© 2024 by Legio_Patria_Nostra - Uploaded to Literotica.com, which covers published materials with a site copyright. This story also remains the property of the author, who reserves all rights under international and US copyright law. Any unauthorized reproduction, publication, use, or reprint without the author's expressed authorization is strictly prohibited. This prohibition includes use on YouTube, Amazon, or similar platforms, even with attribution or credit. No more than 3% of this work can be used under Part 107, "Fair Use," nor can it be published with selective editing and declared as a 'motif' or 'republished' for any reason.
--oOo--
This is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons living or deceased is purely coincidental. Some of the themes and subjects contained in this work are of an adult nature, so unless you're 18 or older, do not read this. All characters are over 18.
Warning: This story contains graphic descriptions of a homicide scene as well as references to both criminal activity and suicide. This is also an
anti-cuckold
story! If any of this upsets you, please read something else.
As I read Loving Wives, I'm often curious how the category's familiar themes and subjects would play out in a real-world situation. How would people behave in these surreal circumstances? I've written other stories exploring that idea.
I'm mystified by the proliferation of the numerous cuckold stories where the husband acts more like a girlfriend, often doubling as a doormat/punching bag. Additionally, the frequent abuse and dehumanization of the husband in these stories feels like mistreatment of the mentally ill. Like many, I'm repulsed, but I realize some people actually engage in that lifestyle. This story is about a couple who acted out such an LW plotline with a terrible outcome.
This idea came to me a while back, but the details eluded me. However, while helping a friend, who is a retired homicide detective, edit a book he and his wife wrote, I began to put together the plot. Cops have the most remarkable stories, and many of those tales inspired some of the content. He also provided invaluable insight by reading parts of this work and suggesting ways to simplify or soften the technical aspects of police work.
There's a rather long backstory, which I usually avoid. My talented editor looked at my detailed character sketches and included much more background concerning Detectives Baker and Otero in the first fourth of the story. She reasons that there is too much to their friendship and working dynamic to introduce via storyline, context, or narrative. It also presents the other characters. As always, I'm grateful for her insight and assistance.
Thank you for reading, and I appreciate your honest and constructive feedback via comments and emails.
<<0>>
The Death of Love
The humid, sweltering July night gripped Central City by the throat. Southern Gothic literature enshrines these nights as an oppressive malevolence that tortures the ordinary, inflames the agitated, and drives the afflicted deeper into madness. They worsen everything from petty squabbling to simmering tension to violent encounters. If one works in a hospital emergency room, in the mental health field, or as a cop, these awful nights define much of their professional existence.
The only good thing about that night was that it fell six days before the full moon.
The worn-out ceiling fans in the Central City P.D. Detective Bureau labor non-stop from early March through November. Fighting alongside the aged air-conditioning in the 1960s-vintage 14th Precinct Station that houses the bureau, they make life almost bearable. Night brings no relief because after baking all day, the building's concrete and brick radiate heat all night--the Second Law of Thermodynamics in action.
The use of this outdated facility is a textbook case of unintended consequences spawned by the incestual union of bureaucratic incompetence and political expediency. As the city grew and the inner city gentrified, downtown Central City P.D. Headquarters ran out of room while ever-worsening traffic ate up countless hours of detective work. The City Council hired an expensive, politically connected consulting firm, and after twenty months of endless meetings, working lunches, and cost overruns, they "solved" the problem.
The solution meant redrawing and realigning the police precincts with the city's growth patterns, eliminating the 14th Precinct. The Detective Bureau moved from downtown headquarters to the empty stationhouse closer to the freeways and the cross-town Emmerson Viaduct. The words 'aging' and 'decrepit' never appeared in the glowing press releases proclaiming the repurposed precinct building as 'a more efficient, accessible, and spacious Detective Bureau.' No consultant ever consulted a single detective about the idea. They knew better.
As usual, the frontline cops bitched, complained, and famously adapted. As usual, the police brass saw adaptation as acquiescence.
Monday 20:34
Detectives Carmen Otero and Mike Baker returned to their 20:00 to 08:00 detective shift after a rare four days off. Carmen takes day classes part-time toward a degree in Criminal Justice, and Mike is a lifelong night owl addicted to the frenetic pace of overnight police work. It helps that Mike's wife, Christy, is an RN on the 21:00 to 07:00 ER shift at University Hospital.
At 39, Mike is a fourteen-year police veteran, with ten in the Detective Bureau assigned to Robbery-Homicide. He is a father of two--one with Christy and one adopted child from her first marriage. As an RN specializing in emergency trauma care, his spouse understands the unique nature of his work. Their saving grace is Mike's Aunt Phyllis, a single retired postal worker, who lives with them and helps care for the kids. The Baker household is unorthodox but functional.
Barely 30, Carmen is a five-year departmental veteran with just over two years as a detective. As a pretty girl from a big, traditional Mexican family, police work allowed her to advance on brains and ability. It also rescued her from teaching grade school, a one-year job she detested. Some said that her being a "double-preferential"--female and Hispanic--landed her in Robbery-Homicide. However, those who had worked with her on the tough streets of the Harbor Division knew her as a solid police officer with the intuition and common sense of a more experienced officer.
At the outset, everyone predicted the unlikely Baker-Otero duo would mix like oil and water, as Mike could be temperamental and moody. They were wrong. Carmen felt proud to be partnered with the humble man whom his peers respectfully described as 'natural police.' Mike functioned as a combination training officer, good friend, and confidante, and he inspired her to add a Criminal Justice degree to her education.
Soon, their talents and abilities melded, resulting in a solid working relationship, and Carmen flourished. She softened his rough edges and brought out the mentor in him. Their case assignments and clearance rates show Baker and Otero's effectiveness.
Their remarkable chemistry became evident in their mutual dedication as partners. The bond this relationship creates is often an officer's strongest, including familial. Complete trust and loyalty generates a willingness to risk your life for your partner. In opposite-sex partners, this relationship can also contribute to the profession's high divorce rate. From Day One, this issue did not exist for them.
Mike Baker is a lean 6'3" and fluctuates between 210 and 215. The rest of him is pretty ordinary. If he were of average height, no one would notice Mike. Only his eyes are remarkable. Besides their ice-blue color, they're predatory and alert, constantly moving, seeking all, and missing nothing. He often parks them behind Ray-Ban Aviators.
On the other end of the scale, Carmen is a striking Latina beauty no one forgets. She stands 5'6" with a pretty, heart-shaped face, full, sensous lips, black wavy hair, and an hourglass figure. Her caramel complexion is flawless, and like Mike, her eyes are unforgettable. Carmen often fixes her dark, piercing eyes in an intense, expressive gaze. Her eyes express things her voice can't or won't. Then, in an instant, that intensity can melt into an electric smile that's all eyes.
The crazy, functionally dysfunctional milieu of the squad room soon nicknamed the duo Beauty and the Beast, Plain and Jane, and Rooster and Gallina. Nicknames convey both humor and envy--it's part of the job. The duo is unforgettable, both visually and when they handcuff and Mirandize someone.
That night, Carmen struggled with a personal distraction. The first anniversary of her divorce loomed less than a month away. Another painful reminder occurred on her days off, pushing her into a darker place. Outwardly, she buried her feelings, but Mike, with the intuition police officers develop for their partners, saw through her stoic façade. He patiently bided his time.
As Mike signed a report for one of the district attorney's investigators, he considered his reserved partner and asked, "So... How were your off days?" Neutral and safe.
She continued typing for a few more seconds before replying flatly, "Oh, I guess they were all right." A tight smile masked the sadness. "I went to class and cleaned my apartment." She inhaled to speak but resumed typing. Moments later, she added, "I had a make-up lab in my Investigative Forensics class. Dr. Chenoweth lets me slide a lot."
He understood Carmen's oblique approach. "Hmm," Mike intoned, "How so?"
"He says that since I see the class curriculum in practice every day, I just need to show up when I can, take the tests, and do the online coursework," she recounted.
"Why can't they just give you credit?" Mike asked gently. "They give college credit all the time for real-world experience. If what you do isn't that..." he said, retreating some.
She felt Mike pushing her, and it felt good. She continued, "I'm not sure, but it's an easy A. Since I'm on the force, my professors work around my shifts because they know what a crazy schedule we work." She idly flipped over her I.D. to the quarterly work schedule affixed to her lanyard. "I hand these cards out to my professors so they know when I'll be in. They understand I often work past end-of-shift." She smiled wanly and added, "Then a girl also occasionally needs her beauty rest."
Carmen alluded to the detectives' strange schedule. Their off days and 12-hour shifts varied. Overtime often turned into compensatory flex days off, complicating the scheduling. That night began five days on duty.
"Did you do anything?" Carmen asked. She stalled, and they both knew it.
"Christy worked the first day, so I came in to help Dixon and Moore on that double shooting down at the port grain terminal. Then, we had three days off together for the first time in forever." With a wide but shy smile, Mike added, "Excellent days off."
