car in the East Sector. I want you to stay in the Heights. Jones, you and Mackey are assigned to regular patrol in the East Sector. If Jackman gets anything in the Heights, you get your asses up there five minutes before he calls for back up, you guys got that?"

"Got it, Sarge," the Jones and Mackey replied in unison.

Tim was happy with the assignment. "X-cars" were cars assigned to sectors in addition to the units normally assigned to patrol that sector. Usually only experienced officers were assigned to them. The fact that the sergeant had given him this assignment was a real honor.

"I'm going to spend as much time in that area as I can," the sergeant continued. "I don't think the asshole is going to be back, but if he shows up, we might have a chance of catching him if we're on the ball."

"Hey, sarge," Mackey called. "How's my partner supposed to get any sleep if you're hanging around all night?" Mackey's comment drew a chorus of laughs from the rest of the officers on night shift.

"Shut up, Mackey," his partner responded.

A half hour later Tim, who had radio call sign X-25, was cruising down a dark street in the residential area known at the Heights. He passed both the sergeant and the other officers several times, but nothing seemed to be out of order.

"There's Heidi's house," he thought as he cruised by the home of his former lover. "I wonder how she is? I wonder if she thinks about me as much as I think about her." A wry smile formed on his face. "Hell, I'm kidding myself. She probably doesn't think about me at all."

He saw a car was parked next to the curb, just down the street from the Tate house. Was there someone in it? He studied the car carefully while his patrol car moved by slowly. He couldn't see anyone in the vehicle. It wasn't unusual or illegal for cars to be left parked at the curb overnight in this area, so he kept going, but he did pick up the radio mike.

"X-ray twenty-five to Sam five," he said.

"Sam five," the sergeant replied.

"I have a parked car over here on Thomas," Tim said. "It appears to be empty. Did you see it when you rolled through there?"

"10-4, X-ray twenty-five," Sergeant Dawson replied. "I saw it when I went by there about fifteen minutes ago."

"Adam forty to Sam five and X-ray twenty-five," the radio said as patrolman Mackey joined the conversation. "We spotted it, too. You want us to check it out, sarge?"

"Negative," the sergeant replied. "It probably belongs to someone who lives up there."

Tim continued patrolling. The area he was assigned to was normally was part of a larger patrol sector that was one of the slowest in town for police activity. The officers in the sector car, Adam-forty, were assigned several calls, none of which turned out to be much, but no work came his way.

An hour or so later, Sergeant Dawson advised dispatch he was headed back to the station. Tim continued his patrol in the Heights. He liked police work, but he'd tire of quickly if every night was like this one.

About three a.m., he was approaching the street where Heidi lived again. The car he'd seen earlier was still there, but something seemed different about it. He strained to see. Was there someone in it? Then the car's lights came on and it began moving. He pressed down on the accelerator and the cruiser surged forward. The car moved away from the curb and started down the street, accelerating slowly.

The situation looked suspicious to Tim. He followed the car a while, getting close enough to read the license plate. The light from the streetlights let him see the driver, who was acting nervous, glancing in the rear-view mirror. He decided it wouldn't hurt to find out what was going on. It was probably someone who worked some weird shift going to work, but it could be the vandal.

He picked up the radio mike. "X-ray twenty-five to dispatch," he said into the microphone. "I'm stopping a dark colored Olds Cutlass, registration William-William-George, seven-four-three, at the intersection of Johnson and Eighteenth."

"Copy, X-ray twenty-five," the dispatcher replied, "You're stopping a dark colored Olds Cutlass, William-William-George, seven-four-three, at the intersection of Johnson and Eighteenth."

"Adam-forty to dispatch," the radio said. "We'll back up X-ray twenty-five. ETA five."

"Copy, Adam-forty," the dispatcher said.

"Sam five to dispatch," Sergeant Dawson joined in. "I'm rolling toward Johnson and Eighteenth. ETA five to seven."

"Whoever's in that car's going to get quite a reception," Tim thought. "Let's light him up and see what happens." He reached down and flipped the switches on the cruiser's control panel that turned on the light bar on the cruiser's roof. The light bar came to life, bathing the car ahead of him in brilliant flashing blue light. Immediately, the car's brake lights came on, it swerved to the curb, and stopped.

Tim pulled in behind the car, placing the cruiser exactly the way he'd been taught at the academy. He flipped a switch and the blue lights stopped flashing. Bright white light lit up the car ahead of him as he switched on the floodlights called "takedown lights" located in the light bar on the cruiser's roof. Blue and yellow lights and a yellow directional arrow flashed to the rear of the cruiser.

Tim debated whether he should wait for backup to arrive, then decided not to. He punched the registration number of the car into the computer then he took his heavy aluminum flashlight and got out of his cruiser. Holding the light in his left hand, he approached the car. He unsnapped the strap on his holster and kept his hand on the butt of the 9mm automatic pistol on his belt as he moved closer to the vehicle he'd stopped.

He shined his flashlight in the car's window. A portly, balding man, looking very frightened, sat in the car, staring up at him. The window of the car glided down. "Is...is something wrong, officer?" the man asked.

"May I have your registration, license, and insurance card, please, sir?" Tim asked. He kept his hand on his gun. At the academy they taught him that most killers don't look like killers, and that carelessness is what gets cops killed. Just because this guy looked like an accountant didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. He watched the driver fumble for the papers he had asked for, then the man handed them out the window.

"Thank you, sir," Tim said, taking the papers. "Please remain in your vehicle. I'll be right back."

He walked back to his cruiser, got inside, and punched the information from the man's license and registration into the cruiser's computer terminal. As he did, he saw headlights approaching from the other direction.

A car slid to a stop at the curb opposite Tim's car, and blue lights began flashing on the roof. "Adam forty, we're off with X-ray twenty-five," the radio said.

Another car slid to a halt behind Tim. "Sam five off with X-ray twenty-five and Adam forty," Sergeant Dawson said.

Tim got out of his car just as Sergeant Dawson reached it. The other two officers stood across the street, next to their cruiser, watching carefully.

"What have you got, Jackman?" Dawson asked.

"Registration and license check out," Tim said. "Guy's name is Milton Bingham. He lives at 124 West Ferndale. Car's registered to him. No motor vehicle or criminal record. Nothing in CAD, either." CAD was the department's "computer aided dispatch" system that kept track of additional information on individuals.

"That address is clear on the other side of town," Sergeant Dawson said. "What the fuck is a guy who lives over there doing in this neighborhood this time of night?"

"Why don't we ask him?" Tim said.

He and Sergeant Dawson approached the car.

Milt Bingham peered out at the two police officers standing next to his car. "Is there a problem, officers?" he asked again. His voice quavered as he spoke.

"Would you please step out of the car, sir?" Tim said, standing back to allow the car's door to open. "And please, sir, keep your hands where I can see them at all times."

"I...I don't understand," Milt said. He did as he was told and got out of the car, carefully keeping his hands in plain view.

"Mr. Bingham, would you mind explaining what you're doing in this neighborhood this time of night?" Sergeant Dawson asked.

"Why?" Bingham said. "Did...did I do something wrong? I...I wasn't speeding."

"Mr. Bingham, it's three o'clock in the morning," Sergeant Dawson said. "Your car has been parked down the street for the last two hours, and you live about five miles from here. You have to admit that looks more than a little suspicious. We'd like some answers."

Bingham looked a little sheepish. "You'll think I'm foolish, I'm afraid," he said.

"Why don't you let us decide that," the sergeant responded.

Bingham inhaled deeply, then let his breath out with a loud sigh. "Well," he said, "I...I'm the assistant principal at Jamestown High School. One of our female employees, a dear friend of mine, has been receiving obscene phone calls. I...I thought, maybe..." He shrugged and looked at the policemen. "I thought it might help if I hung around her house, just in case the person making the calls tried to do something to hurt her." He shrugged again. "I know I'm probably being foolish, that it's silly, but I...well, as I said, the lady is a dear friend and..."

"What is the lady's name?" Sergeant Dawson asked.

Bingham looked from Tim to the sergeant. "Ah...are...are you going to disturb her?" he asked. "I...she doesn't know what I'm doing and I...I'm afraid she'd be terribly embarrassed if she knew..."

"What's her name?" Dawson said.

"Ah...Tate, Heidi Tate," Bingham said. "She's our school nurse."

Tim was surprised when the man mentioned Heidi's name. "Somebody's making obscene calls to Heidi!" he thought. "Damn!" He looked at Bingham. "So she and he are 'dear friends', huh? I wonder what the hell that means." He decided he didn't like Mr. Milt Bingham.

"Wait here a minute, please, Mr. Bingham," Sergeant Dawson said. He started back to his cruiser. A few minutes later, he returned. "We did get a complaint about obscene phone calls from a Heidi Tate," he said. "Mr. Bingham, what you're doing isn't going to help her and could have gotten you in trouble. We've had some vandalism problems in this neighborhood and we've increased the number of patrols. Your friend will be fine. We'll make sure of that."

"Ah...yes, of course," Bingham said. "I knew I was being silly when I came over here, but..." He looked sheepish. "I mean, I just thought, maybe, I could do something to help. I...I won't do it again."

Tim handed Bingham's papers back to him and the man got back in his car. "Officer?" he said.

"What?" Tim asked.

"You...you won't tell Heidi...Mrs. Tate what I was doing tonight, will you?" Bingham asked. "I...I'm afraid she'd...she'd be very angry with me if she knew."

"We aren't going to bother her," Tim said.

"Thank you," Bingham said. He started his car and drove off.

"Jesus Christ," Sergeant Dawson said. "What a stupid fucker he is. How the hell does he think he's going to stop someone from making obscene phone calls by sitting in front of the victim's house?"

Mackey and Jones had walked across the street to where Tim and Sergeant Dawson were standing. "You think he coulda been the one made the obscene call?" Mackey asked.

"If he did, he didn't do it from his car and he's been here two hours," Tim replied. "I checked. He didn't have a cell phone in the car."

"What the hell does a wimpy little jerk like him think he's gonna do?" Jones asked.

"It takes all kinds, I guess, sarge," Tim said.

"Yeah, but why do they all have to live here in Jamestown," the sergeant responded, shaking his head. "Christ, it's bad enough we get the usual compliment of brain-dead dip shits over in Central Sector, now they're moving up here?"

Tim and the other officers got back in their cruisers and returned to patrol. The rest of the night was uneventful. At seven the next morning, Tim returned to headquarters, turned in his cruiser, and headed home.

When he got to his apartment, he let himself in, walked to the bathroom, stripped off his clothes, then headed for his bedroom. Because he slept during the day, he kept the blinds drawn. He entered the darkened room, slid into bed, and got the surprise of his life. Somebody, a naked somebody, a naked female somebody, was in his bed!

"I didn't think you'd ever get home," Carol Ann whispered. "I was feeling lonely earlier, so I let myself in, figuring I'd surprise you when you got home. I was just about to go back to my place." Her hand slid down over his belly and found his cock, which immediately began to swell.

"Oooohh!" she purred, "I like the feel of this! You're glad to see me! You don't mind that I let myself in, do you, Tim?"

"Ah...no," Tim stammered. What she was doing to his cock felt so good...

"You're gonna like this..." Carol Ann said. She threw back the covers and, before Tim realized what she had in mind, she had his cock in her mouth. He succumbed to onrushing passion as his landlady's mouth slid up and down his rapidly stiffening pole.

"God, I love how big your cock is!" Carol Ann groaned, moving atop him, his cock gripped in her hand. She lowered herself onto it.

Tim laid there, barely able to understand what was going on. What he could comprehend was how wonderful it felt to be deep inside Carol Ann's hot channel. His hips surged powerfully off the bed, he grabbed the woman's lean hips, and held her against him as his cock lunged into her.

"God! You make me feel so good!" Carol Ann groaned softly, her tiny breasts bobbing, her body quaking, as Tim thrust his cock into her repeatedly. "Damn! Oh, Damn! Jesus! I needed this! I've been thinking about your hard cock all night!"

Tim kept ramming into her. All of his pent up emotion was about to be released. Then it was. "Commmminnnnngggggg!!!! Oh, Godddddddd!!!!" he groaned as he exploded.

"Yeahhhhhhhhhh!!! Oh, yeahhhhhhhhhhh!!!! Take meeeeee!!!! Oh, God, Tim, give it to meeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!" Carol Ann groaned as her body went into a rictus of delight. Her hips began to writhe wildly. "Yeahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!! Yeahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!! Yeahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!! Yeahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!"

Tim's quivering body released a hot, surging flood, filling Carol Ann's quavering hole to overflowing. His fingers dug into her soft flesh as he spewed his seed into her.

Sated, Carol Ann lay in his arms and kissed him softly. "I am so glad you're living here!" she whispered, "You're the best! The absolute fucking best!" She kissed him again. "I better get back to my place. My mother's coming over to take me shopping this morning and I don't think Mom would be to thrilled if she found out what I'm doing with the tenants." She kissed him. "You sure you don't mind that I surprised you?"

"Ah...no," Tim admitted. He was satisfied, but the idea that she could get into his apartment any time she wanted to bothered him. What if he'd brought another girl home with him? He had to think about that. He also wondered about Carol Ann's husband, who he'd never seen since he moved in. Where was the guy? What would he think if he found out Tim was sleeping with his wife?

Carol Ann kissed him again. "See you later, stud," she said. She slipped out of bed, put on her clothes, and left.

Tim rolled over, pulled the covers over him, and fell asleep. For reasons he couldn't fathom, he dreamed of Heidi Tate.

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