Swamp Frogs

This story is part of an ongoing series.

The chronological order of my stories is listed in WifeWatchman's biography, which is currently not updating. Stories after Music Box Dancer are:

Return To Apple Grove, Media Matters, Swamp Frogs.

Feedback and

constructive

criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

Part 6 - The Decision

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg!" the reporterette said excitedly as she broke into the 'Point Taken' show on Friday, July 20th. "The Independent State Counsel's Special Grand Jury's decisions are being released right now!" She began listening to her earpiece.

"And Fox Two News has just learned that the Special Grand Jury has

declined

to indict Police Commander Donald Troy on any charges!" Bettina said a second later, her face falling considerably as she stated the news into the ears of the Citizens of the State. "Again, the Special Grand Jury declined to bring any indictments at all against Commander Donald Troy. We now go to Amber Harris, who is standing by with Dr. Romanov of the University's Institute for Political Policy. Amber!"

"

That's right

, Bettina!" said Amber, who looked very crestfallen. "The Grand Jury declined to follow through on Independent State Counsel Robert Mullen's recommendations to indict Donald Troy. Dr. Romanov, where do we go from here?"

"It's over, Amber." said Dr. Romanov. "The Independent State Counsel cannot bring indictments except through the Special Grand Jury, and it is very unlikely they or a new Grand Jury will reverse this refusal to bring indictments..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was the loudest cheer in MCD in a long time, and I heard it all the way in my closed-off office. I felt numb. I had been less fearful of being in that helicopter with Pastor Raymond Kyle Westboro than I had been of the Special Grand Jury. But I'd held faith that things would work out, and for me they had. The 'system' had worked... this time. The relief I felt was almost debilitating.

I heard a commotion in the hallway. I got up and walked into the anteroom of my office. Lauren gave me a wan smile, which was pretty good for her. Helena was failing to hold back tears.

"I told you things would be okay." I said as she stood up and I hugged her. She started crying some more, then regained her composure.

I stepped into the hallway, which was now full of Officers, and received an ovation from them. Cindy came up and hugged me, relief on her ruggedly pretty face.

"Okay, guys, we have law and order to keep around these parts." I said. "Let's get back to it." The crowd began dispersing back to their duties. As I turned to go to the Chief's office at his 'request', I saw Chief Griswold looking at me, unable to hide something more than relief on his face. I had to work to not get emotional myself.

I was told later that Police cruisers were honking their horns, sounding their sirens, and burning their blue lights upon hearing the announcement on their car radios. When Captain Croyle asked if we needed to send an email reminding everyone that sirens and blue lights were only for responding to emergencies, I told her that we could interpret their actions as just that: a response to an emergency, overcome.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The emotions were vastly different in certain groups of people that had been watching.

"Good grief." said U.S. Senator Samuel Russell, his face looking as devastated as he felt.

"That mother fucker is teflon." said Curtis Meigs, CEO of BigRoadAndRailCorp. BigAgraFoods Acting CEO Mitt Bain Willis said nothing, and was trying hard to keep a look of deep concern going on fear from showing on his face.

Independent State Counsel Robert Mullen took a phone call from State Attorney General Karl Handel. "Yes, Mr. Handel," Mullen said, "I know it's bad. I did all I could. Only 3 of the 15 voted for indictments. The rest simply weren't convinced by my arguments, and apparently they were swayed by Troy's testimony." Mullen declined to mention that his gambit vis-a-vis the 'Hardwood Question' had backfired. Badly.

"Do you still have the means to pursue Jared?" asked Handel. "Or is it over?"

"Oh no, we still have plenty to go on to get that Fascist out of the Governor's Mansion." said Mullen. "And we'll keep the investigation going...

until right before the November elections...

"

Part 7 - Moving On

My wife called some minutes later on my personal iPhone.

"I just called to thank you, Darling." Laura said. "The roses are lovely."

"You're lovelier." I said. "Happy anniversary. And thank

you

for the five happiest years of my life." Yes, we were married five years ago this day. Best decision I ever made, I reaffirmed to myself.

"That is so sweet of you." Laura said. "And to remember, even with all that's been going on around you. Congratulations on that, by the way."

"Thank you." I said. "It

is

a relief to get that past me, so I can move on to busting some perps' heads."

"I'll let you get to it." Laura said. "I have special presents for you... but they'll have to wait until tonight..."

Lucky. Lucky Iron Crowbar, I thought to myself...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Amazing." said Jack Muscone as he sat in my office at 10:00am, this same Friday, July 20th. "Nobody would bet against you, but in truth only the Deputy Director thought you had a chance to beat the rap with no charges at all. And we were kind of hoping you wouldn't... so you'd come to work with us on a permanent basis."

"Wow, with friends like you, who needs enemies?" I replied, grinning. "But seriously, I have to admit to being surprised, myself. It would have been nice to be a fly on the wall and hear why they decided what they did, but I guess we'll never know."

"We shouldn't, anyway." said Muscone. He then made the sign asking me to turn the bug-killer on. I did so.

"I can tell you what we

do

know." said Muscone. "Everything you ever wanted to know about what Mittens Willis is saying and doing."

"Ahhhh." I said, figuring it out. "You got Federal warrants to bug him?"

"Home, offices, car, telephones, including unscrambling his cellphone encryption." said Muscone. "And it's unlikely he'll find out about it; we got FISA warrants."

"Wow, how did you---" I started, then it hit me: "Oh... the farmland poison cases. You presented them as domestic terror cases. So the EAD has that much clout?"

"Yes we did go the domestic terror route." said Muscone. "But no, the EAD was not the one. We've still got plenty of friends in the FBI, and the Deputy Director knows who to trust still. We've got guys looking into the new CIA Director... he's almost to the point of being considered a 'bad actor'. And now we're looking into Mittens. Unfortunately, he acts almost as paranoid as

you

do, at times. We're getting nothing direct on the Feingold murder, but we are hearing him discuss strategy for protecting BigAgraFoods and Senator Russell."

I nodded. "I do hope that when I put Mittens before a Grand Jury, he will not have as favorable a result as I did."

"Which is why I'm here this morning." said Jack. "No new ideas on cracking the file?"

"No." I said. "Not yet."

"Oh, there's one small thing I forgot to mention." Jack said. "You've been working on what you call the 'Queenie Files'. Well, Mitt spoke of them when he was talking to U.S. Senator Russell. He said he needs to find them and, quote, 'clean all that up', unquote."

"

What?!"

I practically screamed. "Why didn't you tell me that first thing?"

"Is it really that big?"

"Are you fucking with me?" I asked incredulously. "Yes, it's the biggest thing so far!" I then went into a reverie. If Jack had really wanted to burn me at the stake, I would not have heard, seen, nor felt a thing...

When I finally awoke, Jack stopped writing emails on his cellphone and looked up at me. "Anything come to mind?"

"Yes." I said. "Let's start at the beginning, to get you up to speed on anything you might not know. First, Queenie found something on someone. It wasn't Jared. Second, she said if she were killed, to contact Jack Lewis, our former SBI Director and

failed

candidate for Governor, about the 'Willis Files'. Obviously I won't be contacting Jack Lewis personally, but it's something to keep in mind. Also note that she called them the '

Willis

' files."

"Third, Queenie chose to not expose anyone, and chose to not reveal the information to anyone... though I think Katherine Woodburn must know... then again, unless the information is about Woodburn herself. Let's put that aside for a moment. So who is someone Queenie didn't want to expose, but didn't want to destroy the information on?"

"The Harlan-Gonzales scandal?" asked Muscone. "She held it back to protect herself from being murdered, which didn't work."

"But would Jack Lewis reveal it if that was the information? And that goes if it was about any Democrat." I asked. "Nooooo... it has to be something else... someone else... Not a Republican, either; Queenie hated Republicans and would've eagerly given the Press that information. Doubtful it was anything on me or other Police, or the military... Queenie hated us, and especially the military, with a passion..."

"Soooo..." I mused, still introspective, "who could the subject be?"

"You may be back to Katherine Woodburn." said Muscone. "She's a Democrat, but is becoming a huge rival to Jack Lewis and his faction, which hopes to regain control of the Governor's Mansion and the SBI. Flip side of that is that by all accounts, Queenie worshipped Katherine Woodburn, so I don't know if she'd expose Katherine even from her grave."

"True." I said. "And I'll add one more item: Queenie was murdered at the same time there was an attempt on Jared's life. Now who would want them both dead?"

"All the Usual Suspects that want Jared dead have to be considered." said Jack. "It narrows down if we consider they

intended

to kill her at the same time."

"Exactly." I said. "So here is where I am with it: companies like BigAgraFoods give generous campaign contributions to

both

political parties and candidates of both parties. So if Queenie found out something on BigAgraFoods, just as an example, she may hold it back, thinking she or Woodburn could use the information to extort more money out of BigAgraFoods, or have them support only Democrats."

"But they wouldn't do that." said Muscone. "Willis is going to run for Senate as a Republican."

"So they wanted more money -or- they were holding back in a

quid pro quo

scenario... if Mittens had something on Katherine, she had this on Mittens. Mutually assured destruction."

"Could be." said Muscone. "But Mittens didn't say anything about all that, at least not within hearing of our bugs. He seems to be focused totally on protecting BigAgraFoods' interests in the Feingold murder and this poisoning situation, and then he's focused on fighting Jared and Bill Nunn, and the run for Senate."

"So, let's consider one last thing about the Queenie Files." I said. "She's holding something for blackmail over someone... someone who has the power to mount an attack on Jared, which got her killed too. She told confidantes to go to Jack Lewis, confident he'd give up the info to avenge her."

"But he hasn't, that we know of." Jack said.

"Which means he may not know about it." I said. "After all, someone came to

me

, asking to avenge Queenie, not to Lewis. So maybe her trust in Lewis was misplaced. Or, maybe he does know about it, and has chosen to 'do nothing'. No... he doesn't know."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I'm breaking my own rule, and theorizing without sufficient data." I said. "My theory, Jack, is that

Governor Jared has a mole within his organization, and that mole is spying under duress of exposure from the Queenie Files!

"

Muscone emitted a long, low whistle. "Wow," he said, "it makes sense, but you're right in that you're going out on a limb."

I took out my personal iPhone. "Chief Griswold!" I said into it, "I need a favor from you... I'll explain more when Special Agent Muscone buys us both lunch at the Cop Bar..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"So you think there's a mole in the Governor's Office?" asked Griswold as we ate lunch.

"Yes, Chief." I said. "And I'd appreciate it if you called him and told him of my concerns."

"Sure, I can do that." said Griswold. "And that reminds me... you might want to call the SBI-OER office. I'm hearing they're finding some things, as well."

"I'll do that." I said.

"So, Agent Muscone," said Griswold, his voice a growl but his mustaches twitching, "you find those Guardians of Justice characters yet?"

"No, but we're looking into candidates for Sheriff as possible culprits." said Muscone, giving it right back.

"Har!" said Griswold. "Those characters are distracting you from your real work, busting that arrogant bastard who never truly farmed anything for a day in his life."

"Trying to tell us something, Chief?" I asked as I finished off my Breakfast Burger.

"Nothing you don't already know, Crowbar." the Chief replied.

"How's your campaign going?" Muscone asked the old Chief, and I wondered to myself if he was trying to distract us from GOJ talk.

"Pretty good, actually." said the Chief. "I'm going to make another round of the civic clubs and churches and other groups in the Fall, so it's a quiet period right now for me. And as you know, I'm not doing campaign appearances to raise money, but people are insisting upon donating anyway. So we're going to have some signs made up... as soon as we can come up with a good, catchy campaign slogan."

I smiled as I said "I like the one Joanne Warner came up with the other day. She said in that happy way of hers 'Grizz means Bizz!'. It sounded good."

"Har." said the Chief. "I like that. The one I was thinking about loses something in the translation from the original Klingon." I burst out laughing at that one...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Hi Britt." I said as I sat in my office, having just telephoned the Inspector General of the SBI, Britt Maxwell. "How is it going in the SBI-OER?"

"You

do

have wonderful timing." replied Britt. "Some things are coming up. First, though, congratulations on beating Mullen and his dirty tactics."

"Thanks." I said. "But all that's not over yet."

"No, it's not, for the Governor, at least." Britt said. "And that's what I need to talk to you about. Norm, too." Norm Chow worked for Britt in the SBI-OER division.

"Can you talk now?" I asked.

"Oh, sure." said Britt. "But here's the story: the Governor was talking about things with his lawyers and sometimes with his closest staff, mostly about the Mullen investigation and how they were going to deal with certain things. they talked about pardoning you, pardoning Captain Croyle, too, in the event either of you were falsely indicted, so that you couldn't be suspended."

"And I didn't want to be pardoned; I wanted to fight it out in Court, should the need have arisen." I said.

"True," said Britt, "but the point is that it was being leaked to the Press that he was going to do that. They didn't really run with it it, but they knew, and it got back to Jared that they knew."

"So he

does

have a mole in his office." I said.

"And worse," said Britt, not catching the inflection of my words, "that mole may be SBI-related. You know who SBI Lieutenant Mills is, don't you?"

"Yeah, he was Robert Gaston's assistant." I said. "He's considered dirty by those of us who know more than we should about such things."

Britt laughed into the telephone. "Yes, again true. Well, I had Chow and some others here look into Mills. He's been keeping below the radar, and then we got word that he's aware of our probe of him, and had information that let him keep from getting ensnared by our traps for him."

"You check for bugs in your offices?" I asked.

"Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday." said Britt. "We shuffle the people doing it, too."

"So you've got a mole, too." I said. "Hmmmm..."

"And they may be the same person." said Britt. "We've been coordinating with the Governor's people a lot more than you might realize."

"I dunno, I can realize a lot." I said. Britt laughed.

"Yes you can." she replied. "Anyway, stay aware of things, like you always do..."

Part 8 - Reproductive Services

Saturday, July 21st. I was still groggy from the night of drinking and amazing sex with Laura. We'd gone to the Chop House for dinner. We got a few strange looks, but most people saw a couple in love, and didn't really seem to have any worries about it in their faces.

It was about 6:30am when I got dressed and went downstairs. Bowser was sitting by the back door, ready to be taken out. Buddy, by way of contrast, was sound asleep in Jim's room. Normally I'd wake him up to come along, but today I decided to just take Bowser out.

I sat down on the metal mesh chair and enjoyed the sight of the Town below me in the early morning light. A train was coming out of the western horizon, then made the curve south and moved steadily along. I wondered where the freight it was hauling was going.

Bowser normally would check out his territory, go somewhere on the hillside below to do his business, then mosey on back to me. Today I noticed that something had gotten his attention, and he'd wandered on past the side of the house.

The Mountain Nest was the last house on the road that eased down the mountain near the athletic complex. Worried that Bowser might be walking down the road and into traffic, I went looking for him. As I passed the driveway of the house next door, I heard a commotion and a bark. I went up to investigate.

A woman about Laura's age, in her housecoat over her pajamas, was yelling at Bowser and was getting a stick. Bowser was mounted upon a female dog, mostly white herself, and had achieved the 'copulatory tie'. The woman was about to hit my dog with the stick.

"Get off her!" the woman was yelling as she brought the stick down. It was intercepted by my sword cane, which I'd been using to walk up and down the stairs of my back porch as well as along the road.

"Don't hit my dog, ma'am." I said. "He's only doing what Nature intended."

"Who are you?" snarled the woman. "Get your dog off my dog and get off my property! I'll call the Police!"

I exhibited my badge. Yes, I was carrying it, too; I always do.

"Ma'am, I

am

the Police." I said. "And your dog would be injured if I tried to separate her from my dog right now. You gotta let 'em finish."

"Aw, crap." the woman said, then burst out: "I've been keeping her inside. I let her out to use the bathroom, and this dog just showed up and started humping her. Where did he come from?"

"Next door. The house at the end of the road." I said. "And yes, male dogs will find a female dog in heat."

"What's going on?" I heard a female voice say. I looked over my shoulder to see my wife Laura coming up. "Hello Dr. Childers."

"Dr. Fredricson." said Childers in reply. "Oh... is this your husband?"

"Yes, he is." said Laura. "And that's his dog. Don, this is Dr. Julia Childers, Dean of the College of Education. Julia, this is my husband, Don Troy."

"Oh, my." said Childers. "I wish we were meeting under better circumstances, Commander Troy."