To Serve and Protect

By: BJ Williams
(© 2013 by the author)
Edited by: Gerry Young

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 1

“Dammit it, Travis, answer me,” Thom demanded as he hurtled his car faster down Boston Road.

“I’m sending a squad car to investigate,” Blue announced over the radio.

“Thanks Blue, I’m already on my way,” he told her. “Where did you send him,” he asked and Blue told him. “Ten-four, send back-up,” he said, his lights and siren were already on as he turned onto Bay Street.

All the while he drove, his dream kept replaying in his mind. As much as he wanted to disbelieve it, he knew in his heart that Travis lay dying, if not already dead. Thom knew the power of his dreams, he’d rarely been wrong and he prayed, that just one time, it would NOT be so.

It took just minutes to get there, but to Thom it felt like hours, Thom pulled into the area and hurriedly drove around the buildings, his bright spot light illuminating the building. When he turned the corner leading to the back of the buildings, he saw Travis’ car and the door was still opened. Panic and loss assaulted him as he came to an abrupt stop behind it, threw the car into park before it actually stopped and dashed from it. He knew that Travis wasn’t in it, but he checked anyway. His heart was pounding as he looked over the car’s roof and there, lying face down, he saw Travis, naked on the litter-covered pavement. His heart about stopped as he shouted and ran.

“Noooooooo,” his cry was like thunder as he ran to Travis’ side. “Oh please dear God, please don’t let him be dead,” he prayed as he felt for a pulse. Nothing.

Thom turned him over and again, he felt for a pulse. Nothing, and Thom immediately began CPR. He was still doing it when a cruiser arrived. Jonas Cambridge shot out of his cruiser and ran over to Thom.

“Oh fuck!” he cursed. “Blue, I got a man down,” he called out into his shoulder mounted radio.

He turned back towards Thom, who had Travis’ body cradled in his arms, rocking back and forth as he cried.

“Why didn’t you ever take my dreams seriously,” Thom cried out as he rocked on his knees, holding Travis’ limp body to him.

“I’ve got help coming,” James said but Thom ignored him.

Jonas turned away when he called for the coroner, being careful that Thom didn’t hear him.

When Craig arrived minutes later, as was protocol whenever an officer was down, the coroner had arrived and already examining Travis’ body, Thom collapsed and he was taken away in the ambulance that had responded,  to the hospital, where he was treated, and eventually released to a police officer.

*       *       *

The funeral had been covered by the media, Travis’ fellow officers, as well as those from around the state, attended. Thom stood between Claire and Andrew, Travis’ son. Andrew stood stoically, with his face showing his anger and pain; he flinched as the guns fired in honor of a fallen policeman.

“I swear to you, Andy, that I’ll get the bastard that did this,” Thom swore as they stood watching an honor guard folding the flag that had draped the casket.

“I’ve got nine weeks left to the academy, Uncle Thom, and if you haven’t got him by then, I will,” Andy adamantly told him.

“On behalf of your husband’s fellow brothers and sisters in arms, I offer you our deepest condolences,” Captain Craig Thompson said, as he handed the folded flag to Claire. “If there is anything I can do, Claire, anything, just ask me.”

“Thank you, Craig, but if you want to do something for me, catch the bastard that did this,” she said with anger and hatred in her voice.

“I promise you, Claire, that all available men are on it and we will catch him,” he told her.

Claire, Andrew, and Thom turned and left the grave site, returning to the limousine that had brought them. Thom took one last look at Travis’ coffin as it waited lowering into the ground, and sighed.

“I promise you, Travis, that whoever did this will regret the day that he was born,” he silently said and got into the car, allowing the chauffeur to close the door behind him.

“Two down and many more to go, sweetheart, before I rid this city of every man and hustler to have ever slept with you,” the killer promised as he walked from the grave.

*       *       *

Ten weeks later…

Andrew James Butler was sworn in as a Springfield police officer, as were several other cadets. He was assigned to the third shift, as a rookie, and his assignment was to Jonas Cambridge, a seasoned officer. Although, finally, he was happy to be a police officer, he was adamant about finding his father’s killer.

Travis Butler had been the first of many murders committed by, what the local press had now dubbed, the Riverfront Strangler. Although, Travis had not been murdered or his body found in Riverfront Park, his murder had kicked off a string of murders, nine to be exact, with each body found in Riverfront Park.

“This here is your locker, the showers are over there, and the head is through there,” Jonas said, pointing to each place that he called out.

Jonas Cambridge, at thirty-one was ten years Andy’s senior. He was a decorated officer, having been on the force for ten years and now had Andy assigned to him. Andy opened his locker and hung his four uniforms inside and began to remove his street clothes.

“You have ten minutes until roll call, rookie, so change into your uniform quickly; I hate being late,” Jonas instructed and moved four lockers down, opened the door of his locker and began undressing. “I’m really sorry about your dad; he was a great man and an even better officer of the law,” he said and then pulled his blue tee-shirt over his head.

“Thanks sir, I really appreciate that,” Andy replied, dropping his jeans and stepping from them.

“I was the first to arrive after Detective Sullivan,” he told Andy. “It broke my heart to see a strong guy like Thom, as he cradled your dad’s body and was crying.

“I still can’t believe that after all these weeks since dad’s death, and with the mounting murders, that the killer has not been caught yet,” Andy told him.

“The mayor ordered a task force to deal with the murders,” he told him. “But so far they haven’t made much leeway,” Jonas turned when Andy didn’t respond. He saw him standing there in just his boxer briefs, and gasped.

It took Andy minutes to change, close his door and turn his attention to Jonas.

“All ready, sir,” Andy said as he closed and locked up his locker, turning to see that Jonas was still undressing. ‘And he told me to hurry when he’s nowhere close to ready,’ he thought as he took a seat and looked around the room.

He eventually turned to see that Jonas’ body was out of shape; Andy thought that that was the case with more than half of the men — not fat, but then again, not muscularly built either. Jonas’ arms were scrawny, as well as his legs and he had a large protruding belly with sagging breasts.

‘He definitely should lay off the donuts and use a bra,’ Andy thought as he looked up at his partner and noticed that his brown hair was thinning and sparse.

“I’ll be right with you,” Jonas said without turning.

Jonas closed his locker door and with Andy beside him, they walked off for roll call.

“They’ll call out the names of us that should be on duty tonight and then introduce you rookies to the fellow officers,” he explained as they walked away.

“I’m aware of that, sir; my father and uncle were cops. Well, my uncle is still a cop,” he corrected and Jonas nodded.

“Also, let’s drop the sir shit; it makes me feel old, like my dad. I’m just thirty-one, which is not all that old.” This surprised Andy, because Jonas looked much older — like a man in his late forties.

“Yes sir, I mean, Jonas.”

*       *       *

Captain Thompson called out the names and then proceeded to introduce the rookies. As Andy sat listening, his eyes roamed the room, until he found Thomas Sullivan. Thom was looking at him and both smiled and nodded, each returning his attention to what Captain Thompson was saying.

“That’s about it,” he said in closing. “Now, to you rookies, you have already been assigned to and met your partner, so pay close attention to whatever your assigned officer says. He’s your back up as you are his. Good luck and stay safe,” he said, closing the nightly roll call.

“Can I take a moment to say hello to my uncle, I mean to Detective Sullivan,” Andy asked and Jonas nodded, surprised to hear that Thom was his uncle.

“Thomas Sullivan is your uncle,” he asked.

“Well, not technically, but out of respect for him, I always called him Uncle Thom growing up. He and my dad were best friends, having met at the academy,” he explained.

“Go ahead, but don’t dawdle,” Jonas told him. “I’ll check out our cruiser and meet you outside,” he added with a wave over his shoulder as he left the room.

As Andy made his way to where Thom was standing, Thom said,  “Well, look at you, kid — so handsome in your uniform,” Thom proudly said.

“Will you stop making of him? You’ll give him a fat head,” Thom’s partner remarked.

“Do you know who his father was, Jim?” Thom asked, causing Jim to shrug his shoulders as he if cared.

“Yeah, Butler’s son, so big fucking deal,” Jim told him. “So what do you want from me, hugs and kisses? Well guess what, it ain’t going to happen,” he sarcastically added and walked away.

“Is that the Jim Branson that dad was always bitching about?” he whispered to Thom.

“One and the same, and my fucking partner,” Andy could tell by Thom’s expression that he was not happy about it.

“I’ll tell you one thing about him, he may be a good detective, but he’s loud, arrogant, and thinks he’s God’s gift to the force,” Thom said and then continued. “In fact, he thinks he’s God gift to the world,” he added sarcastically.

“I wanted to ask you earlier, but I didn’t get a chance. What do I call you,” Andy whispered to Thom. “I can’t very well call go around calling you Uncle Thom,” he added.

“Right, so call me whatever you like, kid; after all, we’re both police officers now.”

“I’d like to call you Sully, if you don’t mind.”

“Wow, talk about a name from the past; that was a name that your dad gave me back at the academy.”

“How come I never heard him call you that,” Andy asked.

“Well, once we graduated, he called me Thom, because Sully was too personal for him to use amongst the men. He just got into calling me Thom and stopped using Sully, I guess, kid.”

Andy leaned closer to Thom, so close that Thom’s cologne, brought back memories to him, and whispered.

“Ah, Sully, can you not call me kid anymore? I’m twenty-one and if the others hear you using it, it may stick.”

“Sure kid, I mean Andy,” Thom said and laughed. “To me, Andy, you’ll always be that kid who loved tagging along with your dad and me. I don’t mean it in a derogatory way, or to make you feel like one; it's like kid is for me, what Sully was for your dad, but I’ll try to remember not to use around the guys. Now you had better go. Jonas hates to be kept waiting.”

“Stay safe, Sully, and I’ll see you in the morning,” Andy said and hurried out of the room.

*       *       *

“Sorry, Jonas, I didn’t mean to take so long,” he apologized after he got into the car.

“Just don’t make it a habit. Got it?” he asked dryly as he gave him a quick glance.

“Got it, Jonas,” Andy replied.

As the night went on, Jonas explained the boundaries of their beat and introduced him to some of the locals that did business on the streets.

“You don’t arrest them for hustling or prostitution?” Andy inquired.

“That’s vice’s territory, but I respect them and they respect me; after all, they are your eyes and ears on the street. We can’t be everywhere at all times, so they keep me abreast of the comings and goings of the not so savory crowd.”

“I see. They, like, watch our backs when we can’t,” he said and Jonas nodded.

“Exactly, now take this cutie walking all macho, his name is Michael Brady. He’s one of the older guys working the block and most handsome. He turned eighteen a month ago and still pulling the men in like he was still a kid.”

Andy gave Michael a hard look and wondered what drove a person to sell his body for a living. Michael didn’t look like the other kids who worked the block; he looked more like a Hollywood leading man type. He was tall, ruggedly so, like Clark Gable, but with shoulder length brown hair, softly curling and had hazel colored eyes. He wore a tee-shirt that had the arms and lower half ripped off, exposing arms that were muscularly ripped and well-defined, as well as an abdomen which showed off his six-pack.

“Doesn’t he want to better himself? After all, with his looks he should be in the movies, or at least, television,” he asked Jonas who just shrugged his shoulders.

“I hope not, because you can’t get better information on what’s going down on the streets from anyone else. Andy, when Michael tells you something is going down, or he says that the culprit you are looking for is here or there, believe him, because it's gospel; so never doubt it. By the way, he’s one bad ass dude with an arrogant attitude to match, so don’t fuck with him or you’ll regret it,” he warned as he pulled to the curb and motioned to Michael.

Michael immediately came over to the passenger side of the cruiser, just as Jonas and Andy had gotten out.

“'Sup Jonas; how’s it hanging?” he greeted with his usual cocky grin. “I see that your gut is getting bigger. You might want to walk your beat instead of riding,” Michael coldly commented laughing before he leaned closer and asked, “So who’s the cute stud,” he asked, smiling with perfectly white teeth at Andy.

“Hey, hey, he’s a rookie and my partner for the next eight weeks until he gets broken it, so show some respect here,” he said and Michael immediately stood up and moved around the car.

“Just say the word, Jonas, and I’ll break stud puppy in,” Michael said as he turned toward Andy.

Andy grew nervous when Michael leaned in; his face was so close to Andy’s that Andy leaned away. Michael smiled at him and placed a hand on either side of Andy, boxing him in. After a long, lingering look, he grabbed Andy behind the neck, pulled him forward and kissed him, while his other hand began to fondle Andy’s crotch. Andy struggled to pull away and as he did, he instinctively pushed Michael away.

“I’m not like that; you want to be arrested for accosting an officer?” Andy asked sharply as he looked him sternly in the eyes.

“Really? I mean, really, because my gaydar says that you are not only hitting for my team, but that you want me as well,” he said with a smug grin and Andy shook his head. “Whatever you say, stud puppy, but a hottie like you should be in my bed,” he added and hurried over to a car that had pulled to the curb a few car lengths away.

“Bold fucker, isn’t he,” Andy nervously asked of Jonas, who let out a roar of laughter.

“Bold as well as arrogant and hung like a horse,” Jonas told him before he turned back to Michael.

“And you know this … how?” Andy asked, but before Jonas replied, Michael had rejoined them.

“Can you do me a favor, Jonas,” he asked pausing to look around the street a moment. “My friend, Danny, he’s not been around tonight and I’m really worried about him,” he told the officer. “So could you kinda keep an eye out for him?”

“Maybe he got lucky and picked up a john,” Jonas commented and Michael shook his head.

“He called me around three today to say that he had to meet an ‘acquaintance’; the dumb shit calls his fucking johns acquaintances,” then turned back to what he was saying. “Well, he said that he would be meeting me tonight by seven here. It’s already after nine and now I am seriously worried, because this is so not like him. When he says he’s going to meet me somewhere, he's always there,” he said.

“Have you tried calling him again?” Andy asked, glancing at Michael’s face and noticing how much he meant it; he was worried.

“Duh, what do you take me for gay boy, stupid?” he asked sarcastically, causing a rise of anger in Andy.

“Hey, hey, he didn’t mean to imply that you were stupid, Michael, did you?” he said and Andy shrugged his shoulders, as if the jury was still out on that one.

“I just asked, Michael, I wasn’t implying anything about your mentality level, although I seriously doubt that there’s much up there,” Andy snapped back.

“Well, maybe so, but what God may have left out above, he more than made up for below,” he retorted as he grabbed his crotch and shook it. Sorry, I forgot that you said that you are not like that,” he added, turned and resumed talking with Jonas. “I know it’s not all that late, but I’m worried about him, what with all the killings going on. And yes, I fucking called him; several times I’ve called his house but got no answer,” he tossed back at Andy.

“We’ll keep a look out for him. So tell me — did Danny say where he was supposed to meet this guy?”

“Not really; all he said was that he was sick and tired of this dude fucking him and never paying,” Michael explained and he noticed that Andy had given him a raised brow. “Before you go getting your knickers in a knot, there are certain men that even I don’t charge,” he told him. “Now you, rookie, I’d fuck you every which way from Sunday,” he said, which caused Andy to blush.

Jonas noticed how uncomfortable that Michael had made Andy, so he decided it was time to move on.

“I’ll bet you that any moment; Danny will come walking up with some kind of story.”

“I sure hope so,” he paused when he saw the car from earlier drive by. He nodded to the driver as he passed. “Well, I gotta go; I have a business arrangement to handle. Thanks for keeping an eye out for Danny.”

Andy had moved away from the car and had grabbed the handle when suddenly, Michael was there, whispering in his ear.

“Any time you want to hook up, handsome, you just give me a call,” he whispered and stuffed a business card into Andy’s shirt pocket.

Michael abruptly stood and walked down the street, toward the car that had pulled to the curb. He looked back at a stunned Andy, smiled and got into the car.

“What do you think; could this Danny kid really be missing or just busy with some john, Jonas?” Andy asked as they resumed their rounds and he pulled the card from his shirt pocket.

“What’s that,” Jonas inquired.

“A business card that Michael stuffed in my shirt,” he confessed as he looked down at it.

Michael’s Escorts, it read and had a telephone number below the name, 555-739-1002, he stuffed the card back in his shirt.

“So, what do you think? Missing or too busy having sex with some dude,” he inquired again.

“Maybe, but I do know Danny; he’s a good looking boy, so young looking that guys pick him up because he doesn’t look more than twelve.”

“Really, just how old is he,” Andy inquired.

“Eighteen just like Michael,” he told him as he turned south on Main Street and slowly drove down the street.”

“Damn, at eighteen I was playing football in college,” Andy commented.

“Not these boys, they are either from an abusive home or have parents that just don’t give a shit if they live or die. It’s sad really, but such is life, I guess.”

“So tell me, Jonas, what’s Michael’s story?” Andy asked.

“It’s your typical street kid story, where his stepdad was sexually abusing him since he was seven. At sixteen, he finally turned the guy in to social services through a school counselor and once his mother heard about his arrest, she tossed Michael’s ass out on the street, accusing him of lying.”

“Didn’t he have any relatives who could take him in?” Andy asked.

“Not really, and if he did have any, they weren’t someone that he cared to live with. And that is when he met Danny Alvatar, who was street wise and took Michael under his wings, so to speak.”

“So it was this Danny kid that made Michael a hustler?”

“No one makes Michael do squat; he’s definitely his own man. What he did was start out shadowing Danny, like some kind of bodyguard. You see, Danny not only looked like a twelve year old, he was small like one, also, and often got robbed, raped, or just beaten up by guys that hated gays.”

“So tell me, when did Michael move from being a bodyguard to hustling?” he asked.

“Last year when Danny got shot in a drive by,” he told him. “With Danny as their only source of income, Michael simply took over and began working the same streets that Danny had been working. That first night, Michael earned almost as much as Danny had in a week.”

Andy grew quiet for a long while, as did Jonas, as they cruised along State Street before taking a left onto Columbus Avenue.

“Ah, Jonas, have you been involved with Michael?” Andy finally asked, already figuring out that Jonas was gay, or at the least, bisexual. “I ask because you two seem quite comfortable together, like you and he have a history,” he added.

Jonas looked over at him and then returned his eyes to the road without answering him. Andy was wondering if no answer was the same as yes. They drove on for five more minutes, pulled the cruiser into a parking lot that bordered Riverfront Park and parked it.

“Come on; let's take a walk so we can talk — man to man and not as cops — but strictly off the record,” Jonas told him and got out of the cruiser before Andy could question him further.

They ducked under the locked gate and into the dimly lit park, pausing while Jonas determined which way to go. Finally, Jonas decided to go south on the bike path that ran parallel to the river.

The bike path was a narrow paved path that began at the Connecticut boarder with Massachusetts and ran north to Northampton, where it continued on eastward. Most of the river was hidden, from those that used the path for biking, by thick shrubs and trees, making it useful for those that wanted to hook up and not be seen.

“To answer your questions, and this had better stay between us, got it?” he adamantly asked, and Andy nodded his agreement. “I’m a closet gay, also … like you,” he paused to see if Andy would deny it and when he didn’t, he continued on. “Michael and I have never hooked up, as you kids say. I would have to pay for it, just like any other john. You see, Andy, where Danny sucked and fucked with anyone willing to pay for his services, Michael’s a discriminate whore. He hates guys that don’t take care of themselves,” he said.

“But he’s a street hustler; can he afford to be so discriminate?”

“Well you’ve seen him, what do you think? He knows very well that he’s a Greek God amongst his fellow hustlers. And add to it that he has a ten inch fat cock, so yes, he definitely can afford to be discriminate.” He stopped walking and turned to face him. “Now you — Michael meant it when he gave you his card. There are only a select few that he’s given them to.”

Andy remained silent for a long moment as he looked around the area, and then turned back to face Jonas, placing his hand on Jonas’ arm.

“Seeing how you have been so upfront and open with me, maybe I should be as well. Yes, Jonas, I’m gay and still in the closet, but only because I’ve never had a reason to come out. If I find that special someone, I won’t hesitate to come out.” He, too, stopped walking and looked over at Jonas.

“Is there such a thing — that special someone?” Jonas asked.

“I have this guy whom I've loved for what seems like forever, but he doesn’t know it, and he’s not ever going to either.” Again he took a moment before his said more. “And by the way, I had already figured out that you were gay, because of how you undressed me with your eyes in the locker room. Like Michael, I, too, have excellent gaydar.”

“Oh! You noticed that, huh, how I was perving over you?” Jonas asked, embarrassed to have been caught ogling Andy. “I do have to tell you though, you have one hot body,” he said with a seductive smile, and stopped, resting his hands on Andy’s shoulders and softly kneading them. “You know Andy, I have a feeling that you and I are going to get along just fine,” he said as he slowly pulled Andy to him, as if about to kiss him.

Andy quickly pulled away and turned. “Please don't; I’d like to keep our partnership purely platonic. I don’t want hard feelings to come between us because things get weird and all,” Andy said, completely turned off by Jonas’ advances.

“I think I can handle anything that might pop up, stud,” Jonas said with a smile as he lowered his hand to Andy’s crotch.

“I said no, you are not my type, Jonas,” Andy quickly snapped at him, causing Jonas to give him a hard look. “I’m waiting for that special someone and I am not interested in a one-night stand,” he paused, noticing how rejected Jonas looked. “Just for now, let's see how we get on together, and who knows, maybe someday…” Andy let it drop, not wanting to say that hell would freeze over before he was so desperate that he found Jonas, appealing.

Just as quick as the look was there, it was gone and smile crossed Jonas’ face as they resumed their walk along the river, and causing Jonas to be all business.

“I don’t mind waiting,” he said.

As they walked, it hit Andy where they were, not so much where they were, but what the park was infamous for.

“This is where they found the victims of the Riverfront Strangler,” Jonas stated, as if reading Andy’s mind.

“Yes, and that’s why the killer was dubbed the Riverfront Strangler.” Jonas said and nodded his affirmation.

“Why haven’t they tried someone undercover to attract this guy?” Andy asked.

“Oh, they have, several times, and for weeks on end, but whoever this guy is, he seems to know the plant is an undercover cop,” again he had grown quiet.

“What? What aren’t you telling me, Jonas?” Andy asked.

“It’s about Danny, he was who the task force has been using undercover.”

“A street hustler is being used for police stings?” he asked, shocked by the revelation and Jonas nodded.

“Like I told you before, he looks twelve and your so-called uncle, Thomas Sullivan, knew Danny personally and after training him, he was deputized, so to speak, and used to lure out the killer.”

‘Ok gaydar, why didn’t you pick up on Sully’s sexuality,’ he mentally asked, shocked to hear that Thom was gay. ‘I wonder if dad ever knew about this,’ he further asked himself.

“Like I said, they tried to lure him out, but it was unsuccessful.”

“Then that would tell me that he’s either a cop or he has a connection on the inside who is telling him about the sting.”

“Really, don’t you think that the top brass and task force has already considered that?” Jonas said and paused. “That’s why the task force is made up of officers from the Boston area,” he said, grabbing Andy’s arm when he noticed a bare foot protruding from a thicket.

“What?” Andy began, and as he followed Jonas’ line of vision, he, too, saw the foot.

“Shhhhhh, we need to proceed quietly,” Jonas whispered as they moved stealthily towards the bushes, flashlights and weapons in hand.

Both men already had their flashlights shining before them and weapons aimed straight forward. When they were a few feet from the foot, their lights illuminating it, the foot never moved. Upon entering the bushes, they found the body of yet another dead boy. He had the killer’s trademark tie around his neck and his clothes were strewn around him, and his eyes bulging.

“I’ll call it in,” Andy said as Jonas knelt down, praying that he would find a pulse.

He did not find one and cursed as he turned the boy’s head, revealing the fact that this kid was Danny. Andy could tell by the look on Jonas’ face, that he knew the kid.

“It’s that Danny kid, isn’t it,” Andy asked, noticing how the kid looked twelve and not eighteen.  “I’ve called it in and help is on the way.”

Jonas simply nodded, stood and pulled Andy back out to the bike path.

“Go back to the gate and watch for backup. Once they arrive, send them down to me and keep any onlookers out,” Andy nodded. 

To be continued...

Posted: 11/22/13