Mistrusting A MemoryChapter 20 free porn video

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Two weeks later Bob was coming home from the gym, still dressed in his sweats. McDill had instructed them, superfluously, not to see each other until after the trial. He had been noncommittal after his questioning of Bob, concerning what his defense would be. "I have some ideas," was all he'd say.

Bob turned the last corner and started toward the entrance to his apartment building. A car pulled to a stop at the curb next to him and the window rolled down.

"Get in!" came a male voice he recognized. It was Don Simpson, his old peer in the detective division.

"Why?"

"Just get in," said Don. He sounded anxious. "They might have your place staked out."

Bob didn't look around. He opened the door and slid into the seat. Simpson pulled out into traffic immediately.

"Man did you ever poke a stick in a hornet's nest," said Simpson.

"You investigating me now?" asked Bob.

"No, IA is taking care of that. You're on an occasional watch list. They aren't on you full time, but they're interested in your comings and goings."

"Why?" asked Bob.

Simpson looked at him with a look of disbelief. "Well duh," he said.

"So what do you want?" asked Bob.

"Why didn't you tell me about her when I told you the guy was her rapist?"

"Would it have done any good? What would you have done with the information?"

"I don't know. Maybe nothing. We just wanted to close the cases. But if you'd have told me one of his victims was present at the time of the explosion..."

"I'd gotten to know her by then," said Bob. "We played racquetball together quite a bit." He was being careful to only say what IA already knew.

"Yeah, well that's just fuckin' weird too," said Simpson. "You got something going with her?"

"What do you want, Don?" asked Bob. "I'm probably already toast. You don't need to put another nail in my coffin."

"Not at all," said Simpson. "You're nowhere near being toast. They're trying to figure out how to keep you from being a fucking hero!"

"I don't get it," said Bob.

"Remember I told you we were going to shut everything down?"

"Yeah."

"Dillworth wouldn't let us run the DNA on the evidence we had from the different scenes. We had hairs and epithelials under the fingernails of a couple of the other victims. We even had some prints off of a can of soda the guy helped himself to at one scene, but Dillworth said there was nothing to compare it to."

"OK," said Bob.

"So we never actually tied him to all those rapes. The guy was buried as a John Doe and we had to fudge a little when we told all the victims their attacker was dead."

"OK," said Bob again.

"But when this Fetterman thing blew up, they went back and reinvestigated all the cases. They ran the DNA. It really DID tie all the cases together." He looked over at Bob.

"You have a point," said Bob. "Why not get to it?"

"The point is that now that she confessed to killing him, they had to identify him. The prosecutor was foaming at the mouth, because he was going to have to try her for killing a John Doe. You know that's almost impossible. The commissioner was livid. IA was already involved, but he called in the state patrol to review all the cases. So they ended up doing a full blown location analysis of all the rapes, and narrowed down where the guy probably lived. Then they did a house to house canvass, trying to find somebody who went missing. They got a hit on a guy named Gilbert Kinneson, who stopped paying his rent, but left everything in his apartment. The landlord still had all his stuff in storage, because he was afraid the guy would show back up and sue him if he got rid of it."

Don looked around, as if to see if they were being followed, and went on.

"So they took HIS driver's license picture and put it in some photo lineups on all the cases the task force had closed out. They got TEN more hits, Bob. All the women he'd left DNA evidence with nailed his picture, and there were TEN more beyond that, Bob! All cold cases. The motherfucker set some kind of record, and it was YOU who brought about the further investigation. The chief has egg all over his face and the Commissioner of Police is asking all kinds of questions about why this wasn't all done in the first place!"

"He should ask Dillworth why it wasn't all done in the first place," said Bob. "He's the captain of detectives. He's the one who called all the shots."

"We fucking know that," grumbled Simpson. "And by now IA knows it, too. He's running scared, because it's coming out how he mismanaged shit and caused cases to go cold. And IA tied all the cases together by using the MO on the Fetterman case ... including your questions about the orgasm thing."

"You're shitting me," said Bob, finally surprised by something.

"Not at all. They got an FBI profiler involved, when the original DNA came back, and he said it was definitely part of the guy's MO. So they went back and asked all the victims and every fucking one of them finally admitted it had happened during their rapes as well. And TWO of them admitted he came back again! It was so fucking bizarre I about peed my pants!"

"So how do you know all this?" asked Bob.

"One of the IA detectives is my brother-in-law," said Simpson, grinning. "I'm not supposed to know any of this, but I had to tell you, cause I knew you were hurting."

"So why are they watching me?" asked Bob.

"Cause they're pissed that a traffic cop showed up everybody else on the fuckin' force," said Don gleefully.

"I didn't show anybody up," said Bob. "I just tried to do my job."

"That's the whole point!" said Simpson. "Dillworth has been shown to be incompetent. The chief looks stupid, and the commissioner's embarrassed as hell, too. They're trying to do damage control, but I'm telling you, buddy, heads are gonna roll."

"Well that's it for me then," sighed Bob. "When the shit starts, it rolls downhill. They'll want me gone, if only so I don't remind them of all the trouble."

"Maybe," said Simpson. "But IA isn't being nearly as nasty with the rest of us as they were in the beginning. A MAJOR fucking serial rapist was identified because of you, my friend. And the detectives aren't pissed at you at all. We've all had to close cases we knew needed more work, but when Dillworth made decisions, there wasn't anything anybody could do. They've even interviewed retired detectives."

"So what do you want from me?" asked Bob.

"Nothing," said Don. "I just thought you ought to know you didn't screw up as much as you thought you did."

"I DID screw up, though," said Bob. "I didn't turn in the lighter."

"OK, so you bent the rules. Look at the payoff. I mean they have to slap your wrist, but they can't fuck you over because they're afraid you'll blow the whistle on the whole thing. They're still trying to keep it quiet."

"You're shitting me!" said Bob. "What about the state guys being involved? And that FBI profiler? They can't keep it quiet. And why would they WANT to? What about all the PR for identifying the guy?"

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Chapter 20 Videos

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 5

The place he directed her to was a tiny hole-in-the-wall that she would have never given a second glance. She realized how hungry she was the instant she walked in, through the door Bob held for her, and the odor of wonderful, delicious things hit her like a sledge hammer. "Vinny!" Bob called out to a man, standing at the grill, wearing a white paper hat. Vinny looked over his shoulder, grinned, and held both hands up in the air, a spatula still in one. "You got me, copper," he said....

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 6

Lacey was ferrying a flash drive containing hundreds of photographs from the dig to the museum. A major discovery had been found. A collapsed cellar had been uncovered and, inside it, there were bones. Human bones. It wasn't clear yet how they had come to be there, but there were no indications of intentional burial. The artifacts found with the bodies suggested that people had taken refuge in the cellar and had died there. The pictures were needed at the museum as soon as possible, so that...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 7

Bob had just left the briefing room, coming on shift. He hadn't even buckled his seat belt when the radio squawked to life, telling him of a multiple injury accident, with an explosion involved. Paramedics and the fire department were already on the scene. Three patrols were being dispatched, and all three were still in the parking lot, after the briefing in the squad room. Three engines roared, and three sirens began to wail, as tires screeched. It was impossible to get close to the...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 8

When Bob went off shift, he returned to the hospital. "How come you're the only cop who ever checks on her?" asked the head nurse. "It's my case," he said bruskly. "How's she doing?" "Better," said the nurse. "She should be awake. All her vitals are normal. The sedative has been stopped. The only reason she's still in ICU is that she won't wake up." "I'll just sit with her for a while," said Bob. He'd stayed in uniform, since that got him almost anything he wanted, with...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 9

Sleep came with difficulty for Bob. His mind roiled with the import of what he knew ... or thought he knew. He tried to convince himself that cars caught on fire all the time. There was only circumstantial evidence that the dead man was her rapist at all. Even the fact that there had been no more rapes with that modus operandi didn't prove anything. Like Lacey, no one had come forward to ask where their son, or brother, or father, or husband was. The crispy critter, still unidentified, was...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 10

He took her to the impound lot, answering her questions when he thought he could do so safely, and dodging them or changing the subject when it got close to something he didn't want to talk about. She was appropriately awed by the damage to her car, and only glanced through the box of her possessions. The attendant brought out a bill for storage, and Bob tore it up. "Hey, you can't do that!" said the attendant. "I just did," said Bob. "The lady was in the hospital while it was...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 11

He took her to Santini's. On the way, he told her a car had sideswiped hers, and that she hadn't been injured. While she was trying to help others involved in the accident, an explosion had occurred. He left it simple. "Explosion," she said, her voice far away. "I remember light ... all over ... I was submerged in light." "What else do you remember?" he asked, his voice guarded. "Just that. When you said explosion, it just came to me." When they walked into Santini's, Donna met...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 12

Bob eventually slept, despite the erection between his legs that demanded attention. It was still demanding attention when he woke the next morning, with a soft, naked woman pressed against his body. It had been a long time since there had been a naked woman of any kind pressed against his body when he woke. That had been a result of long hours, and an unwillingness by Bob to turn over part of his life to any woman. It wasn't that he didn't like women ... it was more that he hadn't found a...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 13

Bob went back to his apartment. The bed was still unmade and the wrinkled linens held the imprint of a bed that had been slept in by a couple. The pillow she'd used was lying against his own, like her head had lain close to his. On impulse, he bent to sniff the sheets where she had lain. They smelled like ... her. He hadn't missed the verbal slip that the doctor had made. She'd been about to say that as much as she would have liked to get naked with him, right there in the office, it...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 14

Bob sat and read magazines, until there were none left to examine. There was no noise coming through the door—it was so quiet he felt like he was the only person on the planet. Eventually, his ears detected the hum of air being pushed here and there by the building's air handler units. He heard a siren dimly, through the walls, but no traffic noises. He checked his watch so frequently that he finally took it off and put it in his pocket. Finally, he dozed off. He woke, when the door opened...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 15

Bob popped two Vivarin when he got into the squad car the next morning. She had kept him up all night, satisfying her own needs and making up for the dry spell Bob had been in. He felt drained, but also more relaxed than he'd been in years. He was no longer distracted, either. Lacey had another appointment with Claire, but he was no longer worried that she'd suddenly realize there was no past between them. That had already been addressed. Now all he had to worry about was the return of...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 16

Lacey went back to see Claire ahead of schedule, and told her everything that had happened. Claire put her under again, and spent an hour exploring the details of the rape that she hadn't gone after earlier. As each horrible part of the assault was revealed, Claire worked more instructions into the dialog, intended to minimize the emotional impact of the memories. Then she brought Lacey out of the hypnotic trance and spent another hour with her, concentrating on the things that Lacey felt...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 17

Bob heard her gasp as he left the bedroom. His head swiveled and he saw her standing there, bent slightly forward, her arm outstretched, hand turned sideways in a fist at the top of a candle. Her face was so pale it looked almost ghostly. Her mouth opened and an agonized groan was torn from her throat as she dropped the lighter and reeled backwards. Her eyes stared at the tall, pale yellow flame that the lighter had created at the tip of the candle, but her mind saw the same hand,...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 18

Back in the apartment, Claire asked questions. They were not "What did you do?" type questions, but rather were "How do you feel about what you did?" type questions. Lacey didn't feel good about any of it. For the psychiatrist, it was like walking a tightrope. Or, perhaps it was like making her patient walk the tightrope. There needed to be remorse for a bad deed, for there to be health in the mind and spirit. But it could be taken too far, and the patient could begin to hate herself,...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 19

She was adamant about keeping her appointment with Claire. He was glad she was going, because he had to go to work. He hoped Claire would talk some sense into her, and he made her promise not to do anything until she'd talked it over with him, no matter what she decided to do. She was waiting for him when he got home from his shift. She was calm, but looked drained. "I have to make this right," she said. "If you're sure about this, then it needs to be done right," he said...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 21

Roger Schwartz grabbed his briefcase and hurried for the entrance/exit of the new suite of offices the prosecutor's staff was lucky to have just moved into. Lucille, his secretary, called out a cheery "Good luck!" as he sailed by her desk. "Don't need luck!" he yelled back, flashing her a grin. In fact, he believed that. He was one of the up and coming lawyers of a generation that believed skill would make "luck" an archaic term. If that seems a bit rash, perhaps it could be said...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 22

The door to the jury room opened and a man wearing glasses came in. He looked at something on a clipboard in his hand. "We're about to begin," he said, with no other introduction. "I need to give you some information about what's expected of you. Please listen closely." He read a list of rules, things they could and could not do while they were sitting in the jury box. His voice droned, making it clear he'd read this list countless times in the past. Fully half the jury tuned him...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 23

The next witness called after lunch was probably a poor choice for that particular spot in the lineup, but it hadn't been planned that way. It was the medical examiner who had done the autopsy on Kinneson's remains. Schwartz apologized to the jury for what they were about to hear, and then had the doctor describe the compound fracture in the victim's leg, which would have made it impossible for him to move around on his own. Then there was the testimony of the condition of the lungs, which...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 24

It was day two of the trial and Roger was ready to produce testimony about the DNA identification of Gilbert Kinneson's remains. He had contacted Senior Technician Fred Simms, the lab supervisor, and hastily explained what he needed. Simms said it would be no problem. Schwartz tried to be as clear about things as possible. "Now I know that there were a lot of tests done on the DNA from the body," said Roger. "That's not germane to the issue in this trial. All I need is an overview of...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 25

Instead of calling the first defense witness, Matthew now exercised his right to cross examine Officer Robert Duncan. Once Bob was on the stand, and had been reminded he was still under oath, Matthew began what he believed in his own mind was some of the most important questioning he'd do. He didn't want to ruin Bob, but uppermost in his mind was Lacey's welfare. "When did you first meet my client?" was his first question. Bob named the date and said, "I needed to interview her as the...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 26

There was a diner, of sorts, on the first floor of the building. It served pre-packaged sandwiches and salads. There were also hot soups, Polish sausages, hot dogs, kraut and the like. Maggie wasn't interested in the fatty foods, so she chose a bowl of mushroom soup, with lemonade, and took it to one of the small tables that were scattered around. She sat in one of two chairs at the table. She was joined by Helen, who asked if she could sit in the other chair. Neither woman seemed to be...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 27

"The defense calls Doctor Claire Montgomery to the stand," said Matthew. Roger stood. "Your honor, I fail to see the relevance of anything this witness could bring to the issue. I must object. Mental state is not at issue here. The accused did not plead based on insanity, either temporary or otherwise." Matthew spoke clearly. "Your honor, I have already indicated that I'm trying to establish motive for my client's actions. This witness's testimony is crucial to that...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 28

As soon as Claire left the courtroom, the judge turned to the jury. "I'm not going to sequester you, because you have not started your deliberations. You may all go home to your families, but you are not to discuss anything you've heard in this case with anyone, under any circumstances. Is that perfectly clear?" Most of the jury nodded. "Court will resume at nine-thirty tomorrow morning," he said, and banged his gavel hard on the block. The gravity of the situation had penetrated...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 29

The jury room hadn't changed much, but the changes that HAD been made were obvious. At each of the twelve chairs around the long table, there was a cheap name tag, made of paper folded into an inverted V. Maggie's was at one end of the table and bore the title "Foreman." It was almost lunch time and some faceless employee had provided a tray of sandwiches, individual bags of various kinds of chips, fruit, and pre-packaged salads from the cafe downstairs. There were also a dozen kinds of...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 30

An hour and a half later Judy again chirped, "Let's vote!" Maggie looked around. People looked tired. A lot had been said, but there didn't seem to be any general consensus. Voting would at least be trying to make progress. She passed out ballots. This time, when she separated the pieces of folded paper, there were four in the guilty pile and eight in the not guilty pile. Everyone looked surprised. "My, my," said Maggie, who had changed her vote, but didn't expect anyone else to do...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 31

"Has the jury reached a verdict?" asked Judge Gunderson. Maggie stood. "We have, your honor." The bailiff took the folded piece of paper from her hand and walked it to the judge. He opened it. He looked at the jury, and then back at the paper. "Was this unanimous?" he asked. "Yes, sir," said Maggie. Gunderson handed the paper back to the bailiff, who returned it to Maggie. "The defendant will stand," intoned the judge. Lacey and McDill stood. Lacey looked like she might fall...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 32

As it turned out, Claire's misgivings were justified. Nothing like this had ever happened before, and she had no clue as to how to proceed. Had she been in her professional setting, she would have controlled the conversation. She couldn't really do that, there in the restaurant. So, she chose to try giving Lacey the redemption she sought. "They forgave you," she said, her voice tight. Bob shot her a look that said very clearly, "What the fuck? You don't mean that." Lacey didn't see...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 33

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Damn Lucky woman

I had to take Uber for a long 3 hour drive, ended up fucked by the young driver with a free ride. [email protected]

First Time

On The Beach

I see you from miles away. I am sitting on the beach watching for all the pretty young girls and admiring their lithe teen bodies as they walk past giggling. You, however are in a league of your own, you strut along the beach, posing and outing all the time, flicking your hair, seeking the attention that you desire. You are bare foot, your toes are perfectly manicured and painted Barbie girl pink and you wear a silver ankle chain. Your long tanned legs are orange and also glimmer in the sun...

Choices of a Young Man

I guess I should start by letting you know who I am. My name is Tom Singer. I was 18 when this all started. I woke up that early spring morning to a wonderful day. It was a sunny Saturday, so I would not be going to college. I had this weird feeling all over. It was both strange and wonderful. There were also a lot of new thoughts running through my head, which all seemed to be centered on my older sister and mother. (You see boys in my family mature at a very slow rate.) The feelings seemed to...

Incest

The must of old linen and wood pulp soothed his heightened senses. It stilled the tingle of anticipation in the pit of his stomach. Frobisher would be waiting for him, the lecherous crook. Thick with a stale odour of pipe tobacco, it fired memories of their battles of wits, a long time ago.The gothic styled vaulted ceilings still carried the soot of centuries. Once a chapel, this vast space had a gravitas and presence that would be all the more impressive if he could see the rest of it. ...

Supernatural

How I became a slut pt 2

hey! so here's the second part of the story....like I said, I was 14 when I was sent to a new foster home here in Las Vegas. My new foster parents were a little uptight. There were other k**s there, April was a black girl my age then there were 2 black brothers, Marvin who was 16 and Will who was 17. I was the only white foster k** there but everyone was pretty nice.I had my own room upstairs there and I started masturbating every night, thinking about Juan (The brother of the last family I was...

A New Taste Part 18 Nicks Thick Dick

Nick had been trying to be a good husband. He tried to stop inviting me to his garage to give him a regular lunchtime oral service. I was fine with it, I was busy servicing my two other beauties and Nick could be quite aggressive sometimes which wasn't always welcome.He sent me a message asking for my skills. He said his wife was away and he was feeling exceptionally horny. I thought about his request for a few minutes but after a few months without sucking him the prospect was too tasty to...

Tonya Harding SlaveGirlChapter 9

Nancy stood before Tonya, resplendent in the shiny leather outfit she wore; dominating... and dangerous! Her dark hair was well- matched for the outfit, and she looked menacing as she scowled at the captive ex-skater. Tonya broke into a cold sweat; she knew that Nancy blamed her for everything that had happened! Now, her rival stood before her, waiting to exact her revenge, while she was bound, helpless! Tears welled up in her eyes as fear of Nancy's retribution grew inside her! "I'm...

Young Girls Skipping School

Young Girls Skipping SchoolIt was late morning as I finished cleaning the house. Largely deserted during the days with Dad at work and my little sister at school, I rarely bothered getting out of my nighty to pick up and vacuum. I enjoyed seeing my breasts bouncing around in the mirrors along the wall as I headed down the hallway to Dad's area of the house smiling to myself thinking what would happen if he would see me looking like this. I was sweating from cleaning but my panties were damp at...

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