Two Inches Too Far A Sequel

TWO INCHES TOO FAR, ... A SEQUEL

By Blackheart93

I like writing sequels and alternate endings; I like dialogue and confrontation. This is a sequel to "Two Inches Too Far," by Rhein1. I felt that Rhein1's story cried out for a conclusion.

I attempted to contact Rhein1, but received no reply.

Rhein1 hasn't published anything on Literotica since 2014 so I don't know that he is still writing.

If he is, I hope he likes my follow-on story.

The Rhein1 story is about an easy-going gentle man named Jake, who had been sexually abused and humiliated earlier in the evening by his wife of 33 years and her young lover. Jake related his story to his longtime friend, Walt, in Walt's bar late in the evening. Jake thought he was going to be arrested soon because he used physical force to escape from his wife and may have hurt her.

Read Rhein1's original story first.

I appreciate the great editing efforts of Randi Black.

From Rhein1...

I stood up and stretched, trying to gauge how drunk I was, and then looked at my friend who understood my shame. "Don't worry about a cab, Walt. I'll just camp out in my car until the police pick me up. If you could call them and just tell them where I am, it would be appreciated." Turning to the door, I said over my shoulder, "Thanks for listening. I feel better than I have in months."

Onward...

I was just about out the door when Walt said, "Hold up a minute, Jake. Come back here and sit your ass down. You may have an option to being arrested."

I told Walt that I couldn't handle more drinking or I would pass out on his bar. He replied, "No more drinking for you. No more liquor at least. I'm going to make a pot of coffee for you."

"What do I need coffee for? I don't particularly want to stay awake, and I'm not going to drive."

By the time I sat down at the bar again, I could smell the coffee brewing.

"What's on your mind, Walt?" I asked, but Walt was not paying attention. He had pulled out a cigar box from under his side of the bar and was rifling through it. It was soon apparent that the box contained dozens and dozens of business cards.

"Here it is," he said as he laid a lone card on the bar and put the cigar box away.

"What do you have there, Walt? A get-out-of-jail free card?"

"Yes," he said, "that's a good guess."

Walt served me a large mug of fresh hot strong coffee and said, "drink up."

Walt left me for a few minutes to attend to some of his other customers. I picked up the business card and read it: "Thalia Starling, Attorney at Law." Further, it said, "Family and Criminal Law."

When Walt returned, he already had his cell phone in his hand. I handed the business card to him and he quickly dialed the number.

He was patient when a recorded voice told him that Thalia's office was closed and to please leave a message. However, the recording went on to provide an emergency phone number that Walt copied onto his hand and then dialed.

Apparently, Thalia answered immediately.

"Thalia, this is your personal bartender... I'm good. How are you?... Do you have a minute?... Yes, I know it's late... No, it can't wait. This is just your kind of problem."

Walt went on to give Thalia a quick and dirty version of the story that I told him. She apparently asked him whether or not he believed me. Walt told her we were very old friends. He also told her that I had terrible cuts and bruises on my wrists and ankles, wounds that will require the attention of a doctor soon.

"No, no. It happened earlier this evening, just a few hours ago."

"Okay, I'll keep him here. He was pretty blasted earlier, but I'm pouring coffee into him now."

When Walt hung up, he poured me a fresh cup of coffee and said, "She'll be here in thirty minutes."

I asked him, "Just who is Thalia Starling?"

"I call her a street lawyer. She is a friend of those who have no friends. When she's on your side, she is like a mama bear protecting her cubs. When she's not on your side, she will eviscerate you like a shark."

Walt pointed out an empty booth towards the back of the lounge and suggested I sit there and wait for Thalia's arrival. After I sat down, he put a pot of coffee on the table in front of me.

I kept my eye on the entrance to the bar in anticipation of seeing Thalia Starling as soon as she showed. For some reason, I imagined a big woman in a dark suit carrying a briefcase. That wasn't what walked through the door.

She was a slender woman of medium height, maybe 5 feet 4 inches tall. She had long dark brown hair that was tied up into a ponytail. Although she wore no makeup, she had an attractive face. She was wearing loose-fitting jeans, a well-worn baggy sweatshirt and flat-heeled shoes. I chuckled to myself because it looked like she was probably comfortably watching TV when she received Walt's call. Instead of a briefcase, she had a backpack slung over her shoulder. She walked with a very confident stride.

The first thing she did was to go to the bar to greet Walt. They both leaned across the counter to give a hug to each other. After another minute, Walt motioned to me in the booth and Thalia looked in my direction.

As she approached the booth, I stood up to meet her. She walked straight up to me and offered me her hand to shake. She had a firm grip, but made no attempt to show me how strong she was.

"Jake, I'm Thalia. I'm pleased to meet you. Walt thinks you have some legal problems that I might be able to help you with."

I replied, "I'm happy to meet you, too. Walt seems to think a lot of you. And you are right, I have some serious problems and I don't know what to do to help myself."

Getting directly to the point, Thalia responded, "Let's sit down. I want you to tell me everything that's happened to you. Start at the beginning and don't leave anything out."

As she was talking, she took out a voice recorder from her backpack, followed by a legal-sized tablet of lined yellow paper.

I forewarned her that some of what I had to say was very embarrassing and humiliating to me. I was not comfortable talking to her about it. It was hard enough describing the event to my old friend, Walt. It is even more difficult talking with a stranger.

Thalia had dealt with reluctant witnesses many times in her career. She reassured me that she was not judgmental and that everything I had to say would be held in the strictest confidence. Her manner calmed me and erased my apprehensions. Over the next hour, I told her my story.

When I had finished, Thalia wanted to double-check the timeline. I told her that I had arrived home early in the afternoon after my wife asked me to come home for a surprise of some sort. By 4PM, I woke up to find myself tied to a chair in the bedroom. I was kept tied up for several hours, until my wife and her lover were finished fucking each other several times over. I didn't check the time but it must have been around 9:30PM when I escaped.

Thalia looked at her watch. "It's now a little after 11:30PM," she said to herself.

I could see her making quick calculations and plans in her head. Then, she quickly threw her recorder and notepad into her backpack and pulled out a point-and-shoot camera.

"Let me see your wounds," she commanded.

I held out my left arm and pulled up my sleeve.

"Oh, my God!" she exclaimed. "That must hurt like hell."

The lawyer took several pictures of the cuts and shredded skin on my wrists. She did the same thing for the other arm. Finally, she had me take off my shoes and socks so she could photograph similar wounds just above my ankles.

"Jake," she started. "we need to get you to an emergency room and let a doctor treat your injuries. However, we need to let the police look at you first to officially document the abuse done to you."

With that, she put her camera back into her backpack and said, "We're outta here!" She waved goodbye to Walt and we headed for the door.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

Thalia responded, "We're going to the police station to file a complaint. You were assaulted."

"Am I going to have to repeat my story? I really don't want the rest of the world to know what happened to me."

She answered me. "I know how you feel. You should not be embarrassed. None of this is your fault. Your wife and her boyfriend have to be held accountable."

Without additional delay, Thalia led me to her car and within 20 minutes, we were at the precinct station. Upon entering, the policeman on night duty recognized Thalia.

"Thalia, what are you doing here and at this hour? We aren't holding anyone here you would be interested in."

"Hi, Joe," Thalia said, obviously recognizing the officer. "I'm not here for a client this time. I am representing this man. His name is Jake. We are here to file a complaint for assault. Who is on the night detective team tonight and are they in?"

"Dave Hatcher and Dick Vogal are working tonight. It has been quiet so far so they are catching up on reports and paperwork. Go on back. You know the way."

Thalia led me around the night officer's post, through a door and down a hall to the rear of the station. Going through a door marked "Official Personnel Only," we ended up in a large semi-lit room with a dozen or so IBM-type desks arranged in groups of two.

On the far side of the room were two desks that were well-lit with active computer screens illuminated. Each desk had a plain-closed detective sitting at it.

Upon hearing footsteps approaching, one of the detectives look up, and recognizing Thalia, said, "Fuck me! Look what the cat dragged in."

"Good morning, Dave," Thalia said. "It's good to see you, too. Hiya, Dick. What did you do to deserve the night shift?

"Hi, Thalia," Dick responded. "I'm just filling in for Dave's partner. He is at the hospital with his wife. They are having a baby sometime tonight."

Dave said, "I know you didn't come all the way down here just to keep us company, Thalia. What's on your mind?"

Thalia pulled two chairs up to the detectives' desks and sat down. She indicated that I should sit down, too.

"This is my client, Jake. He was attacked and assaulted tonight, just a few hours ago. We know who did it and we are here to file a complaint."

Couldn't it wait until morning?" Dick said.

"No," replied Thalia. If my client is going to have a chance for justice, you guys are going to have to get off your asses and play detective while the crime scene is still intact."

"Give me the complaint form to fill out and I will let you listen to Jake's story."

'Oh, and by the way," Thalia added, "look at Walt's wrists."

Thalia pulled the recorder out of her backpack, placed it on the desk and hit 'Play'."

The detectives were overloaded by Thalia's onslaught of assertions and evidence.

It was after 1AM before detectives finished listening to the recorder and asked Thalia what she wanted.

Thalia was direct. "I want us to leap in our police cars and go over to Walt's house. There is a good chance that much of the evidence of this crime is still available. Tomorrow will be too late. I want you to wake up whoever is on CSI call tonight and have them meet us there as well. Finally, I want a doctor to take care of Jake's injuries."

Dave looked at Dick and said, "I would much rather be out there than sitting here in front of my computer screen until dawn."

Dick agreed and started making phone calls.

Before they left the station, the detectives photographed my injuries again. This time it was for an official record.

They also picked up a female police officer, Karen Black, to go with them.

In the garage, they were assigned two black-and-white police cruisers.

We proceeded to my home, a thirty-minute drive, with red and blue flashing lights on but no siren.

We arrived about 3AM. The car I was in with Thalia parked in my driveway and the other at the curb in front of the house. The red and blue flashing lights remained on.

As the detectives were assembling in front of the house, a civilian car pulled up to the address. It was the CSI representative, Don Logan. He got out of the car with his oversized briefcase of tools and instruments and met the police officers, Thalia and I accompanied the policemen to the front door.

Dave took the lead and rang the doorbell, multiple times. He didn't expect a rapid response to his late night/early morning announcement, but he didn't want to be ignored. If the door hadn't opened within a very few minutes, Dave was prepared to enter the house with my house key.

Finally, an interior hall light came on and a shadowy figure could be seen moving around inside of the cut glass windows of the door. The door opened.

"What the hell is going on out here?" an angry Vickie demanded. She was dressed in just a white satin robe and slippers. She had no makeup on and her hair was disheveled.

Dave didn't let her say anything else before he held up his badge for her to see, and in a very authoritative voice, said, "We are metropolitan police and we are here to investigate a complaint that has been filed with our office tonight. I am Detective Dave Hatcher and this is Detective Dick Vogal. We would like to come inside."

Vickie quickly responded, "No, you can't come in here. You need a search warrant."

Dave stepped aside so that Vickie could see me standing a few feet behind him. And then he said, "This house belongs to you and your husband and he has given us permission to enter. We do not need a search warrant. Please stand aside."

With that, Dave walked into the house, forcing Vickie to step aside. The rest of us followed Dave past the threshold.

Vickie was not a woman to be easily intimidated, not even by the police. Neither was she blind to the fact that I was with the police and that, no doubt, whatever the intrusion was about, it concerned me and the events of the previous evening.

She looked at me with daggers in her eyes. "What has my husband been telling you."

Dave answered, "Your husband has filed a criminal complaint against you and a man named Darren for criminal assault."

"Whatever he said," she responded, "it's a lie. Anything that went on here last night was entirely consensual by all parties. Just because my husband now regrets his actions does not mean that anything illegal transpired."

Dave replied, "That is what we are here to determine."

"If you would," he continued, "please remain here with Officer Black while we have a look upstairs."

"Thalia, please have your client come with us."

With that, we proceeded up the stairs to the master bedroom. Dave stopped us outside the door. He put on rubber gloves and then slowly pushed the door open. It was dark inside, so he reached to the wall switch and turned on the lights.

The scene that greeted us was as it was when I left the house. The bed was disheveled and there was a large wooden chair facing the side of the bed.

"That chair doesn't look like it is part of the bedroom set. Where is it normally located?" Dave asked me.

"It's normally in the family room," I said. "Darren must have carried it up here because it is too big and heavy for Vickie to lift."

Dave motioned for Don Logan to come forward. He was the first to enter the room. He was wearing rubber gloves and bag covers on his shoes. His immediate action was to take numerous photographs of the room from all directions. He concentrated a lot on the chair. Next, he walked to the bed and carefully pulled back the covers. Large wet spots were readily apparent. He took pictures. Then, he bent down to the floor near the large chair. Using long pincers, he picked up pieces of plastic binders and looked at them with a magnifying glass.

"It looks like blood and skin," he said, almost to himself.

He put all the pieces of plastic in evidence bags. Next, he examined the chair itself. There were obvious deep scratches both in the arms of the chair and on the front legs.

"More blood and skin," he announced as he photographed everything up close and took more samples.

"I've seen enough," Dave said to his partner.

"I'll do the honors if you like," Dick replied and started back down the stairs. Thalia and I followed him.

Dick confronted my wife. "You are under arrest for sexual assault, unlawful restraint and unlawful detention. Officer Black, please place this lady in handcuffs."

As Karen Black handcuffed Vickie behind her back, Dick continued. "It would be to your benefit to give me the full name and address of your friend, Darren. If you don't, we will get it by other means, probably from your company."

Vickie was incredulous. "You can't do this to me. My husband is lying to you. Darren and I didn't do anything to be arrested for. Sex isn't illegal. A ménage à trois is nothing to be arrested for."

"A judge will decide on Monday whether or not you committed an illegal act. Meanwhile, you are going downtown with us where you will be held until you are arraigned on the matter."

"Officer Black, please read this lady her Miranda Rights."

Dick Vogel looked Vickie in the face and said, "I wouldn't make any more statements if I were you until you speak to a lawyer."

"I can't go like this! I need to put on some clothes," Vickie shouted as she was being led out of the house.

Officer Black answered her. "Unfortunately, your bedroom is a crime scene. You are not allowed back in there under any circumstances. You will be given clothes to wear once you are downtown."

A protesting Vickie was escorted to the police car at the curb with the very strong guidance of Officer Black and placed in the back seat.

All the activity and the flashing lights had awakened many of the neighbors. They were standing on their porches and lawns curious about what was going on. Several of them called to Vickie while she was being placed in the police car but she was obviously very embarrassed and did not answer them.

The next hour was taken up with various activities by the CSI expert. He sealed the bedroom with yellow tape that had "Crime Scene -- Do Not Enter" imprinted on it in black. He also photographed the imprints on the rug in the family room where the heavy wooden chair was normally located.

Turning to me, he said, "You can't go into your bedroom for a day or so. You will have to make do with the clothes you have on. You can remain in the house tonight, just use a spare bedroom. I will be back tomorrow or the next day to clear the bedroom for occupancy."

Don packed up his gear, said a few parting words to the detectives, and left.

Dave approached Thalia and I, who were sitting on the sofa in the family room watching events unfold.

"We're finished here," he announced. Jokingly, he continued, "I hope you know how much more paperwork you have caused for us."

Thalia thanked both of the detectives for their support and diligence in the middle of the night. I did, too.

Again, Dave joked, "That's why they pay us the big bucks."

Dick went out, joined Officer Black in a squad car and drove off toward the precinct station. Dave left soon thereafter.

Alone in the house, Thalia turned to me, breathed deeply and asked, "Do you have anything to drink around here? Bourbon would be especially appreciated."

"I can do that," I replied. "I'll have a shot for me, too. After all the coffee I have had, I need something to help me sleep."

After we sat down on the sofa again, I turned to Thalia and said, "What do I owe you for all you have done for me tonight?"

"Don't worry about the cost of my services right now. Eventually I will bill you. First, we have to get together and talk about what happens next. For instance, after the trial on criminal charges, I can see civil lawsuits against both your wife and her boyfriend. Also, your wife's company may not be blameless in this matter. Certainly, a company like the one your wife worked for had an anti-fraternization policy. A number of people, including top management, must have known that your wife and her subordinate were having an on-going affair. Why didn't they exercise the provisions of their anti-fraternization policy and fire them?