The Case Ch. 01

Chapter One -- One Highway -- Two Fatalities

Author's Note: This story continues the tale of Poppy Evesham who I introduced to you in my story 'Witness'. It is not imperative that you read Witness before you read this story but I highly recommend it.

*****

The high beams of the car created a tunnel of light that cut through the old-growth forest encroaching both sides of the road. The driver concentrated on the road, Dolly and Kenny sang about Real Love on the only AM station he could find. He had no discs to put in the newly fitted compact disk player and the cassette player had chewed up his mix of favourite ballads.

He was tired and his right wrist ached. The brushed aluminium pelican case handcuffed to his wrist sat on the passenger seat and he was driving one-handed. The man was grateful that the car didn't have a stick shift.

The man peered through the gloom and his attention was caught by the eighteen wheeler that sat jack-knifed across the road like a wounded dinosaur. His first instinct was to drive around the obstruction because he had no intention of stopping to render assistance but the truck had closed both sides of the road.

The man was immediately circumspect and suspicious and as he slowed down he quickly whipped his hand off the wheel and reached into his jacket for his gun. He took it out and placed it on the seat beside the pelican case so that it was close at hand. He stopped well short of the truck and looked around carefully for the truck driver, his concentration focussed on the truck's cab.

The sound of the pistol tapping on the glass of the driver's side window triggered his death knell and he knew it. He reached for his pistol but the masked man standing beside his vehicle aimed his pistol at the driver's head and motioned for him to roll down the window. The driver complied.

"Hand over the case," the masked man said emotionlessly.

The driver didn't say anything; he just stared out the windscreen, his breath fogging in the cold.

"Give me the case and you're free to go," the masked man placed the muzzle of his pistol against the driver's temple.

"Why? I'm a dead man regardless," the driver was resigned to his fate.

The masked man pulled the trigger and blew the driver's brains out.

"Shit," the masked man cursed.

The masked man was a killer when he had to be but he didn't particularly like killing. There was nothing glamorous about killing another human being; no glory, nothing to brag about. There was nothing cool about it; the man you killed might have a family, a girlfriend or a wife, maybe kids. It wasn't like in the movies, like Rambo in First Blood where the violence was glorified. The driver's blood had sprayed into his eyes and blood, bone and brain matter was spattered around the car, the coppery taste of blood was in his mouth.

He put his gloved hand inside the car and unlocked the doors and walked around to the front passenger door. In his non-gun hand the masked man held a soft carry bag. He opened the bag and took out a handful of rags which he used to wipe the blood and gore off the case. Then he took a pair of bolt cutters from the bag and cut the chain connecting the driver's wrist to the case.

Whilst the masked man was carrying out his gruesome duties the truck driver came out of trees where he had been hiding, climbed back into the cab-over semi, fired up the engine and drove away. The masked man put the case down on the pavement and cleaned it as best he could. He took the pelican case and his soft carry bag and walked to where he had parked his own vehicle off the road. He tossed the case and the carry bag onto the back seat and drove away.

The whole episode had taken less than three minutes.

Five miles down the road, the now unmasked killer, was caught by surprise when a deer bolted out onto the road directly in front of him. He swerved to try to avoid the animal but he lost control of his vehicle and plowed into a red oak. He was not wearing a seatbelt and died instantly. The wreck was found by a passing motorist twenty minutes later. Emergency services arrived at the scene around four in the morning. A radio call to the on scene senior police officer informed him that a driver had been found shot behind the wheel of another vehicle five miles west of the crash site.

Another emergency services team was dispatched from the nearby township of Braidwood to deal with that incident and at this stage the incidents were not considered related.

*****

Penelope woke at six thirty because that was when her internal clock always woke her.

But there was another reason. The man lying in her bed spooning her was pressing his erect penis into the crevice of her buttocks and rubbing it against her pantyhose-clad ass.

Penelope wore pantyhose to bed for two reasons. One: because they kept her legs warm during the bitter-cold winter months. Two: because her partner, Elliot Granger, had a raging nylons fetish and loved to play with her ass, legs and other tender bits whilst encased in sheer nylons. Plus, she liked the feel of satin, nylon and other diaphanous fabrics against her body; they made her feel feminine and sexy.

Her own penis was tenting the front of her pantyhose and although it might make her a little late work, she was happy to fool around with Elliot for a while because the feel of his cock pressing on her ass was making her horny as hell. Last night was one of the few times that they had fallen asleep without making love and they both wanted to make up for it.

"Uh-uh," Elliot clamped his hand around her wrist and wrested her hand away from her penis.

He was proud of the fact that he knew how to make Penelope climax by just fucking her without her penis being stimulated by hand; it also turned him on immensely. Penelope sighed. It was going to take a while. Whilst she loved the delicious slow build-up and suspense that ensued from a prostate-only triggered orgasm, it took a while for her to climax that way, even though Elliot knew exactly where to press the head of his penis to incite the maximum amount of pleasure.

Elliot eased aside Penelope's pink satin babydoll panties and slid his cock inside her pantyhose and nestled his glans in Penelope's puckered bud. He could feel that she was lubricated. Penelope's routine prior to going to bed was to douche and lubricate in anticipation of sex.

"Are you ok?" Elliot whispered in Penelope's ear.

Her response was to take his penis in her fingers and adjust it so that Elliot's glans was positioned exactly where she wanted it and then push back against him. Elliot held her tight as he slid his long thick cock inside her until his pubis was pressing on her soft buttocks.

"Mmm," Penelope sighed.

She turned her head so that Elliot could kiss her briefly before she put her head down on the pillow and closed her eyes and let Elliot fuck her. Elliot was in no rush and used long slow strokes, purposely stimulating her sphincter and her prostate. Penelope's cock was straining against the diaphanous fabric of her pantyhose and she desperately wanted to stroke it. She knew that if she did she would climax almost immediately but she didn't want to disappoint Elliot and she was enraptured by the slow build up to her orgasm.

Although she loved Elliot deeply she fantasised about sexual encounters in her past whilst Elliot held her close and fucked her ass, nibbling on her ear and tweaking her nipples. Some of the fantasies she used to get off would have surprised Elliot if she told him the chimaera of previous sexual encounters. They often involved forced sex with multiple partners; back when she was known as Poppy and worked the streets for a living. She didn't understand herself why these recollections got her off but they did.

Elliot was working harder now, increasing the speed and depth of his fucking, his penis rubbing against her prostate and his hands roughly caressing her breasts, eliciting feeling of sublime pleasure. She was close to climax; her cock leaking a continuous stream of pre-ejaculate. Elliot was panting hard as he moved his hands from Penelope's breasts to her hips so he could hold her still and fuck her hard and Penelope obligingly pushed out her buttocks.

The steady build-up of pleasure intensified and began to radiate from her prostate; her cock quivered and ached as a result of the concentrated sensuality. The gossamer nylon encasing her penis was saturated with pre-seminal fluid. Elliot bit her shoulder and pulled her body hard against him and slammed his cock deep in her anus and ejaculated which triggered Penelope's release.

Her body began to shake violently as her cock erupted, flooding her pantyhose with steaming ejaculate.

The two lovers groaned and writhed against each other as their orgasms bloomed and then slowly began to dissipate. Elliot clung to Penelope until his penis began to contract then he rolled Penelope over, climbed on her body and rained kisses on her. His cock pressed against the squidgy mess of semen-soaked pantyhose which was now spreading into her panties. Not that either of them cared. They would have loved to have stayed in bed and do it all over again but both of them had to go to work.

Penelope waited until Elliot was totally relaxed and distracted then she slipped out from underneath him and evaded his grasp.

"Just a few more minutes please honey," Elliot pleaded.

Penelope stopped just out of reach and put her hands on her hips. She looked quite comical dressed in her pink satin babydoll pyjamas, the semen-sodden panties distended by her penis. The top was unbuttoned, displaying her ample breasts.

When Penelope and Elliot had been living together long enough to talk openly about it they had discussed her gender transition. Penelope had breast enhancement surgery when she was eighteen, paid for and arranged by her mother's lover who was also her pimp. Her breasts were bigger than she actually wanted but she had no say in the matter because at the time her mother's pimp and dealer had complete control over them both.

Penelope and Elliot had an in depth and intense discussion as to whether Penelope should complete gender reassignment. Penelope had finally said to Elliot that she would be willing to undertake vaginoplasty if that's what he wanted and needed for him to think of her as a real woman. Elliot had told Penelope that he loved her unconditionally and that he never thought of her as anything other than as a woman and actually preferred that she keep her genitalia intact, which was great because that was how Penelope also felt and so it was agreed. Penelope did not need a vagina to be a real woman.

As a stipend to Elliot, Penelope did not undertake the breast reduction she was considering, which of course would have been a simple matter of replacing her implants with smaller variants.

"No Elliot we are both going to be late for work as it is," Penelope wagged her finger at him.

She squealed like a girl when Elliot leapt out of bed and made a grab for her, his deflated penis had returned to full turgidity. She evaded him and made it to the ensuite bathroom unscathed. She slammed the door shut and locked it.

"No! You're not coming in; you can wait until I'm done," she responded to his pleas.

Elliot finally gave up and realised that Penelope was right and he padded his way down to the main bathroom to shave and shower.

Penelope was downstairs sitting at the breakfast bar drinking coffee when Elliot came down dressed in his uniform. Ten years earlier Penelope had moved into the house that Elliot shared with his sister Sharon and her partner Bethany. Elliot had left the city and returned to his job as Deputy Commander of the Braidwood Police Department. Shortly after that they had moved into their own home, a rustic homestead on five acres that that they had lovingly restored and modernised where necessary. Penelope's brother Robert had lived with them whilst he completed his studies at the Grosvenor School and had since moved out to attend university.

"You need to check your messages Commander. I told you there would be consequences for taking all morning exploring your licentious pursuits," Penelope chided him.

"Me? Pursuing my licentious pursuits? I didn't hear any complaints from you," Elliot replied as he played the recorded messages on the answering machine.

"I'm just a lowly small-town lawyer whereas you're the Commander of the Braidwood Police Department and your sister is pissed because she can't get hold of you to deal with a series of disasters on State Route 590," Penelope eyed her lover over the rim of her coffee cup.

Elliot's sister Sharon Granger was a senior Public Service Officer who manned the front desk at the police station and was responsible for staffing the emergency services telephone line and radio dispatch for the small municipal police force. She was the office manager and kept the place running smoothly. It was rumoured that the police officers of Braidwood PD were more scared of the Commander's sister than they were of the Commander.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Elliot slammed down the receiver and snatched his car keys off the table.

"Two goddamn fatalities on the same fucking piece of shit highway!" Elliot cursed.

He opened the cupboard and took his service weapon from the gun safe and slammed it into his holster. He took his fur-lined uniform coat off the hook and picked up his gloves.

Elliot knew better than to kiss Penelope on the lips after she had done her makeup for work. She was meticulous about her appearance. She was wearing a burgundy skirt and blazer business suit, crisp white blouse, flesh-toned L'eggs Sheer Elegance pantyhose and burgundy high heels to match her suit. Her carefully coiffed brunette hair was worn shoulder-length; a long way from the bottle-blonde hair with blue and cerise highlights that she had sported in a previous life.

Penelope had been studying law before she met Elliot and obtained her Juris Doctor degree one year after moving to Braidwood. She had worked at Bethany Williams' law firm as a legal secretary whilst she finished her JD and studied for the Bar. Penelope now worked as an Associate at Bethany Williams' practice. It was a small firm with two Partners and two Associates.

All of the work and effort Penelope had put into studying law would have been for nothing except for Elliot. When she worked the streets Penelope had been spending almost every penny she earned to put Robert through school and her dreams of becoming a legal secretary would be thwarted not only because of her profession but because of her gender identity.

Elliot had not only rescued Penelope from the streets he had used his contacts in city hall to have Penelope's birth gender changed from male to female and used his contacts in law enforcement to have her criminal record expunged. Elliot never told Penelope what this had cost him in favours and money but she knew that it was considerable. It allowed Penelope to acquire the documents that she needed to present herself as female.

Elliot kissed Penelope on the cheek and bolted out the door. Penelope heard the siren on his cruiser fire up when he exited the property gates. She rinsed her coffee cup, put on her heavy top-coast, picked up her keys and briefcase and went outside to her own car. Penelope drove a cherry-red Chevrolet Camaro IROC-Z, one of the luxuries she allowed herself as reward for rising from the life of a street hooker to passing the State Bar Exam and becoming a lawyer.

*****

Elliot called Sharon Granger on the police radio to get a sitrep. The whole of his small PD were deployed along State Route 590 west of Braidwood, half attending a single vehicle MVA fatality and the other half attending the fatal shooting of a motorist five miles west of the MVA. Elliot decided he would be of more value attending the shooting as it was likely a homicide.

He stopped briefly at the MVA where a black Chevrolet Blazer had its nose buried in a red oak. The driver's body was partially hanging out of the windscreen, his body covered with a tarpaulin.

"Looks like he lost control, skidded off the pavement and collected the tree. No seatbelt, no passengers, no other vehicle involved, no signs of foul play. No booze in the car but we'll get a BAC at the autopsy," Sergeant Beau Benstead said to Elliot through the driver's side window.

"However Chief, I think you should come look at this," Beau encouraged Elliot to get out of his car and go over to the wreck.

The paramedics and firemen dressed in winter coats and gloves were standing around the wreck shooting the shit waiting for the body to be released whilst another of Elliot's officers was taking pictures of accident. Two other officers were redirecting traffic and a tow truck driver was leaning on his rig smoking, waiting to tow the Blazer to the police impound lot.

"We found this on the back seat of the Blazer Chief. We've photographed it in situ, tagged it and logged into the evidence log," Beau pointed to the silver pelican case and the black ripstop carry bag on the back seat of a police cruiser.

"Looks interesting," Elliot noted the pelican case was fitted with high quality security locks and the remains of the handcuff chain attached to the handle.

"So does this," Beau used an extendable steel wand to open the carry bag and expose the 9mm semi-automatic pistol, the bolt cutters and bloody rags.

"Get someone to get these bags back to the station and put into the evidence locker asap. Make sure he follows correct procedures and wears gloves; this is very suspicious Beau," Elliot said.

He felt his skin prickle as his sixth sense kicked in.

"I'm going to leave you in charge here Beau. I need to get down the road to the shooting but two fatalities on the same stretch of road, one involving gunshot wounds and the other where the victim is carrying a gun in his car raises my hackles. Let the paramedics take the body but I don't want the vehicle moved until I get the crime scene crew here," Elliot eyed the pelican case and the carry bag suspiciously.

"Sure thing Chief. Just what I was thinking," Beau nodded in agreement.

"The crime scene crew are at the shooting fatality but I'll release them as soon as I can," Elliot was already walking back to his cruiser.

Elliot sped off down the road and Beau Benstead called over Pete Coombs, the most junior officer on the Braidwood PD. He told Pete to only handle the pelican case and carry bag whilst he was wearing gloves and to instruct Sharon Granger to do the same when she checked them into evidence. Pete knew that having a rookie instruct Sharon on how to do a job she had been doing for fifteen years would cause her to rain down havoc on Pete Coombs and he was sorry he wouldn't be there to witness it.

"You drop that evidence off then hightail it back here. Don't stop to flirt or to get coffee," Beau instructed the rookie.

Even though everyone knew that Sharon Granger was lesbian, most of the officers couldn't resist flirting with her. She was older than most of the officers being in her early forties but she was a good looking woman who had a penchant for wearing tight-fitting clothes, short skirts and heels. She might be the boss's sister and a cantankerous bitch when she wanted to be, but she was one sexy matron and she knew it.

Pete Coombs pulled onto Route 590 and fired up the rooftop flashers. He was pleased to be given what he considered to an important task but wished he had an excuse to fire up the siren as well as the lights, but he knew it was uncalled for.

He did not notice the nondescript sedan take up station behind him two vehicles back. The car looked innocuous but the rumbling growl betrayed the high-power engine under the hood.

The driver of the beat-up sedan parked across from the Braidwood police station and watched Pete Coombs drive into one of the dedicated police parking spaces, put on a pair of latex gloves and take the carry bag and the pelican case inside. He tapped his fingers nervously on the steering wheel carefully watching the station and the surrounding streets. Both foot and vehicular traffic was light. After a few minutes the man killed the engine and walked to the corner to use the pay phone. He took a card from inside his overcoat and dialled the number written on it.