Stan Walker

[Stan Walker]

EDIT

[Stan Walker]

((This is an ongoing story that i have been writing hopefully someday i will finish it i have been trying to write a few pages a day ...once again good or bad let me know hat ya think..and im sure there are ytpos and spelling its just a rough draft PLEASE NOTE EXPLICIT MATERIAL 18+))






Drop the gun Sanders!!!" my voice was steady, yet it held a tint of anxiety, even after doing this kind of stuff for 7 years in situations like this your adrenaline always kicks in. I had my weapon, standard police issue smith and Wesson .40 trained on Sanders, the uniforms with me all had there weapons drawn on Sanders as well, Sanders however had his trained on a 5 year old girl. Not good. You could see the sweat pouring down his face, and that look in his eyes that said he wasn't quite there, the girl had tears streaming down her face, crying to her daddy not to hurt her. "Just put the gun down, and we can talk about this, nobody else needs to get hurt."
"I swear to Christ I will ****ing kill her do you understand me?"
"I want to help you Joe but if you don't help me I cant help you, now come on and help me out let the girl go"
I actually thought for a split second he was going to let her go, leave it to me to try and see the best in people, the say this job can make you jaded, it can, but you still try to see the best in people regardless of how many ****bags you put away. Sanders, grabbed the little blond girl by the hair and twisted, she screamed and he rammed the gun against her temple, a slight line of crimson trickled down her face mixing with the tears.
"If you kill her then you've got nothing, do you understand what I'm saying?" I said
"I've got nothing now they want me dead"
"They" referred to a small time group of drug runners in St.Louis, Sanders had been working for them till his addiction of their product started to cost them more money than he was worth. Dammit where the hell was Mobile Reserve? I needed the Calvary here in a big way, I'm not a negotiator, but was trained a little in hostage situations so, while they were rounded up guess who gets to talk to the bad guy? Yep that's right yours truly.
"Let the girl go we can get you protection, they wont even know where you are"
Sanders seemed to ponder it for a second, he started to let his daughter go then his face went blank again, god I hated junkies. He still had his fingers loosely wrapped in the girl's hair but she wasn't pulled in close to him anymore and the gun was starting to slump downward, that's when I did something stupid.
Actually 2 things happened at once, I moved with an inside to outside crescent kick aimed at Sanders gun hand, and one of the uniforms went for the girl, problem was I missed my mark, Sanders jerked his gun up as the kick went right below his wrist. The uniform had the girl and was pulling her away not an easy task with Sanders fingers still wrapped in her hair, Sanders began to bring the gun back across his chest towards his daughters head. I shot him twice in the chest.

Remarkably he didn't die. He was lying on the hard wood floor of his apartment laughing. Welcome to the wonderful world of PCP, where you don't feel pain, you don't feel much of anything. The uniformed officer, found out his name was Sims later was escorting the girl out of the room, I walked past Sanders to where his gun fell about 2 feet from him and slid it with my foot about another 5 feet from him, I don't trust bad guys, injured or not. Another one of the boys in blue was asking for an ambulance to be dispatched. Paramedics arrived and loaded Sanders onto a stretcher, even though he was shot he was fighting with them, it took me and 3 other officers to hold him down to get the restraints on him. I looked around the room, what a mess, I'm so glad I was not the first officer on the scene, when your the first officer on the scene you get to write the report, oh sure I will have to write a supplemental report but that's nothing compared to what the poor soul who was first on the scene has to write, I also had a feeling when my Sgt. read that report I was going to be in trouble. I walked outside into the fresh autumn air, I do love St.Louis in the fall, our winters you freeze to death and our summers are hot and sticky, not to mention all that humidity, its like a rain forest here, but fall yeah that was my weather. It truly didn't make sense to enjoy the fresh air so much though, I reached into the pocket of my leather jacket and grabbed my pack of smokes, been trying to quit for years now just haven't gotten the hang of it though, I fumbled a Marlboro light out and stuck it between my lips, then reached into my jeans for my Zippo, flicked it and watched the amber flame as I lit up, I took a deep drag as flicked the Zippo close and stuck it back in my pocket. We saved the girl, caught the bad guy, and had a smoke I didn't think the night could get much better.
I strolled down the sidewalk to my truck, just bought it its a 2002 black F150 4x4 with all the bells and whistles, very sharp, I've had more fun with it in the past month then I did the entire time I was driving my car, some people are just truck people I guess. I had just climbed in and fired it up when my cell phone rang.
"Walker" I answered
the voice on the other end of the phone came back "Detective Stan Walker?"
"Yeah that's me can I help you?"
"This is Doctor Everingham, I have the results from your yearly department physical"
"great, what's the matter? You don't sound to thrilled?"
"Well detective I think you should come in so we can discuss them"
"that doesn't sound good, what's broken on me doc?" I grinned at my attempt of humor.
He paused "I think you should come down here so I can speak to you in person" Nope he definitely didn't get it or just didn't think it was that funny.
"Ok, I'll swing by how bout in an hour?"
"Well detective were technically closed even right now, but I thought it was important to speak to you about this."
"Fine I'm on my way be there in 10 minutes" and I hung up the phone. The department was kind enough to outfit my truck with a police radio, even put a light and siren in it, sounds nice, but they have ulterior motives, its so I can be at their beck and call whenever they want me, sigh the price of fame. I picked up the radio mic, and waited till the channel was clear, nothing ticks off cops like other cops walking all over their transmission.
" six Boston 32"
"six Boston 32 go ahead"
"six Boston 32 is going to be 10-7, for personal relief"
"copy six Boston 32, 10-7 at 1846 hours."
I placed the mic back in its holder and started to put the truck in drive, stopped myself and reached into my pocket for another cig, this is not going to be good news I thought as I lit up again.

I got to doctor Everingham's office in 15 minutes leave it me to be late, wife used to tell me I was going to be late for my own funeral. Doctor Everingham's office was in Barnes/Jewish Health Center, his office was decorated with cool blue colors, the carpeting was a royal blue, the walls were a light powder blue, there were navy blue chairs he had paintings of flowers hanging up, I'm guessing the idea is to keep you calm while you wait, a lot of people dread going to the doctor, I'm not one of them at least I wasn't till today. There was no receptionist, just doctor Everingham sitting in a chair, he stood up and extended his hand. Doctor Everingham was short about 5'3 I guess, balding with thick bifocals, somewhere in his 50's and you could tell he wasn't missing any meals. I grasped his hand and shook it back.
"Glad you could come at such short notice Detective."
"Please just call me Stan, and its no problem doc what's going on?"
"If you would please step into my office I have your file in there."
I followed him down a corridor into his office, he must have been a real avid fisherman, and there were pictures of fish on the walls and a couple of his trophies stuffed on the wall as well. He sat down behind a big wooden desk and offered me a seat on the other side. I sat down and watched as he started to rifle through a manila folder, think that's when it hit me, what the hell could be wrong with me? I'm in great shape I thought. I run 2 miles every other day, lift weights every other day, hell I'm benching 310lbs, and I have been doing martial arts since I was 10 years old, I'm only 28 what could be wrong with me?
"Detec...Stan? Are you ok?"
"Sorry Doc was just thinking, so what's wrong with me?"
"Well I went over your preliminary physical, and everything checks out, you're in great physical shape."
"Then what's the problem?"
"Well the problem is with the results of your blood work."
I had a wave of fear wash over me, blood work? Had I contracted HIV or something worse? It was no secret that I have been rather promiscuous since my wife left me 2 years ago, she couldn't handle the job, the hours, the people that I associated with while working, she made it an ultimatum lose the job or lose her. I have yet to speak to her in 2 years. My award winning personality at its best. But I always used protection, when I was "getting my freak on" as my brother likes to put it, always I couldn't imagine.
"Stan?"
He most have known I was thinking about something again, because of the dumbfounded look I gave him.
"Yes Doctor?"
"Like I was saying bout your blood work."
I couldn't take the waiting I had to know I just blurted it out.
"Do I have HIV?"
Doctor stared at me a sec and let out a long breath.
"No, no you don't no STD's of any kind."
I let out a sigh of relief.
"Then what is it doc?"
"Well Stan your results came back that you does have a very rare blood disorder, its called Polycythemia Vera."
"Poly what?"
"Polycythemia Vera, your bone marrow produces an extreme amount of red blood cells, that over production can lead to thickening of the blood, which can impair the function of the heart or the brain."
"Ok, how do we get rid of it?" I asked trying to keep a slight smile
"there is no cure for it, the best we can do is try to keep it under control with chemotherapy treatments."
"Chemo?" my heart was pounding in my chest, so unfair I thought, I go through all this to keep myself healthy then wind up with this? The man upstairs must have a sense of humor.
"When do we start these treatments?"
"I will have my receptionist call you to make an appointment, and I am sorry detective."
I walked out of his office, and down to the parking garage, still partially in shock, I just couldn't grasp the concept, me? I had a blood disease? I was actually going to have to go through chemotherapy? And the more I thought about it the more pissed off I got, I climbed into the truck and slammed the door, well one things for sure I thought, if I have this terminal disease, **** it why quit smoking. With that I placed another Marlboro between my lips and fired it up.
I keyed up the mic and called myself back into service. Then started rifling through some of my cd's, I'm normally a country music fan, but I needed something darker. I was pissed. I settled for Kid Rock, pushed play on the control panel and let the heavy drum beat and guitar fuel my rage. I drove west down I-70, and got off the highway at the Busch Stadium exit. My cell phone rang.
"Walker." I said as I turned down the radio, Kid Rock was screaming about how he's an American badasss.
"Stan, I have a job for you."
I knew without even another word that it was my Sergeant. Sgt. Gary Nichols, Nichols was a retired Army sergeant who had gotten into police work after his son was killed while he was oversees fighting for our country, and while he was doing that his son was shot for 32 dollars, and an 86 cavalier. I like Sgt. Nichols, he was fair and even fun to be around at times but more than anything he was strict and professional, very professional, his voice was so crisp it was as if every word was cut with a knife as he spoke.
"What's that Sarge?"
"Just wanted to let you know you don't have the day off tomorrow anymore, we need you to go to Barnes Hospital and interrogate Sanders."
"You have got to be kidding me Sarge, I haven't had a day off in over a week, can't someone else do it? What about Mc Intosh?"
Mc Intosh was another detective in the unit, he was very thorough and very by the book, and I thought I was a better detective then him but hey I'm biased.
"Mc Intosh is going to be leading the investigation and he's going to be at the crime scene today and tomorrow, until we have everything sketched, photographed, bagged and tagged, he's not leaving, that leaves you."
I let out a deep breath; the news just gets better all the time.
"You are to report to room 313 and interrogate sanders at 1600 hours, I expect a report on my desk no later then 2100 hours."
"Yes sir."
"And Stan..."
"Yes Sarge?"
"Good work today."
"Thanks." The line went dead
I flipped the phone closed, and was about to turn the radio back up, when the phone went off again, dear lord wasn't I Mr. popular today.
"Walker."
"What's up slapnuts?" I grinned immediately, I recognized the voice, it was Josh, we went to the academy together, guy was a blast to party with and once he started you couldn't stop laughing.
"**** you douche bag, what the **** do you want?"
"Don't you remember? Guy's night out? Were hitting the east side...get our drink on"
"Oh yeah that's right, forgot, I'm not off till 11 though."
"Don't worry about it well still be there drinking, I got the day off tomorrow."
I sighed, sure rub it in
"I don't, but I'm not due in till 3pm, let me get cleaned up after work and I'll head down there."
"Right on, I'll be there probably drunk with the rest of the guys."
"See you then."
"All right...later.
I hung up the phone yet again, after the news I had gotten today I think beer and women was going to do me a whole lot more good than chemo was.


It was about quarter till 8 now just 2 more hours till party time, normally it would have been three but the department likes their officers to be in good shape, so twice a week we get to work out in the gym. Wouldn't do for the bad guys to be stronger than us would it? I basically just cruised the area, one of the great things about being a detective is that the uniforms get all the calls, I just work cases, technically I should have been writing that supplemental report, but I really didn't feel like it, I could always start it tomorrow. I drove down by the riverfront to take a peek at how the bar scene was going tonight. Weekends in St. Louis on the landing are legendary, non stop party, and when you party you get drunk people, and some, thankful not all drunk people like to cause trouble, As I was bouncing along the cobblestone streets, I noticed a red sedan out of the corner of my eye, it caught my attention because, it was in a poorly lighted, near vacant lot. Nearly all the party people like to park as close as possible to the bars, that feat in itself can kill an hour maybe even a little more when you decide to venture out on the landing. Not to mention the rhythmic bouncing the sedan was doing, probably just some college kids just a little too excited, a little too early in the evening, I cull pull up flash the badge then just give them a warning, hey it could kill at least a half an hour and put me that much closer to party time. Why not? I pulled into the lot behind the sedan, I pulled a flashlight out from under the front seat and began to approach the vehicle, as I got a little closer it was immediately apparent that it was not a pair of frisky college kids, someone was being raped.

The female was laying on her back, her black hair all tousled, her skirt was yanked up all the way to her beltline, she had both hands on her attacker pushing with all her might to free herself, and unfortunately not succeeding, her lipstick was smudged across her face and her mascara was cascading in waterfalls down her cheeks. Her attacker AKA, Joe ****bag was on top of her his khakis were pulled down over his ass, he had her panties pulled to the side with his left hand and was balancing himself on his right hand while he forced himself unwillingly into her. I ran up to the passenger side door drew my gun and aimed it at the window, she caught glimpse of me from the position she was in, he didn't. I rapped on the window hard with the front end of the barrel I thought for a moment that I was going to break the window and I didn't care. He looked up saw me, more over saw the gun aimed at him and stopped dead in his tracks looking at me like a deer caught in headlights. She kept pushing him off and he got the idea this time. I yelled into the car Police...open up the driver's side door and step out slowly. He backed towards the door and I stepped around the car to his side. As he opened the door I ripped him out, my right hand has a fistful of his hair, left hand still held the Smith trained on his head. He was working at trying to get his pants on,
"Hands up now!"
He lifted his hands and his pants just fell to his ankles, he was still excited about what had happened, that made me sick. Moreover it made me furious. I sent my left knee sailing into his crotch, he made a soft mewling sound and doubled over kissing the concrete, I holstered my weapon and grabbed him by his hair again, he didn't want to get up at first, however a handful of someone else's hair really gets their attention, you can basically lead them wherever you like. He got to his feet still doubled over though.
"Put your hands behind you back!' he did so and I reached for my cuffs on the back of my belt, I grinded both handcuffs into each of his wrists hard, he yelped. The girl in the back was scrunched into the fetal position, crying.

I looked at her and felt another pang of rage, I grabbed him by the shoulders and drove me knee as high as I could into his groin again. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he hit the ground, without a word out of him. I let him lay there, and approached the passenger side again. I tapped the window with my badge.
"Miss?" no answer
"Miss? Its ok now your safe", and held my badge to the window. She looked up at me, fear pouring out of her eyes, eyes flicking from my face to the badge my face to the badge.
"C'mon lets get you out of here, can you please unlock the door so I can help you?"
She didn't react at first, the last thing most female's rape victims want to see after a rape is another man, let alone trust him to help. I kept speaking to her in a calm manor until her bruised arm teetered up to the door lock. I cautiously opened the door and held out my hand, she took it and I slowly helped her to her feet she was very shaky could barely hold herself up. She smoothed her skirt back down, but before she had gotten it all the way down I had caught a glimpse of dried blood stained on her inner thigh. I slowly walked her to my truck opened the door and let her in, she closed the door and immediately locked it, I couldn't blame her. I walked around to the other side of the truck and slowly got in didn't want to frighten her anymore after the ordeal she had been though. I scooped up the mic and called for an ambulance, and for a female unit to respond on the scene. She was lying against the seat on her side, and had started crying again, wailing out big long sobs, and whatever rage I thought I had put out flared to life again. I tried to speak with her, get some information about her, about the man that had hurt her. Nothing




CONTINUED>>>>

[Stan Walker]

I spoke very calmly to her "I'm going to go arrest the man that hurt you stay here I will be right back."
She didn't respond at all just stared at me with a tear stained face. I got out of the truck and walked back over to Joe ****bag, I call him that because he wasn't even worth me getting his name. He was just starting to come to; I grabbed him again by the hair yanking him to his feet.
He gurgled something I didn't understand, who cares. I turned him around and loosened the handcuffs to a normal tension blood started flowing back into his hands and you could see the indentation where they had been applied so tightly. **** I guess I would really have to get creative when writing this report.... Sir the subject was resisting arrest, as I applied the handcuffs, in the heat of the moment I fastened them too tight.... yeah something like that would work. I wanted to make sure he looked presentable when the uniformed officers got there. I couldn't very well put him in my vehicle so I settled for his, I walked him by his arm over to the passenger side, who says I'm not kind. Opened the door then bounced his head off the roof of his car. It made a big Thwoomp sound, and left a pretty sizeable dent. I smiled as I spoke to him he was writhing in agony.
"Oh I'm so sorry sir please watch your head." then placed him in the back seat of his vehicle and belted him in, doing so I whispered in his ear "If I ever catch you doing something like this again...I will kill you, make no mistake." I went back around to the driver's side front and removed the keys then locked all the doors in the vehicle. I had just enough time to do that when I heard the sirens and saw the first flashes from the cherries on the ambulance. I flipped my own light on and waited.

EMS arrived on the scene first, they normally always do, and I knew most of them from working different cases with different victims, and these 2 I had never seen before. I flashed them my badge, told them who I was, and what had happened. One of the paramedics was a black female named Shirley. She also was the only person who could coax the girl, who I later found out was Shannon Louise Barteau, out of my vehicle. They loaded her in the ambulance and rushed her to Barnes hospital. 3 patrol cars with uniforms showed up as well as Sgt. Nichols. It looked like the landing was going to be closing early...party goers don't like to see police when they are going in or coming out of a nightclub. Sgt. Nichols very crisply marched over to the back of the truck, where I was fishing a Marlboro out of my shirt pocket.
"Can you not get into trouble for 5 minutes Walker?" He grimaced at me.
I just kind of stared at him while I fumble out my lighter, and flicked on the orange/blue flame, I put it near my mouth and took in a big drag...I exhaled the gray smoke through my mouth and nose.
"Sir. I do what I can." I grinned back.
"So what happened?"
I recounted the story for him, telling him every detail, except for my extra curricular fun with Joe ****bag.
"Well it looks like we got him...you saw the crime in the process of being committed, so we have our PC looks like all we have to do now is take pictures of the scene. We will get a female officer from sex crimes to interview our victim, and get physical evidence via rape kit, and the crime lab boys to take specimens from the vehicle."
"What about interviewing the aggressor?" I asked, while taking in another drag.
Sgt.Nichols adjusted his wire rim glasses ad looked down at me, I thought I was pretty tall at 6 foot 1 but Nichols makes me feel short he's 6'5.
"Forget it Walker you're not interviewing him."
"Why not?"
"No way, we have detectives for that."
"I am a detective."
"Your narcotics, you don't interview."
"I'm interviewing a subject tomorrow...." he cut me off
"Only because that crime was narcotic related, don't try to twist words with me Walker."
Funny thing is, he was the one twisting the words, when the PD wants you for something, it doesn't matter what...you do it, but try to switch the roles around and. well you see what happens.
"Where is the subject now?" he asked
"Locked in his car, I couldn't put him in my vehicle with the girl."
Nichols started strolling his way over to the car, I crushed out my smoke and followed, by the time I caught up with the Sgt. he was staring at the roof of the Cavalier, he looked down at it, peered into the vehicle then to me a couple of times.
"What?" I asked shocked
"He was resisting arrest sir." I added
Nichols raised a hand up to me and shook his head
"Forget it I don't want to know, don't tell me anything."
He had a pretty good idea what had happened Mr. ****bag I'm sure. But in situations like this one, especially with a rape, It's a don't ask don't tell kind of thing, hell even the doctors and EMS don't want to know, they find out he was caught raping someone, they know the bad guy deserved whatever he got.
Nichols grabbed a uniformed officer, new guy, short with jet-black hair. Emerson his nameplate read.
"Have EMS take this guy to the hospital, and get him a fit for confinement, after he gets it take him down to booking."
Emerson snapped to attention
"Yes, sir."
I grinned. Rookies are always more than willing to do whatever you asked. They learn later on down the road not to be so eager. Sgt.Nichols spun back and looked at me.
"Looks like you got yourself another report to write Stan."
That wiped the grin off my face real quick. Two count them two reports to write, and not little reports either, big long, drawn out reports, tomorrow was definitely going to suck. EMS rolled my new friend past me and into the ambulance, I stared at him, he wouldn't make eye contact.
"You've had a busy night Detective, a shooting, and a rape, that's a lot in one night. For anyone." he paused, took off his glasses wiped his eyes and put them back on.
"In fact it is department policy for you to take a few days off after a shooting, and go to counseling."
"With all due respect sir, the days off sound great but, I would rather write reports all day then go to counseling."
"Unfortunately that's policy, take tomorrow off, and make an appointment with one of the councilors we have a list at the station. I'll find somebody to interview Sanders, if need be I will do it myself. When you get back though I want you to start writing those reports, no street work, unless absolutely necessary until they are turned in."
My night was starting to look up. Day off tomorrow...that's what I wanted in the first place...he said policy was a couple days off but I wasn't going to split hairs with him, I don't want to go see a shrink at all, but I guess you have to take the good with the bad. Nichols turned and headed towards his cruiser.
"I will see you on Sunday Stan."
"Good night Sgt."
I headed back toward my truck, I had a lot of the guys on the scene clap my back, and shake my hand, telling me good job. It felt good. Tally so far ladies and gentlemen good guys 2 bad guys 0.
I climbed in put the key in and turned the ignition, the truck roared to life, I shifted into drive and headed for the PD, my shift was finally over, didn't look like there was going to be time to work out unless I wanted to stay longer...nah there's always tomorrow for that besides I got a pretty good work out already. All I needed now was a shower and a change of clothes and I could put this day behind me, then it was happy drunk fun time, and believe me I was sooo ready.


TO BE CONTINUED...

[Stan Walker]

I always keep a spare set of clothes at the PD, you never know how much time your going to be spending there, or how many times your going to have to leave straight from work to meet somebody. Granted they weren't my dressiest clothes but hey, I'm going to a bar, not a wedding. I showered and got dressed, blue jeans, black t-shirt, black boots, I completed the outfit with my black leather jacket the jacket serves two purposes, its stylish yet it conceals the gun. Hair well that didn't take too long, it's a sandy blond, and I have it cut military style. A high and tight they call it, makes me look professional, and some have even said mean. Works for me. I splashed on a little aftershave, loaded the smith into the pancake holster on my belt and took one last look in the mirror, my blue eyes just stared back at me, I don't know why I just always have to give myself a last once-over before I leave to go anywhere. Some consider it vanity; I just like to make sure I look good. I stuffed my old clothes and toiletries back into my locker and snapped the padlock closed. I walked out and hopped back in the truck and fired it up, The radio was playing "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns and Roses...Perfect party music, I was getting in my zone, popped a fresh smoke in my mouth, and jumped on 70 eastbound, the east side was only about 15 minutes away if that from the PD.just across the river, I got off at the Sauget exit and made a right, PT's was just down the road, I could see the huge pink neon sign crying out like a becon, I swerved into the parking lot, jumped out and locked up the truck. The bouncer greeted me at the door, he was a big boy. Six 3 and about 300lbs and from the looks all muscle.
"Eight dollars sir."
I pulled my jacket to the side a bit and flashed my tin. He looked at my badge and waved me forward.
"Go on in sir, and have a good evening."
I probably should have paid, but hey it's a perk of the job. It's also amazing how quickly someone's attitude can change once they know you're a cop.
The inside of PT's is lavish, there are 6 stages all equipped with poles and beautiful women dancing on them, there are 3 fully stocked bars with equally as attractive women bartending them, clad in tuxedo shirts, ties and short skirts. Man did I love this place. There are multiple tables surrounded by large burgundy, comfortable chairs throughout the club, the lighting is not really bright, its low I guess so as to not disturb the fantasy, except on the stages where multicolored lights flash in different patterns spotlighting the exotic dancers. They also recently changed things around and call it a sports cabaret. There are televisions throughout the place, the largest one being on one of the walls about the size of a movie screen, all of them playing sports. The walls are decorated with an array of sports memorabilia and alcohol endorsed signs. The music is always thundering loud and there is constantly a wave of smoke billowing in the place, any non-smoker that goes in there is bound to leave with cancer. Like I said I loved this place. I wandered up to the bar and ordered a beer, actually it was like the mecca of beers, they call it a macho mug, you basically get the equivalent of four bottles of beer, draft in one huge mug, and they always keep the mugs iced up. They cost 9 bucks, it's a rip off, but just about every strip club is when it comes to beer prices, it's the best deal they got though. I paid the bartender and tipped her 2 dollars, picked up my beer and started searching for my friends. They weren't hard to find, the whole lot of them were sitting around one of the stages that was featuring a busty blond in a red sequin gown who was teasing the mass of people around the stage, by slowly sliding her dress down over her shoulders to reveal her massive breasts. They were all whooping and hollering. Mitchell had a dollar bill on his nose and had leaned over on the stage backwards waiting for the blond to pick it up, and I'm sure not with her hands. Yep they were all lit. I found a seat in between Mitchell's currently vacant seat, and another good friend of mine Ryan. The blond looked down at me, and let the gown fall down to her waist, then winked at me while groping her chest and pinching her nipples. Yeah that's right who's your daddy baby, I thought to myself. Ryan brought me back to reality.
"Well look who finally decided to ****ing show up. Whats up?" and he raised his mug and clinked mine. I picked up my beer and took a large swallow of it, it was icy cold and I could feel it chilling me from my throat all the way down to my stomach. Ahhh the first drink is always the best. Mitchell didn't even sit up from the stage he was still laying there, he just waved from where he was and said "Hey Stan." The blond had stripped down to nothing and was leaning her breasts down just enough to tickle his face with them, she then mashed them down and smothered his face, when she finished, the only thing on Mitchell's face was a smile, the dollar bill was gone. The blond looked back at me and smiled, she wanted me to be her next customer, I wasn't ready for that...not yet anyway, I usually had to have 3 or 4 in me first. I got up from the stage, and walked to a nearby table to finish my beer, and lit another cig, Ryan and Josh stayed at the stage, but one of my other friends, Jeff got up and joined me at the table. Jeff was a copper in Lake saint Louis, before that he was a trucker, he was about my height with brown hair, eyes and a mustache, we give him a lot of **** about being a trucker, we tell him he can go from 0 to redneck in 2.6 beers. From the looks of him tonight he was on redneck overtime, I think he had a few more than 2.6 tonight. Jeff was also always the talkative one. He always wanted to know how you were, and if everything was going ok, and why didn't we hang out more, and he always always always had a story for you.
"So, how ya been bud? He asked while polishing off his macho mug.
"I've been alright." I lied, I didn't want anyone knowing about this blood disease thing once your friends find out they treat you different I didn't want their pity.
"How about yourself?"

[Stan Walker]

"Good, good, be doing better if I had another beer." I crushed out my cigarette and looked at my glass, beer must have been going down smoother than I thought, my glass was near empty as well.

"Tell ya what. This round is on me, want to do a shot too?" Jeff grinned. He and I have had multiple shot contests in the past, problem was we were both so drunk we could never figure out who won the next day.
"Yeah get me a Cuervo, no training wheels."
"You got it." I grinned back, got up and started walking back toward the bar, I could have waited for a waitress, but I didn't feel like waiting, and it seems its some kind of unwritten rule that you tip them 5 bucks. Five bucks? Just to pour a beer? I think not. I took the scenic route to the bar, so that I could see all the pretty girls doing near obscene things on the stages. Oh yeah! Who's your daddy baby. I finally made my way to the bar, and ordered 2 more macho mugs and 2 shots of tequila, no training wheels. I paid the bartender, and attempted to carry them back to my table, not an easy task, maybe I should have asked a waitress. This time I took a more direct route back to the table. Didn't want to juggle these things anymore than I had to. Jeff didn't wait for me, he was back at the stage with the rest of the guys, they had switched girls, and he had a brunette with wavy hair giving him a lap dance. I'm guessing she was attractive all I could see was her back and the back of her head. I wasn't taking his beer to him, I was being a nice guy but I am not going to be his personal waitress, when he's thirsty enough hell come and get it. I actually probably would have taken it to him but the stage was full and there were no seats left. I picked up my beer and took a gulp. Then reached in my pocket for a cigarette, I'm horrible at chain smoking when I drink, its like one right after the other. I had just snapped the Zippo closed and took a long drag when I caught a whiff of ...Jasmine?...Cloves? I turned my head to try to figure out where it was coming from. The source was a shock.

The scent was coming from quite possibly the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. She was a little thing maybe 5'7, petite about 135 lbs, she barely looked old enough to be in this place. She was clad entirely in black leather. Black leather ankle boots, skin and I mean skintight black leather pants, and a black leather biker type jacket that was unzipped just far enough to see the top swell of her breasts. Her hair was a reddish blond, not strawberry blond, I cant completely explain it, but it was like if someone took a spindle and spun rubies and gold together her hair would be the color you got, It flowed with long thick curls like a mane of fire down to her waist. I instantly had the urge to run my fingers through that mass of curls and bury my face in it, and knew that if I did I would be bathed in the scent of Jasmine and Cloves. Her eyes were as gray as the clouds before a storm, yet they held a slight shimmer like there were flakes of silver, raining from the clouds, Thick long eyelashes framed those eyes and her faint eye shadow matched that silver, that made the flakes twinkle. She had a petite little nose, and full, pouty crimson lips. The kind of lips that promised pleasure when you were alone with her.

She was seated roughtly 3 tables away from me, I caught my self staring and turned away, exhaleing a breathn I wasn't aware that I was holding. I let my eyes travel slowly to her table again, not looking at her mind you just in her direction..peripheal vision, learned it in martial arts

[Stan Walker]

and at the academy it's a wonderful way of looking at someone without actually looking at them. She was seated with 3 men, all of whom were wearing black slacks, black dress shirts and black trenchcoats. I continues to scan her general area letting my sight rest upon her again...she was staring right at me then winked, something in my chest tightend up, what the hell was wrong with me? Ive seen plenty of beautiful women, hell this place was full of beautiful women, what the hell? I had also noticed that the 3 goons were looking my way, and they didn't look nearly as happy to see me. That was my cue, now I should have looked the other way drank my beer played with the strippers and ignored this woman and her associates...that's what I SHOULD have done. Instead I started to walk to her table, cigareete pursed between my lips and beer in tow. A I approached she patted opne of the men on his leg whispering something, they all moved away from the table still scowling at me, I heard one of them say before he left "He's not going to be happy."

I approached the table, she was grinning ever so slightly, and ran a hand through that mass of curls, the smell of jasmine and cloves crept over me , I had an instinctive urge to just pull her into me and bury my face in that mane. I shokk my head slightly "Get ahold of yourself Walker" I thought. Hi. I said as I grinned Her voice was light, sultry, barely more audible than a whisper "hello" she said. I motioned to the table May I? She nodded and I sat. "I'm Stan." And extended my handQUE "Isabel..Isabel Mironov" her voice was thick with an accent prounouncing her name "e-sa-bell" .
Hey Hey lucky me I always went for the exoctic ones. Whos your daddy baby.

She gave a small grin as my fingetrtips brushed her cool skin...bringing gooseflesh across my own, raising the hairs up on my arms, and i could swear to you almost like a brief spark of static electricity passed between us.

"Oh I know who you are.." she smiled again "Dect. Stan Walker, your picture has been in the Post Dispatch quite a bit recently."

Without even realizing it I had leaned in closer to her..to that scent, wanting to breathe her in, to taste her to grab her..to rip that jacket right off of her,and swipe everything off the table and have her..to...WHAT WAS I THINKING? I regained my compuse and leaned back..letting go of her hand but not wantring to, she still had that playful smirk on her face.

I gave her the standard answer, you know the humble ,no i havent done anything special Jack Web answer.. "Just doing my job" i rsplied as i gave a slight grin... and just the facts m'am.i thought to myself asi picked up my mug and tilted to my lips again..and instinctily got out another cig and lit it.

She continued to smile and let those charcoal eyes rest on mine "And from what I have read you do your job well..and you can't tell me you dont enjoy the publicity." "It's not always a bad thing" I lied the truth was I loved every minute of it I am the quinticential show off. Before I got into this line of work I used to sing for a living, I loved being the center of attention no matter where I went. She leaned in and whispered in my ear that sultry voice caressed my earlobe with a gentle touch bringing more goooseflesh, and VERY impure thoughts "and i bet there are other jobs you can do even better than that." She finished her sentance with a quick flick of her tougne to my earlobe, sending a wave of heat coursing thorugh me.

She sounded to me like a badge bunny...had already known who i am..there were women out there that just fall all over a man in uniform any man in uniform i have seen some beautiful women with some of the most god ugly men just because they were a cop. It was looking as if tonight was my lucky night to take this one home in which case there were no complaints form me at all..i was ready to take her right there..was actually trying to restrain myself I dont know what was causing it but the attracation was incredible.



TO BE CONTINUED.....