Strangers with Benefits (Siren Publishing Classic) (4 page)

Once he inspected his patrol car to make sure everything was operational, he used his radio to let dispatch know he was in service and officially on patrol.

The evenings were usually quiet, mainly shoppers headed back with their purchases and the occasional speeder.

On his lunch break he had a JDLR, or a just don’t look right, situation with two guys loitering in a parking lot. They must have been severely stupid, or not paying attention, but he saw money change hands with a slick pass within a handshake.

He walked over cautiously after he radioed for backup and ended up detaining the pair after a dime bag was found on one of the men. The other was handcuffed and after admitting to it, his pockets were emptied and a half ounce of marijuana was found broken down in baggies.

The report on that one took him ages, as he had to deliver the man to booking after a search was conducted and more drugs were found, including a stash of Percocet. When evidence was found during an arrest, the best way to preserve the chain of custody was to document carefully and deliver it quickly.

By the time he finished with the dope dealer and the fiend, he had his lunch of a simple turkey sandwich and chips. It left him hungry and he knew he should have made another, but he ran out of bread this morning when he packed his food.

Dennis had a list of things he would have to pick up before he went home in the morning, because if he didn’t have two sandwiches tomorrow, no one would want to speak to him.

No sooner than he sat back in the patrol car, dispatch radioed him to head to Queen’s Laundry for a vehicular breaking and entering. Those calls were simple, maybe a bit of damage to the car and smaller, visible items were taken.

Usually, car radios or GPS devices were the reasons the thief was attracted to the vehicle in the first place.

But when he pulled into Queen’s Laundry, he passed a beat up white station wagon and the only other car out front was newer model SUV with chrome, but no body damage. He parked and stepped out of his car, looking for the victim.

A woman came from around the driver side. She was in her early thirties, but the estimation was based more on her demeanor than her appearance. Her face was youthful but her body was a bit on the super thick side, with a huge set of breasts that reminded him of pillows, and her hips matched. She wore a baseball cap and no makeup, but her skin was luminous and shone with the gleam of a newly minted penny.

He was reminded of a black version of Marilyn Monroe before she died. Even her eyes had this soulful glint that sucked a guy in.

Damn.

In all honesty, there were only two things he could distinctly recall from that night. The initial sight of her and the feel of her in his arms when he was finished assisting her as best as he was able.

He thought that he was past the worst of it until she asked him for a hug. “Can I give you a hug?”

Forget about the ears, at that point, his whole body was on fire.

She was a busty thing, but at least he couldn’t feel the softness through his Kevlar. But his arms, oh yeah, he felt just how fleshy she really was.

And it was a firm handful that he would have loved to get his hands on. But she hadn’t batted an eyelash when he called her Mrs. so he was left to assume she was married. A woman that well put together wasn’t bound to be alone for long.

Lucky dude, whoever the fuck he was.

Even though he really, really wanted to feel how soft she really was with nothing between them, he let her go after a stingy moment that did nothing to satisfy him.

Once he had finished his shift, all he wanted to do was hit the sack, but he did manage to rub one off before he fell asleep.

He was off rotation for the next few days, so he ended up having a simple breakfast Sunday morning and made a trip to the grocery store.

He didn’t think about Sidonie too much, if he didn’t count every time he passed a thickly hipped black woman, but he did think about her on Monday, when he passed Queens Laundry on the way to the beach. He planned a day in his kayak at one of the local spots, a barren place with a few homes, but mainly mile after mile of untainted beach for him enjoy alone.

Most of his friends were at work, as he had the odd schedule, so he was used to doing his favorite pursuits alone. By Tuesday, he was preparing to go back to work, and he charged his flashlight, cleaned his weapon, and scrubbed his shoes as they still had a bit of muck in the seams of the rubber.

He picked his uniforms up from the cleaners and washed his personal clothes.

Wednesday, he went back to work for another day in the field.

But when he checked his office mailbox, he found a blue envelope that was sealed with no name on the flap but his own.

It was stuffed full and quite stiff actually, and he wondered what was inside and who sent it to him. The card had to be a hand delivery, as there was no stamp or return address on the outside.

When he carefully pried open the flap, there was a card inside with a silly dog on the front.

He opened it, and the print inside was a flowing, feminine script with lots of loops.

Officer McTavish,

I just wanted to say thank you for all of your wonderful assistance. I never imagined meeting an officer of the law that was as kind and supportive as you were on Saturday night. You went above and beyond the call of duty to assist a stranger with an issue that you took ownership of, even though it was my fault to begin with, but you never made me feel foolish, even if I deserved to.

I couldn’t stop thinking about how the world would be a better place if everyone was as considerate as you were. I just needed to make sure that you didn’t go without because of your generosity, so here is a prepaid card with your twenty dollars on it.

And a little extra, so you can have your next lunch on me.

If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.

With much thanks,

Sidonie Clark

P.S. I did replace my phone, BTW.

It was from
her
.

As promised, there were two cards enclosed. One was a silver Visa card and the other was for a popular chicken spot that boasted a delicious sandwich with pickles that he indulged in some days, as he was fairly strict with his diet four days out of the week so he could remain as healthy as possible.

It shocked him to say the least.

He had received thank you letters from people he’d helped before. But this was the first time anyone had ever given him something inside of the card. He couldn’t help the smile that rode his lips for the rest of the morning, even though the others laughed at him during the briefing and roll call for their shift.

“Why are you so happy, McTavish?”

“You finally get some poor woman to give you some, McTavish?”

He didn’t say anything. It was part and parcel of the territory of being an officer. Cops liked to ride each other. It was the same way brothers treated one another, and, if nothing else, being an officer was a fraternity of sorts, and all of its members were his brothers.

And it worked exactly the same as being in a family would. They gave each other a hard time and cracked jokes at one another’s expense. He wasn’t irritated, but he wasn’t going to give them any details, either.

He went about the rest of his day up until lunch time, when he sat at the chicken restaurant and ate his sandwich, courtesy of Mrs. Clark. She was more considerate than he imagined, as he never expected that the card would be from her.

He did a lot of leg work for her, but he tried to treat every call to service the same way and give the same effort no matter what it was for.

While he was in mid bite, his radio squawked and he knew he wasn’t going to get the chance to finish his sandwich. Just a minute later he found himself working as the first responder to a house fire that apparently was started by two unattended children.

The food wouldn’t have been as good cold later, but he tossed the waffle fries and half sandwich in a bag and rolled out immediately. That happened more often than not during his regular work week, so much that it no longer fazed him after all these years.

The house burned halfway to the ground, but he did get both children out of the home and had to contact Child Services, as neither of them were of legal age to be unattended. He felt for the mother as he watched her scream when she arrived on the scene and her children were already in the ambulance to be treated for smoke inhalation.

The EMTs checked him out, but he was fine, albeit a bit sooty and grimy from the smoke and ash.

The next few days were busy as it was a full moon and he had three domestics in a row. Those were his least favorite calls, as there was no telling what he would be walking into. Most calls to service were fairly straightforward. But domestics could easily go from one extreme to the next.

He had met with drunk couples that were fighting like cats and dogs, but by the time he arrived, they were as calm as could be. He could meet with another couple and get a gun pulled on him for showing up.

Not to mention, the victim rarely wanted to press charges, and if the vic did actually step foot in front of the magistrate, half the time he went into court and they didn’t show at all.

It was a waste of time for people to press charges and not show, not to mention a waste of taxpayer funds. But he didn’t make laws, he just assisted with the enforcement of them.

When his next day off came around, he found that he was ready to have a night out and luckily, it was a night that his buddies would be around to bumble about town with him.

Usually, the guys tended to play a few hands of poker and maybe watch a game depending on the night. But this weekend, he needed to find a lady with a soft set of hands and big breasts to have a bit of fun with for the night.

He didn’t do relationships. Not that he didn’t want one, but a cop’s life was a tough one. Many women thought they liked the idea of a man in uniform, but when the reality of what it meant to be a in a relationship with a cop came to light, they always bolted.

He liked the chase, but there was no way he could be with a woman that would harp on him about his job. That was where he and his ex-girlfriend had to call it quits.

She had goals in life and he was happy to be a beat cop that handled speeding tickets and chase perps from one parking lot into the next. He expected to get shot at, expected to be punched, kicked, beaten, and all around abused.

That didn’t bother him, but his ex couldn’t handle it. She broke up with him when he showed up to their date with a shiner that spanned half of his face.

She said that she couldn’t deal with being afraid for him all of the time. Dennis could understand that feeling, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. So he let her go her way and he went his. Since he wasn’t much of a partier, he didn’t have too many opportunities to meet women, but he kept so busy that the lack of a relationship didn’t bother him too much.

The stress of his job wasn’t the only factor that contributed to the breakup, but just an additional straw that broke the back of the camel their relationship was akin to. In the eighteen months since Samantha had packed her belongings and left their three year relationship, he just hadn’t been able to muster up interest in looking for a replacement model.

But tonight he planned on having a good time and getting hella drunk before he crashed in his own bed, maybe even with some female company.

At eight, he drove to his cousin Theo’s place. Theo didn’t live far, but since they were headed to the other side of town, it would be easier to carpool. Theo’s apartment was centrally located, about halfway between his place and downtown.

After Dennis drove the handful of miles to their destination, spaces were scarce and he ended up parking off Third and Market Street. The space was a free street parking spot, but would leave the two of them to walk about a half mile before they reached the first stop of the night.

The rest of their small band was already at a local watering hole, known as The Cellar.

The name matched the location, as the only way to access the bar at street level was a set of descending stairs with a set of high shrubs on both sides. The shrubs were affixed with white Christmas lights to help people find the entrance, although sometimes a bouncer would be in front of the stairs to check IDs before anyone could enter the space properly.

Usually, most women at The Cellar were taken as the place was mellow, made for adults who wanted to relax instead of get amped with a bunch of teenagers and college kids. There was music, but it was usually kept at a more audible volume rather than the bleeding ear drum decibels associated with the clubbing experience.

Normally, that atmosphere translated well for couples rather than a group of singles looking to mingle, but it would be a good place to get his bearings and enjoy a round or two of pool while he was at it.

Once they wandered inside, he saw Jack and Patrick already at a table with a stack of quarters perched on one edge of the felted wood.

“Hey, Den!” Patrick handed him a beer.

“Thanks.” They clinked the necks of the bottles and took a swig. “I want the winner.”