How Do You Burn A Cop?

This is not exactly a BTB story. It's more of a BTC story with collateral damage. There is no sex here.

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How do you burn a cop? How do you get your revenge without being arrested and without all his cop buddies catching up with you? How do you defend yourself and who would believe you if they did? There was only one answer, one way to do it.

I pulled up and parked outside the police station in our medium-size town. My mind was racing and I needed to get the rage inside me under control. I kept repeating to myself, "Keep your cool! Watch your language. Don't cross the line. Do not threaten this asshole! Don't be intimidated. Make sure there are witnesses. Burn the bastard!" I kept repeating to myself "Don't cross the line. Don't cross the line." over and over again as I walked toward the station door.

I walked up to that thick, bullet-proof window and asked in as normal a voice as I could render, "Is Officer Jenkins here? I'd like to speak with him."

The female officer behind the window asked, "What is this in relation to?"

"I'm trying to save his life." That got her attention.

Two minutes later the arrogant shit is standing in front of me and grinning like he recognizes me.

"Officer Jenkins, I'm David Smith. I believe you know my wife?"

Now his grin has turned into a smirk. I can see the word "cuck" dripping off his lips. "How can I help you, Mr. Smith?"

I thought to myself, "I'm going to wipe that smirk off your face, you worthless fuck!"

With the most level, nonthreatening voice I could muster as if I were reading the news, I said, "I'm here to save your life, although to be honest it's probably too late. You're already as good as dead."

He did not take the news well. "You threatening me?!" He put his hand on his gun as three of his cop friends heard him and began to walk in our direction. Fuckin' coward!

I raised my voice just a bit so his friends could hear. "Not at all. You've already killed yourself. I'm just making sure you don't kill someone else." His buddies gathered around me as the female officer behind the glass watched everything.

I let my voice return to a normal, nonthreatening level. "You see, I watched you come out of my house this morning. When I went inside I found the bed that I normally sleep in was torn up and you left a few cum stains on the sheets. My wife gave me your name, but now that I see you I recognize you as the guy who fucked my wife. So I owe it to you to make sure you understand the full consequences of what you've done."

"If you hit her, you coward, I'll burn you. I'll drag you out and make you disappear!"

"Interesting threat. I can only assume your buddies here are complicit in your plans to break the law. However, I didn't lay a hand on her and I'm not threatening you. I'm just doing my civic duty to ensure that no one needs to die needlessly, except I suppose you, but I can't help that now."

His cop buddies were crowding in on me now. "You see, my wife is HIV positive and I'm guessing from the cum stains that you fucked her without a condom."

His buddies took a step back.

"About eighteen months ago I came home early from a business trip, much as I did this morning, and caught her with a guy she works with. I threw her out and divorced her. About a year later she tested positive. The woman she was living with, just a friend from work, kicked her out of her apartment and her parents disowned her. She showed up at my door with her bag in hand begging for a place to stay. Well, by then she was my ex-wife, but it's still hard to turn your back on all those years together. So I let her stay in my guest room. I'll give her credit; for once in her life she told me the truth. She told me about the positive test result. Needless to say, I've never fucked her since the day I threw her out. I don't know if that was the day she caught the virus, but I've been tested several times and so far I'm still negative. Can't be too careful, right?"

By now his buddies had taken two more steps back giving Officer Jenkins and myself plenty of room, but they were listening attentively.

"So, here's the thing. As far as I know, my ex hasn't gotten laid in at least six months. She's an habitual liar and a bit of a narcissist. Alcohol does not improve her truthfulness. I'm guessing you picked her up in a bar someplace, or maybe it's been an ongoing thing. I don't really care. Like I said, she's my ex. I just want to warn you that there's a good chance you've contracted the virus. It takes about six months to show up in the tests, but in the meantime it's possible for you to pass it along to someone else. You aren't married, are you?"

I could see from the band on his finger that he was.

"If you have sex with your wife, you really need to use a condom until you get the all-clear. Tell your wife you have a urinary tract infection or something. I'm sure you're good at lying to her by now."

I could see the hate in his eyes. He wanted to kill me, but there were witnesses. Good thing I decided to do this in the police station. What kind of bastard kills the messenger, anyway?

"Well, I just wanted you to know. You need to start getting yourself tested. I doubt my ex will tell you."

I nodded, turned, and walked toward the door. "You have a good day now!"

As I drove away from the station I could not keep the smile off my face. My wife was not HIV positive and she was not my ex-wife, yet. She will be. I was honest when I told Officer Jenkins that my wife was a stranger to the truth and more than a bit of a narcissist, even though I was less than honest when I told him he had been exposed to AIDs. Well, small lie. That's on me.

I watched my rear view mirror for the first few miles wondering if Officer Jenkins or his friends would be coming after me. I guess they had better things to do. It was fun to think about what chaos was taking place back at the station.

Twenty minutes later I pulled into my favorite diner to meet up with friends. I'd sent them a text in the early morning when I was driving back from Buffalo. I have the kind of friends who are always ready for a diner meal together. Our preference was breakfast, but lunch would do in a pinch. We generally sat and talked, make bad jokes and traded insults. Friends know a guy too well and half way through the meal they asked what was bothering me? After a deep breath I told them. If you can't tell your troubles to your friends, who can you tell? I'd always said that a meal with friends can be the best therapy a guy can get and that day they proved me right. To a man, they supported me and I knew their wives would, too.

The rest of lunch was a bit somber, but I knew I wasn't alone. They told me they'd watch my back if the honorless Officer Jenkins came after me. I'll confess that I drove for home feeling a good deal better than I felt driving away this morning. That didn't last.

When I reached home there were cop cars littering the street and a swarm of blue on my property. "Great!" I thought. "They've come for me."

I was stopped by an officer who seemed to recognize me. "Mr. Smith, would you please park over here and get out of your car?"

"I should tell you that people know where I am and I had lunch with five witnesses if you are planning something."

"Sir, would you please get out of the car?"

I got out, stood by my car, and waited. Eventually, a fat detective in a cheap suit walked toward me. "Mr. Smith, can you tell me where you were today?"

"As you probably know, I went to the police station this morning. Then I went to The Galley for lunch with friends. I have witnesses who will testify I was there."

"I'd like their names, but you're not under suspicion at the present time."

"So can you tell me what's going on, or are you going to keep me hanging?"

"Neighbors report that shortly before noon Officer Jenkins drove across your front lawn and crashed his cruiser into your porch. He then went into your house. We assume there was some sort of confrontation. We have a pretty good idea what they argued about since your performance at the station this morning did not go unnoticed. Neighbors heard two shots. We found your wife and Officer Jenkins both dead in the living room. His service revolver had been fired twice."

My wife was dead and the bastard was watching me to get my reaction. Not a suspect my ass! He was trying to spin this anyway he could to insulate the force from any liability.

You don't live half your adult life with a woman and not feel something when you're told she's just been killed. For the second time today I was overwhelmed by anger and grief. I intended to divorce her, but I didn't want her dead!

"She's not really your ex-wife, is she? You aren't really divorced, are you?"

"No."

"And that was all just a performance at the station this morning designed to get revenge on Jenkins, wasn't it?"

I looked him in the eye and said nothing.

"Well, I guess you got your revenge on them both. Congratulations. If I had my way I'd lock you up, but technically what you did isn't against the law. It's just something you'll need to live with."

"I'll be fine. I'm not a murderer. I'm not like your Officer Jenkins who shot a woman in cold blood."

It didn't take a trained detective to read the look on their faces. This was the second time today that I was glad to have witnesses.

I watched as EMS brought two gurneys from the house, each with a body bag. There was nothing for me to do there, so I got back in my car and I headed to my lawyer's office. I wasn't going to need that divorce after all, but I'd better be prepared in case someone decides that a lie is a greater crime than a bullet.