It was Friday afternoon, 16:00. Or, if you prefer, 4 o'clock pm for those who are not familiar with military time, which is what we use in law enforcement. Things around any government office seem to be fairly calm at that time of the day on a Friday and our offices at the Mason County Sheriff's Department were no exception.
Shift change had come and gone at 3 pm and most of the staff who worked regular office hours had bugged out early, burning up a little unused comp time to do so. My Captain and Chief Deputy, Benito "Ben" Villanueva had left at noon that day so he could take his family on a mini-vacation to the Twin Cities for the weekend.
As for me, I was anxiously awaiting the return of my day shift Lieutenant, Deputy Christopher Hayes to return from an important assignment that I had given him earlier in the week.
My name is Sean Patrick Quinn, Jr. But everyone calls me Pat. I am the newly-elected and sworn Sheriff of Mason County. This particular day ended my first official week of office since I was sworn in last Monday morning. I had given Chris Hayes the assignment just after my swearing in ceremony and initially planned to have him execute that assignment later that day. But I had a change of heart and decided to have him wait until this afternoon to carry it out.
Part of the duties of Lieutenants is to serve warrants, notices and official papers to individuals when requested to do so. It costs members of the general public $80 to have the Sheriff's Office serve official papers. For me, it was money well spent. And so, I had given my good Lieutenant the task of serving my soon-to-be-ex-wife, Clarissa, with divorce papers this afternoon. Hence, I was sitting in my office eagerly awaiting his arrival to see how it went.
At approximately 16:03 a very pissed off Lieutenant Chris Hayes blew into my office.
"The next time you decide to get divorced, Pat, you can serve the bitch those goddamned papers yourself!"
"I take it the process serving didn't go so well?" I chuckled.
"Look at me, Pat," Chris said, gesturing to the right side of his face. The entire cheek and right ear were beat red. "That stupid bitch slapped me right across the face!"
"She WHAT?" I couldn't believe what I just heard.
"I didn't stutter. I served her the damned papers and she fucking slapped me right across the face!"
"Oh, my God!" I burst out laughing. "That is the most fantastic thing I have ever heard! Please, for the love of God, tell me you are not joking!"
"Hell no, I'm not joking," he said, taking a seat in front of my desk. "She came to the door and I politely asked her if she was Clarissa Marie Quinn. She said yes. I said, 'Clarissa Marie Quinn, you have been served'. She totally freaked the fuck out, got into a big argument with me, started bawling her damned head off and finished it off with a fucking haymaker right across my right cheek and ear. You know how damned bad it hurts to get slapped on the fucking ear, Pat? It hurts like a bitch! Even when it's from a woman, for Christ's sake!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I said, trying to stop myself from laughing. "I'm not laughing about you getting slapped. I'm laughing at that stupid twat for losing her cool like that." Then, the ultimate thought occurred to me. "Oh, my God! Please, please, please, for the love of God, tell me that you were wearing your lapel camera when all of this was going on! Please tell me you were smart enough to have it on when all of this went down!"
"What? The lapel cam? Of course, I had it on! How stupid do y-...ohhhhh, riiiiiight! I get it!" Now Chris understood.
This past Summer and Fall I had basically served as interim Sheriff while my predecessor, William "Bud" Roberts, was a lame duck and absentee Sheriff. So, not only was I running a campaign to succeed Bud as Sheriff, but I was also running the day-to-day operations of the entire department. One of the best moves I made was using some seized and forfeited narcotics money to purchase Wolfcam body cameras for every Deputy in the department. The cameras were attached to the shoulder lapels of the uniform and provided high definition 1080p resolution video and crystal clear audio that recorded any type of event the deputy might encounter.
The video was recorded via a blue tooth feed to the onboard video recorder that also recorded video and audio from the deputy's cruiser's dash camera. Every department that has implemented the use of these cameras has seen a massive drop in the number of complaints filed by citizens of the public who try to accuse us of harassment or excessive use of force. Actually, the complaints were still filed but usually withdrawn once the perps or their families saw the video of the event.
The cameras were only about half the size of the palm of your hand. My deputies initially had mixed emotions about the cameras. On the one hand, they kind of felt like Big Brother was keeping an eye on them. But already the video had corroborated no less than six of my deputies' accounts of various incidents that had resulted in complaints from citizens. All six complaints were withdrawn when the parties (and their attorneys, of course) had a chance to see the video.
I was absolutely giddy as I couldn't wait to see the video. Hopefully, it would give me all the evidence and momentum I needed to implement my plans to divorce my cheating wife and dictate the divorce on MY terms.
Chris retrieved the video data from his cruiser and downloaded it onto my laptop. The video started with Chris casually walking toward the steps leading up to the front porch of my farmhouse. He rang the doorbell twice before Clarissa finally appeared. When she did, you could clearly see the shocked look on her face at seeing a Deputy at her door.
"Yes? May I help you?" she asked.
"Are you Clarissa Marie Quinn?" Chris asked.
"Oh, come on. You know I am. What is this about?"
"Ma'am, I'm Deputy Lieutenant Chris Hayes," he said, handing her the manila envelope. "Mrs. Quinn, you have been officially served."
"What? Are you fucking kidding me?"
"No, ma'am. You have been served."
"Oh, my God! I can't believe this! I cannot believe that gutless son-of-a-bitch would send one of his fucking deputies to do this!"
"Good afternoon, ma'am," Chris said, turning and walking back to his cruiser.
"Hey, Dammit!" Clarissa proceeded to half-shove half-punch Chris in the back. "I'm not finished with you! You tell that bastard that he better be home in time for dinner! I do not accept this! Tell him to get his ass home so we can talk this over!"
"Ma'am, you need to calm down. I will not tolerate you touching me in an aggressive manner." Chris was trying very hard to keep his cool.
"Or what? What the fuck are you going to do about it? You're just a peon deputy! You're nobody!"
"Ma'am, I'm warning you. You need to step back and calm down."
"Oh, now YOU'RE trying to tell me what to do? You don't tell me to do a damned thing! I'm STILL the wife of the Sheriff, you prick!" She proceeded to walk towards him waving the manila envelope at him as though she was threatening to hit him with it. "You tell Patrick that he better have his ass home by six o'clock! He better not be going to his little whore's house on the north side!"
"Ma'am, calm down NOW!" Chris reached forward and put his hand on her shoulder to get her to stop approaching him. Instead of calming her, it sent Clarissa into full nuclear-meltdown-mode.
"Get your fucking hands off me, you prick!" she screamed, batting his hand away. "You don't ever fucking touch me!"
And with that...WHACK! Clarissa slapped poor Chris right across the right side of his face.
"And tell that fucking jerk to get his ass home right fucking now!" she screamed, turning and stomping back towards into the house.
"Oh, my God! That was fucking awesome!" I said, bursting in to hysterical laughter again. "But Jesus, Chris! Why didn't you arrest her right on the spot?"
"Truthfully," Chris said, "I was too damned stunned to know what to do. I wasn't sure if I should haul her off in cuffs or just let you deal with the dumb skank. So I came back here and decided to dump the ball in your lap."
"Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Absolutely not," I chided. "You're gonna go back out there and arrest her dumb ass for assaulting a law enforcement officer, that's what you're gonna do."
"Are you fucking kidding me, Pat? You're seriously gonna plop me in the middle of this shit?"
"Dude, you're already neck deep in it. Besides, wouldn't you like a little payback? Don't you think it would feel great to be the one to haul her off to jail? Book her in? Take her mug shot? In other words, to humiliate the living shit out of her for slapping you across the face?"
Chris thought for a moment and sighed. "You do make an appealing argument, I'll give you that. But I'm not fucking going alone. If she pisses me off any more than she already has, I'm liable to taze the living shit out of her and probably electrocute her. I can't help but think that would be something of a black mark on my stellar law enforcement record if I fried the wife of a sitting sheriff. Uh, Pat? You do realize this is probably going to be in the newspaper and shit, right?"
"Don't worry about that. I'll handle that."
"And she's not gonna be able to stay here, ya know. Our jail's full. She's gonna have to go to Choctaw County tonight and that's a two-hour van ride."
"Not our problem. She made the bed, in more ways than one. And now she gets to lie in it."
"So, you sending someone with me or what?" Chris asked.
"Who's the Lieutenant on duty right now?" I asked.
"Angel Ryerson."
"Perfect. Have Angel and one of her deputies meet up with you. Make a nice little show of force out of it."
"Isn't this going to freak out your kids, though, Pat?"
"Nah. They're spending the weekend with the youth group from Saint Matt's. They're headed over to the Twin Cities to stay at a hotel with an indoor water park and mess around over at the Mall of America. Probably spend most of their weekend in the pool or over at Camp Snoopy."
"I thought they call it Nickelodeon something-or-other now," Chris said, grabbing his hat.
"Yeah, I think you're right. But everybody I know still calls the place Camp Snoopy."
"Alright, Pat. I guess it's time to go arrest your stupid wife."
"Good luck! Call me when you're done."
*******
Needless to say, Clarissa's arrest did not go well - at least not for Clarissa, anyway. She threw such a fit that she damned near got herself an additional charge of resisting arrest. The video would show Lieutenant Angel Ryerson, who is a pint-sized dynamo at only 5 feet 3 inches tall, literally throwing Clarissa down on our front porch while another deputy, Brad Lowe, slapped the cuffs on her and read Clarissa her rights. Clarissa was hysterically crying and shouting at Brad, Angel and Chris the entire time and threatening to sue them for false arrest, excessive force and anything else she could think of.
But it was caught on video in all its 1080p glory and perfect audio that caught every swear word, sneeze and sniffle. Add in the video of her getting served my papers, for good measure, and there wasn't a judge anywhere who would determine that the three Deputies handled themselves with anything but the utmost professionalism the entire time.
By 18:30, Clarissa was photographed, booked, fingerprinted and processed into the Mason County jail. By 19:00 she was dressed in a set of red and white striped prison clothes with a pair of matching red croc shoes. She was crying hysterically as she was led to the van that would transport her nearly two hours south to the Choctaw County jail that is located just outside the town of Cherokee Flats.
The Choctaw County jail is capable of holding 240 prisoners, while our own jail could only hold a maximum of 40, and a full house meant our jail was literally busting at the seams. It was a situation I was bound and determined to correct as Sheriff and one of my top priorities.
As there is no magistrate judge working on the weekend, except in cases to authorize emergency warrants, Clarissa would now have the better part of the next 72 hours to sit and think about what she had done.
A brief phone call to my counterpart in Choctaw County, Sheriff Garrett Meyers, ensured that Clarissa would have a prison cell all her own and away from any other inmates who might try to harm her while she was there. Sheriff Meyers would also make sure that his correctional officers would keep a very close eye on Clarissa and maintain strict confidence. She would be processed into their jail under an alias so no one would know she was there or who she was.
Chris Hayes sent me a picture message on my smart phone of Clarissa's booking photo. It was pathetic in every way imaginable. She was still a very pretty woman in all physical respects. But the photo was not of a young, vibrant or confident woman. It was a photo of a woman who had hit rock bottom and was now beginning to truly understand the consequences of her actions over the past two-plus years. Her eyes carried the terror and fears of all humanity and her face carried the expression of the hopeless and destitute.
In reality, her face reminded me of so many of the mug shots of the millions of women and men who had been processed into the thousands of jails across our country throughout history. Clarissa never wore the look of a criminal a day in her life but I couldn't help but notice how the booking photo instantly branded her with the image of a common crook. Ironically, the photo, in all its bleakness, also came to match the image in my mind of the woman that Clarissa had become ever since the start of her affair with Bud Roberts. It's funny how a simple photo can remind us that the line between the cream of society and the scourge of society is a thin one, indeed.
I had been planning to spend most of the weekend with my new fiancée, Shannon Sullivan and her amazing daughter Bridget. Following the incident with Clarissa's arrest, I had to stop out at the acreage to feed the horses and take care of a few other odds and ends. I didn't end up getting to Shannon's until shortly after 19:30, about the same time that Chris Hayes texted me Clarissa's booking photo.
I let myself in the front door of Shannon's small but cozy home and was greeted with the smell of a home cooked meal that reminded me instantly of so many meals made by my dear grandmother. Shannon and Bridget had just arrived home shortly before I did as Shannon's nursing shift in the ICU at Holy Family Medical Center didn't end until 19:00, after which she had to pick up Bridget from a friend's house where she went after school on the days Shannon had to work.
"Patrick!" shouted Bridget as she sprinted towards me from the kitchen.
"Hey, Bridget," I said, scooping her up for a big hug. "How are my two favorite girls in the whole wide world?"
"Great! I've been waiting all day to see you, Patrick. Wanna see my bug collection?"
"I would love to, sweetheart, but why are you collecting bugs in the middle of winter?"
"Me and mom caught the bugs last fall, silly!"
"Her teacher kept all the kids' bugs on display and finally sent them home today," Shannon explained as she moved in for a kiss. Her voice softened to a sultry tone as she smiled and said, "How are you, handsome?"
"Much better now," I said after the mouthwatering kiss.
"Bad day at work?"
"I'll explain after supper."
"Okay," she said, with a look of concern.
Bridget spent the next 20 minutes telling me all about her bug collection and her day in school, right up until Shannon put a heaping plate of meatballs and mashed potatoes on the table. I couldn't believe she could whip up such a comforting meal in such short order.
Turns out that Shannon likes to make five or six full meals on the weekend and then put them in the freezer so all she has to do is take them out and throw them in the oven to warm up. I could only hope to make the Sheriff's office run as efficiently as Shannon ran her household. It only reaffirmed that I had, indeed, picked a winner.
After supper, I helped Shannon and Bridget clear the table and did the majority of the dishes, which was the least I could do after a great meal. We played a board game, Bonkers, which Bridget absolutely loves. Then it was time for Bridget to head to bed and I got to read her a story. Tonight, it was "The Lorax" by Dr. Seuss.
With Bridget snuggled into bed, I met Shannon back out in the living room, where she was changed into pajama pants and a Minnesota State sweat shirt and sipping on a glass of juice.
"No wine, tonight?" I asked.
"Mmm. Not tonight, love. I have to work tomorrow and I promised Mindy Sutherland that I would be in for her by six. Mom's coming over early to pick up the munchkin and take her out to the ranch for the day."
"I see. I'm sure she'll have a blast."
"You're more than welcome to help yourself to a glass, though."
"I don't mind if I do," I said, heading to the kitchen and pouring myself a large glass of chardonnay. I'm not enough of a wine connoisseur to know which wine is which and when you're supposed to drink it - whether it is before, during or after a meal. But the peach chardonnay Shannon had was good, had alcohol in it and would suffice just fine for my simple tastes. I sat down next to Shannon on the couch and let out a long sigh, finally letting all the stress of the day and my first week as Sheriff off my shoulders.
"That was the sigh of a man who had a rough day. I thought everything was going pretty well so far."
"It is, for the most part," I said as I took a long sip of wine. "This afternoon changed things a bit, however."
"How so?"
I stared into Shannon's beautiful eyes and said, "I had Chris Hayes serve the papers to Clarissa this afternoon."
Shannon tensed up and became very apprehensive. "Oh, my God. It finally happened. You're really getting a divorce?" She grasped my left hand and I could feel her trembling. "This is really happening! We're really going to be together!" Tears started forming in her eyes and one streaked down her right cheek.
"Yes, we are, babe," I said, squeezing her hand tightly.
"How did she take it?"
I sighed deeply and closed my eyes. "It was pretty much a train wreck."
"How so? What happened?"
"You're not gonna believe me if I tell you."
"Sean Patrick Quinn! Don't do that to me. You can't start a story like this and not finish it. That's not fair," she admonished.
"Okay, okay. You're right. My day shift Lieutenant, Chris Hayes, was given the papers to serve this afternoon. When he gave her the papers, Clarissa totally freaked out on him - called him names, cursed at him, the whole nine yards. And then," I paused for dramatic effect, "she proceeded to slap him right across the face."
Shannon gasped in shock. "Oh, my God. You've got to be kidding."
"No, I'm not. You should have seen how upset Chris was when he came back. He was absolutely beside himself."
"What happened next?"
"Well, if you must know," I started.
"Oh, don't tease me! Tell me what happened!"
"I sent Chris back out to the house along with my evening shift Lieutenant, Angel Ryerson and another Deputy by the name of Brad Lowe. I had them arrest Clarissa for assaulting a law enforcement officer."
Another gasp of shock. "Oh, my God! Are you kidding me? What in the world are you thinking?"
"What do you mean 'what am I thinking'?" I said, somewhat taken aback. "Clarissa assaulted one of my deputies. She's no different than anybody else. It was a totally unprovoked attack."
"I know, but she's still your wife, technically. I mean, I know she's done all sorts of terrible things to you, but arresting her?"
"This isn't payback for all the shit that she, Bud and Marion Lawson did. This is a direct result of her getting pissed off to the point that she lashed out at one of my Deputies to try and get to me. Regardless of how she or I feel about everything, there is no excuse for her to hit one of my Deputies. I also have to let Chris and my Deputies know that I won't tolerate any type of abuse from them or upon them."
"I know, I know," Shannon said, calming somewhat. "The whole thing is just so shocking that I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around everything that is happening."
"I know, babe, I know," I said, squeezing her hand tightly.
"So, how do you think this is going to affect everything?"
"Well," I said, contemplating, "the only thing I can think of is maybe this will make Clarissa more accepting of the divorce. Maybe, with this little turn of events, I can use it to get her to see reason as far as an amicable divorce is concerned."
Again, a look of shock came over Shannon's face. "Oh, my gosh, Patrick - I don't mean to sound like an unsupportive bitch. But is that why you had her arrested? To strong arm her in your divorce?"
"No, no, no," I said, emphatically, shaking my head. "Absolutely not. You can get that thought out of your head right now. I would never do something like that. Doing that would bring me down to her and Bud Roberts' level. Make no mistake about it - Clarissa broke the law when she assaulted one of my Deputies. THAT is the reason that she is spending the weekend in jail. I'll do my very best to help her out of this situation in the best shape possible, legally, but I would be lying if I said that I wasn't going to use it to help you and me get our life started together on the best foot possible.
"And if that can happen by using her arrest to smooth out the path to an amicable divorce, then so be it. I promise you that I'm not going to use it to try and screw over Clarissa in the divorce itself, only to get her to see reason and not fight the inevitable and help make it as easy on the boys as possible."
"You're right, Patrick. I should know better. You're not that kind of person. I'm so sorry I brought it up." Shannon leaned over and kissed me as an apology.
"Don't be," I said. "I'm counting on you to help keep me grounded. This job obviously went to Bud Roberts' head and I'm counting on you to be my anchor, babe."
"Well," Shannon said, sporting a mischievous grin and setting my wine glass on the table, "I don't know much about dropping anchors. But I'd sure appreciate it if you took me to bed and, shall we say, docked your ship in my little port?"
I started chuckling uncontrollably. "What did you just say, love?"
"Dammit, Patrick! I'm trying to talk sexy and drop a little innuendo."
"Hey, I like some dirty talk as much as the next guy. But you're gonna have to do better than that!"
Shannon just stood up and proceeded to seductively strip off her Minnesota State Mankato sweatshirt and the skimpy little t-shirt that she had on underneath. She proceeded to kneel in front of me, spreading my legs. Then she cupped both of her stellar breasts in each hand, caressing the softly and gently tweaking her own nipples.
Shannon proceeded to lean in and rub her spectacular cleavage all the way from my crotch, up my abdomen and chest and then up my neck and face before ending the exotic maneuver with a kiss that could melt titanium.
"So, Sheriff," she cooed to me after another mind blowing kiss, "are you gonna fuck me or what?"
"Oh, you better fucking believe I am," I said as she led me by the hand towards her bedroom. The next two hours were nothing but a blur of AWESOME!
*******
Shannon left for work shortly after 5:15 the next morning but not before we had one more speedy and frantic round of sex. I couldn't help but think incredibly erotic thoughts of her as she didn't even bother to shower before leaving and wore the musk of Sheriff Pat Quinn on her all day as she worked. Of course, to any normal man you couldn't tell the difference. A bit of deodorant and a fresh change of clothes will do the trick for us, most of the time. And Shannon was a natural beauty for whom makeup wasn't a necessity anyway.
I ducked out of the house just after Shannon's mother, Suzanne, arrived to stay with Bridget until she got up out of bed. I returned to the farm to take care of some chores and plan out for what I was going to do the rest of the day.
My attorney in the divorce was a wildcat by the name of Danielle Nichols. She was by far and away the most feared divorce attorney in town and was almost certainly the one that Clarissa would have gone for if I hadn't gotten to Danielle first. I know this because Clarissa actually called Danielle shortly after I had already hired her as Clarissa wanted to have a lawyer ready just in case she couldn't talk me out of a divorce. All of that took place last Fall even before I had Clarissa served with the papers.
Danielle was in her office at Brown, Graham, Norris, Slater and Nichols even though the firm itself was closed for the weekend. I had figured a heads-up call to Danielle was in order, considering the events of the previous afternoon.
Much as you would expect, Danielle was absolutely foaming at the mouth over what she could do to Clarissa in divorce proceedings after she was stupid enough to slap one of my deputies. Looking into the eyes of Danielle Nichols, Esquire was almost like looking into the eyes of Satan himself. I could only be glad that she was on my side. Danielle was beautiful in a sultry and slutty way but also gave off the vibe of a Black Widow spider that would probably kill you and eat you once the copulating was over with.
But, nonetheless, I figured I'd probably have fucked her anyway, if I was still single, just because I'm kind of stupid like that and I tend to think with my dick more than I should.
I was about 15 minutes into our consultation when my cell phone rang. It was a number that I probably shouldn't have had in my phone but one that I had programmed in, nevertheless. The caller ID said, "Caroline Bennett".
"Hello Caroline," I said upon answering.
"Patrick! Thank God I was able to reach you. Can you please tell me what is going on with Clarissa? She called me this morning and told me she was in prison in Cherokee Flats and that you were responsible for putting her there."
"Excuse me," I said to Danielle, covering the phone with both hands. "I need to take this call. I'll be just a few minutes. I'm sorry."
"No. Don't be sorry," Danielle said. "Feel free to stay here. I'm gonna run to the break room and see if we have any coffee in this damned place."
Once Danielle had left the room I continued. "Well, Caroline, the truth is that Clarissa is, indeed, in prison down in Cherokee Flats. There was no room for additional prisoners here in Red River Falls so she was sent to another facility."
"My God, Patrick! What could she have done that justified you putting her in jail?"
"Caroline, at a risk to our very special friendship, let me be perfectly clear. I did NOT have Clarissa incarcerated out of any sort of malice. I followed the procedures of filing divorce papers and utilizing the Sheriff's department to do so. I paid the appropriate fee and everything, just like any normal citizen would. I did so to avoid what I felt would be a certain and ugly confrontation between Clarissa and I. Instead, Clarissa initiated an altercation with one of my Deputies during which she became aggressive, belligerent and slapped my Deputy in the face."
"No, no, no, Patrick. You're wrong. Clarissa can be hotheaded some times. Okay, maybe a lot of times. But my daughter would never willfully strike an officer of the law. I simply can't believe it. Your officer must be mistaken or blowing things way out of proportion."
"I hate to tell you this, Caroline," I said, sighing, "But the entire incident was caught on video."
"Cameras and pictures don't tell the whole story, Patrick."
"True, but in this instance it is pretty cut and dried. All of my Deputies now wear small cameras on their person that record everything in high definition. In this particular case, there might as well have been a TV camera crew there filming it because there isn't much of a difference. You'll understand if and when you see the video, Caroline."
I could hear Caroline sniffing and trying to stifle her own crying. "Please, Patrick. If our special friendship means anything to you, please promise me that you'll do what you can to help her. Please. For her sake and for the sake of my grandsons."
"Caroline," I said, "you have every assurance of mine that I will do what I can to help her. I promise you that. I'll be seeing her here shortly and I assure you that I will have her out on bail no later than the first thing Monday morning. And I also feel confident that this weekend will be the last time she sees the inside of a prison cell."
"Thank you, Patrick. That means so much to me."
"You're quite welcome, Caroline."
"Oh, and Patrick?"
"Yes, Caroline?"
She paused. "Never forget how much you mean to me, Patrick. I know there is a new love in your life. I can only hope and pray that she treats you the way I would treat you if you were mine...the way you deserve to be treated."
Now it was my turn to grope for something to say. "I appreciate that Caroline. And never forget how much you mean to me, either."
"Good bye, Patrick. We'll talk again soon."
"I'll look forward to it." And then she hung up.
It took me a few moments to collect myself after hanging up with Caroline. Even from a distance of several hundred miles away just the sound of her voice could conjure up the thoughts and images of some of the sultriest and most invigorating sexual experiences of my life. Even for a woman in her mid 50's Caroline Bennett was stunningly beautiful and possessed a body and sexuality that women half her age would die for. There was just something about her that would have a hold on me for the rest of my life.
It was a damned good thing I now had Shannon in my life. If I'm being perfectly honest, there aren't many other women in this world who could keep me from straying to spend time with Caroline if she wanted me. There's just something about women who are overtly sexual that appeals to me.
Caroline took advantage of me when I was doing my best not to let a several-hundred-pound metal hay feeder fall on her head when she unzipped my pants and sucked my cock to a mind-blowing orgasm literally within yards of my wife and kids who could have caught us at any moment. And then we had lunch afterwards with Caroline sitting at our kitchen table with a fairly large cum stain on her shirt - right in front of her own daughter!
Shannon, on the other hand, likes to finger her own pussy, coat it with her sweet juices and then stick those fingers in my mouth for me to lick off. What can I say? I'm a sucker for women who know what they want. My job is to protect and serve. And if serving means giving a woman what she wants in bed then I'll do my best to oblige.
I was thinking those thoughts just as Danielle came back into her office carrying two cups of fresh steaming coffee and set one down on her desk in front of me. I could easily see Danielle as having the potential to have her way with me, as well, or any other man for that matter. She was, as she put it, happily divorced. Danielle had previously been married to Carsten Brown who was the "Brown" of Brown, Graham, Norris, Slater and Nichols and who was, himself, previously happily married to another woman right up until Danielle joined the firm. Danielle was an associate attorney for the firm right up until Carsten Brown got divorced. Then she became a partner of the firm shortly after she became Carsten Brown's partner in the bedroom. The whole thing was scandalously delicious from a gossip's point of view, which just reinforces the old saying - "There's not much to see in a small town but what you hear sure makes up for it!"
"Now, then," Danielle said as she made herself comfortable again in her high backed chair. "Let's figure out how we're gonna crucify that bitchy wife of yours."
Danielle thought I was nuts for trying to work out an equitable divorce as she was fairly positive that she could use Clarissa's arrest to get me every last thing I could want by hanging the prospect of additional prison time for her. The truth was, all I wanted from Clarissa was a quick and easy divorce. I simply wanted to split what we had 50/50 and share custody of the boys. I wanted the boys to still have their primary residency with me out at the farm while Clarissa could enjoy liberal visitation with them after school and every other weekend as well as having them with her for a good chunk of the summer months.
Personally, I think Danielle just wanted to see Clarissa squirm like the proverbial worm on a hook. As for me, I was just determined to separate from her while keeping her honor intact, at least in the eyes of our sons. I hoped that would be incentive enough to take the fight out of her.
I left Danielle's office just after 9:00 and needed to pay a little visit to another attorney. I drove to the west side of town to a posh little neighborhood called Elk Run Heights. It was one of the newer housing developments in Red River Falls and was filled with McMansions of the movers and shakers of Red River Falls. Fox Run Golf and Country Club was incorporated within the development and nearly every house had course front property. Most of the residents here could either swim in their pools and then sun bathe in one of the sand traps and completely eliminate the need to ever go to the beach - at least in summer time.
5945 Elk Run Drive was the residence of one Marion Lawson, Esquire - otherwise known as the Mason County Attorney. Needless to say, Marion was not expecting me today. Being the middle of January, it wasn't like I was interrupting his foursome. Marion, it turned out, preferred threesomes - especially with my wife and Bud Roberts. He also had a penchant for underage Asian girls but that was a secret between just me and Marion, although it could easily be revealed to the world if he ever pissed me off.
I walked up to the front of the stately brick home and rang the door bell. Marion himself appeared within a few moments.
"Jesus," he said upon seeing me. "And here my weekend was going so well."
"Nice to see you, too, Marion." Lawson just stood there with the door ajar. "Well? Aren't you going to invite me in?
"Not unless I have a good reason," he grunted.
"Oh, I have business to discuss, I assure you."
"Does this pertain to me in any way, shape or form?"
"Marion," I said, with a bit of an edge in my voice, "everything I do pertains to you in some way."
Marion just rolled his eyes and opened the door to allow me in.
"My study is inside and to the left. And take your damned shoes off so you don't fuck up my hardwood floors. We just had 'em stripped, stained and coated."
"Ooh, it's almost like we're gonna hang out for a while."
"Don't get any ideas. You're not staying long enough to watch the playoffs and every beer in the fridge has the name Marion on it, not Patrick."
"Doesn't matter. The Vikes got eliminated a long time ago."
"Shit, Pat, the Vikes got eliminated after the preseason, for God's sake," he grumbled. "How can you stand to watch those losers?"
"Hey, hey, hey, now. To hate my team is to hate me," I replied.
"Do you really want me to fucking reply to that, Quinn?"
"Probably not," I agreed.
We entered the house and headed for Marion's office when his wife Patti Jean spotted us from the massive open kitchen. Whatever she was cooking smelled fantastic and my grumbling stomach reminded me I hadn't eaten yet.
"Oh, hello Sheriff! What brings you by today?" Patti called from the kitchen.
I couldn't answer before Marion interrupted, "He's not staying long and we'll be in the study. We've got some important business so make sure we're not disturbed." Patti Jean looked absolutely crestfallen at her husband's rebuke.
But she brightened up again when I said, "Lovely to see you again, Patti. Whatever you're cooking smells absolutely delicious, hon!"
"Thanks, Patrick! We'd love to have you join us for dinner some time!"
"And I'd love to join you some time. I promise to bring my fiancé, plenty of bad jokes and a big appetite!"
Patti Jean started laughing and Marion practically yanked me into his office and shut the door behind us and locked it.
"You're not coming over for dinner, by the way," he chided as he directed me to a chair in front of his ostentatiously huge oak desk.
"But Patti Jean just invited me, Marion. It'd be rude to turn her down."
Marion gave me an exasperated look as he sat in an equally gaudy chair. "Did you come over here just to piss me off, Pat? Or did you actually have something you wanted to talk to me about?"
"Tell Patti she doesn't have to go over board. I'm a simple man with simple tastes."
"Dammit, Sheriff!"
"Meat loaf, mashed potatoes and gravy. Comfort food always sits well with me, especially in winter time. I bet Patti could work magic with that! Her cooking definitely seems to help you keep your girlish figure, Marion," I chuckled.
"I'm warning you, Pat!"
"My deputies arrested my wife last evening."
Lawson's jaw damned near dropped to the floor. "WHAT? Are you fucking kidding me?"
"No, I'm not. She was served with divorce papers yesterday and she assaulted one of my Deputies."
Lawson gawked at me wide-eyed. "Ya know? Phil Robertson said it best. You're a special kind of stupid, aren't you, Pat. I mean, my God! Who the fuck did the people of this county elect Sheriff?
"They elected someone who doesn't feel that they or their families are above the law."
"Bullshit. What'd she do? Bump into him as he was walking by?"
"Nope. She got pissed off, took it out on my Deputy and slapped him right across his face. We've got it all on video."
"Who?"
"Who what?" I asked, confused.
"Who was the Deputy that served her?"
"Lieutenant Chris Hayes."
"Oh, Jesus," Lawson said making a sour face, shaking his head. "Figures. If that fucking idiot isn't doing something right this minute that deserves a slap in the face, then the smart money says it's just a matter of time before he does. Probably getting slapped right now by that tatted up druggie whore of a girlfriend of his."
I shifted in my seat as I prepared to defend Chris and Tonya. "I assure you that Lieutenant Hayes is not an idiot and his new WIFE isn't either. In fact, she's probably got the highest IQ in Mason County. And the only thing she has ever had on her record is a simple misdemeanor possession charge from the state of Massachusetts."
"Are you fucking kidding me? You let your goddamned deputy marry that bitch? I happen to know for a fact that she sells a shitload of pot out of that fucking store of hers on the north end. Fixing and selling computers and old records doesn't pay the fucking bills for that place, you know."
"Actually, it does, Marion," I corrected. "It is true that Tonya still fixes, upgrades and sells computers and old records. But she has also taken on several contracts around town, under my recommendation, that has her working as a network administrator and analyst for a number of businesses. Every single client of hers absolutely raves about her work. She pretty much puts every other IT guy in Red River Falls to shame."
"I swear to God, Pat, if I find out you're covering up any illegal activity for her I'll -"
"You'll what?" I interrupted. "Don't forget that I happen to know what kind of shit you've got on your home computer, Marion," I scolded, reminding him of the kiddie porn he still possessed.
Marion stopped dead in his tracks. After a few tense moments he said, "You didn't come here to talk about Hayes and his floozy. What is it that you want, Pat?"
"As I told you, my wife is in prison for assaulting Hayes. I want you to hold off on filing any charges until I tell you, too."
"That's my prerogative, Pat. I make that call, not you."
"No, you don't. Need I remind you of your nasty little hobby?"
"Shit, Pat," Lawson groaned. "You know, I AM the goddamned county attorney. At some point you're going to have to drop that shit and let me do my fucking job."
"I understand that. But not yet. Just hold off on the charges until I tell you to. If anybody asks you about it, which they shouldn't, just tell them that there is an ongoing investigation and you'll make a statement to the public when it is completed."
"How the hell are you going to keep people from finding out about her?"
"She was processed into the Choctaw County jail under an alias. Garrett Meyers is a friend. He's keeping an eye on her."
"Meyers? The Choctaw County Sheriff? Didn't that fucking old fossil run over a dead body a few months ago?"
"Uh...yes. Yes he did," I answered sheepishly. "However, in his defense, it was a wreck in the far west part of his county during a really shitty snow storm and the body was almost completely obscured by a snow drift. The State Patrol should have marked where the body was."
"Yeah, I'll bet that was really comforting to the family. I'm sure the poor undertaker that had to take care of the body appreciated that, too. Tell me again, how far did he drag the body under his Tahoe before he realized what the fuck was going on?"
"Mmm. Somewhere between 20 and 25 feet. Look, we're getting sidetracked here. Are you gonna play ball with me on this or not?"
"Fine, fine," Lawson said, waving me off and rubbing his face. "I'll hold off filing any charges. In fact, I'll pretend that I don't know a damned thing about it until late Monday afternoon or until you decide you want charges pressed. I'm assuming you're doing all of this to manhandle Clarissa in the divorce?"
"No. Well...not exactly. Okay, I guess a little bit, but just to get her to agree to the divorce itself. The terms I am proposing, not that it's any of your damned business, but the terms I'm offering are pretty damned good. I'm not looking to screw her over. She's still my kids' mom."
"Pat," Lawson said. He paused for a few moments. "May I ask you something personal?"
"Gee, Marion. Are we about to have a bonding session?"
"Not hardly," he snickered.
"Bummer. Oh, well. Fire away," I said.
"What's gonna happen with Clarissa when this is all over with?"
My eyes narrows and my stomach tightened. "What do you mean?"
"Well," he started, "I mean, Clarissa is gonna obviously be single again. And I was, uh, sort of...maybe... wondering if you would have a problem with - "
"Don't even fucking think about it!" I growled.
"What's the problem, Pat? You're obviously not gonna be with her. You can plainly see that my marriage is in the toilet. I promise to treat your boys - "
I stood up, slammed both hands down on Lawson's desk, started him right in the eyes and growled, "My boys already have a Dad. And my fucking soon-to-be-ex-wife is off limits to you, Marion. Do you fucking understand? Do you?"
Lawson just sighed, put his hands up in surrender and said, "Fine. Have it your way. But if I help you with this, I'm gonna consider us even, Pat. I want you to get those damned pictures out of that file on my server and I want those damned hidden photos taken off the internet. Deal?"
"Let me explain something, Marion. You and Bud Roberts used to fuck my wife in your little threesomes. You had the audacity to even tell me about it and try to humiliate me over it. Guess what? You and I aren't even. Not by a long...fucking...shot! We're not going to be even for a very, very long time, if EVER!"
I stood and made my way to the doors to Marion's office and unlocked them. As I turned the handle to let myself out I looked at Marion one final time and said, "And those fucking pictures stay right where they are!"
*******
I spent the night out at the farm by myself instead of with Shannon, though I really wanted to stay with her. Who the hell wouldn't want to spend the night making love to that incredible woman and her amazing body? But I decided to spend it by myself and finalize some more details in the plans for my impending divorce.
I skipped Sunday Mass the next morning and by 9 o'clock was in my department-issued and aging 2010 Ford Expedition. I caught up with US Highway 120 and headed south towards Cherokee Flats. The drive was about two hours and was fairly sparsely populated along the way. The road itself was 65 miles an hour so I made good, steady time.
The Choctaw County Jail was located on the north end of Cherokee Flats. It was a newer facility that contained the jail, the Sheriff's offices and even had a courtroom that served as an auxiliary to the ones at the county courthouse.
The jail itself was fairly imposing and significantly larger than the one in Mason County, which was still perched atop the Mason County Courthouse. There was a fairly good-sized exercise yard that was encapsulated inside three separate rings of chain-linked fence that were each topped off with three rows of razor-sharp concertina wire. Woe to anyone who was ever dumb enough to try and climb over the top of that, let alone anyone ballsy enough to have to do it at least three times.
The Choctaw County Jail was different than the Mason County Jail in one other significant respect and that was the visitation room. Visitors were only allowed in both jails for the lower risk inmates. But whereas the visitors at the Mason County Jail could actually see an inmate face-to-face, visitors at the Choctaw County Jail utilized a video system that would only allow visitors to see inmates on a closed-circuit television screen.
The room for visitors was located completely opposite of the jail itself and visitors and inmates would never be closer than 300 feet to one another.
However, if you're a sitting Sheriff whose wife happens to be incarcerated and you happen to be friends with the Sheriff whose jail you're visiting, exceptions can be made.
"Hey, Pat!" Sheriff Garrett Meyers greeted me at his office. He's been the Sheriff of Choctaw County for nearly 20 years. Garrett is in his early 60's, has a full head of perfectly coiffed silver hair but is still in remarkable shape for his age. "How's the first week on the job going?"
"It's going pretty well, Garrett. At least it was until Friday."
"I'm sure. I want you to know that we've been keeping a close eye on her the entire time she's been here. Nobody knows she's in here, either. Nobody came looking for her or been asking about her. She only made one phone call so far and I believe that was to her mother."
"Yeah, I heard from her mother. She knows."
"If you'll follow me, Pat, we'll head right this way. Although normal visitation is done by video only, we have to allow attorneys the opportunity to meet in private with their clients. So we have a secure room down this hall that we'll have you meet your wife in."
"Thanks, Garrett. I really appreciate this."
"Happy to help, Pat. And, by all means, stay as long as you need to."
"Thanks again, Sheriff."
I was let into a small 8 X 8 room with a small metal table and two metal stools that were all securely fastened to the ground, ostensibly so they could not be thrown by inmates at their attorneys. The room was not wired for sound or with video so as to maintain attorney-client privilege. I had also secured my personal firearm prior to entering the jail, as well, and also padded down and electronically searched.
I was there about five minutes before the door opened. I stood up as Clarissa was brought into the room in full shackles, which included handcuffs, ankle cuffs and a chain that wrapped around her waist and secured her hands close to her body as well as linking to the ankle cuffs. The purpose was to make it difficult for inmates to attack the correctional officers as well as make it almost impossible to run.
The tall athletic African-American female correctional officer led Clarissa to the stool and side of the table opposite from where I had been sitting. Once seated, her ankle cuffs were secured to a hook on the floor and her handcuffs were secured to a hook on her side of the table, further restricting her movement.
Clarissa looked like hell and that was putting it mildly. Her eyes were puffy and blood shot and it was clear she had been crying non-stop since she got here. Her hair was tangled and matted and she was obviously in need of a shower. She wouldn't look at me as she did everything she could to fight and hold back more tears.
"How are you, Clarissa?" It was a stupid question but the only one I could come up with.
"How do you think?" she replied, barely whispering.
"I understand how you feel."
"No you don't," she said as she couldn't hold back the tears any longer. "How could you possibly understand? *sob* How could you do this to me, Patrick?"
I leaned in and said, "I didn't do this to you, Clarissa. You are here because you assaulted one of my deputies."
"I'm sorry!" she said, wailing and sobbing. "I only got upset because I thought he was there to tell me something bad happened to you!"
"That's not true, Clarissa, and you know it. You know exactly what the procedures are in the event of an officer down. Hell, you've been through it before, remember? You knew damned well that Chris Hayes wasn't there for that."
"I swear to God, Patrick! That is what I thought! I don't care what your deputy told you," she sobbed, still unable to look directly at me.
"No, Clarissa. You didn't. I have the whole thing on video."
"How could you possible see anything? His car was parked in the driveway, Patrick. It's my word against his."
"Clarissa, several months ago we purchased small cameras that the Deputies wear on their uniforms, just like their radios. The cameras saw and recorded the entire event. Chris Hayes approached you, he served you the papers, and then you followed him back towards his car. You deliberately pursued him and were belligerent and provoking him the entire time. He put his arm out to stop you from approaching him and then you proceeded to use your left hand and slap Chris on the right side of his face. I have the whole thing on my phone. See?"
I pulled out my smart phone, which Garrett had allowed me to bring in with me. I pulled up the video clip and started playing it. Clarissa initially refused to look at my phone, believing until the last possible second that there was no way the whole situation could have been caught on camera. But as soon as she heard the unmistakable and perfectly clear sound of her own voice, she stopped crying immediately and stared blankly at the video, too shocked to say anything.
When the video had finished playing Clarissa looked away from me again, only this time in shame.
"Patrick, what's going to happen to me?"
"Well," I said, tucking my phone back in my pocket, "that all depends on you. Right now you're looking at an assault charge, more specifically, assault of a peace officer. That is going to be an aggravated misdemeanor. You could, theoretically, be looking at two to five years in prison."
"Oh, my God," she whispered. "Please tell me you're going to help me, Patrick."
"I will help you, Clarissa. But you are also going to help me, as well."
"What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to sign the divorce papers. I want you to accept them, sign them and make this entire process as smooth and painless for us and for Nick and Jake as much as possible."
"That's what this is all about? You had me arrested so you could get what you want in the divorce? You son-of-a-bitch!" She burst into tears again and was seething, trying to compose herself and control her breathing.
"No, Clarissa. Make no mistake. That is NOT what got you thrown in jail. You could have easily accepted the papers and lost your cool with me when we spoke again. Instead, you chose to take a swan dive off the crazy board and landed yourself right in prison. Assaulting my Deputy got you here, not me. If you get one thing right in all of this, make sure you get THAT part straight!"
"Then how is helping you divorce me going to help me?"
"I'm going to help you get the charges either reduced so you only have to get sentenced to time served. Or, if I'm really lucky, I just might be able to talk Deputy Hayes into dropping the matter altogether. But I'm only going to intervene on your behalf if you agree to make our divorce as painless as possible. Do you agree to this, Clarissa?"
She looked up towards the ceiling in desperation. "What choice do I have?"
"Easy. You can either choose to help yourself or not."
"But I don't want a divorce, Patrick. How many times do I have to say it? I don't want a divorce. I don't want to split up our family. I want our family to stay together."
"Clarissa, do you remember what we talked about before we ever got married? Do you remember what we said would happen if either one of us ever cheated on the other?" Tears were now streaking down her face again as she closed her eyes, remembering our talk from long ago.
"We always said that cheating in our marriage was a deal breaker. You wouldn't put up with it from me and I wasn't going to put up with it from you. We always said that we could handle ANY situation other than infidelity."
"But I was wrong, Patrick. I think we can survive this if we just work on it. I know I want to work on it. I want to find a way for us to love each other again just like when we first fell in love. I want us to feel special again. I want to feel you love me and make love to me like we used to, Patrick."
"You know what, Clarissa? You know what I'm hearing an awful lot of? I'm hearing you say the word 'I' an awful lot. In other words, it is all about you. This whole sorry affair has been all about you. It is all about you and what you want.
"You know what I have yet to hear from you? I have yet to hear you say, 'I'm sorry, Patrick. Sorry for the hell I've put you through for these last two years. Sorry for the pain, heart ache and humiliation I've put you through'. I never heard that from you, Clarissa. And if you say it now, it won't mean anything because you'll only be saying it because you want to get out of here and you want to get out of a tough spot. There is no easy fix for this. There is no easy way out."
"But I really AM sorry, Patrick! I'm sorry that I haven't said it until now. But I know that the two of us are stronger than we think. I've seen an entirely new side of you, Patrick. I admit that I took you for granted but now I see how tough-as-nails you are. I've seen how hard you've fought back. And I know that you can fight that hard for our marriage if you really want to," she begged and pleaded.
"But I don't want to, Clarissa. I don't want to fight this battle anymore. I just want it to be over with. You have no idea what you've done to me. All I see when I look at you is something that used to belong to me but was taken from me.
"If we ever tried to make love, all I would do is wonder whether you were thinking of Bud Roberts or some other guy you were with and torture myself with thoughts of whether you were wishing you were with them instead of me. I would always wonder whether I was strong enough, sexy enough or a good enough lover to satisfy you. I would even wonder if you thought I was a good enough father to our boys. I can't go through that for the rest of my life, Clarissa. I just can't."
Clarissa sat there quietly sobbing. I hoped that it was because the realization of what she had done to me, our marriage and our family was finally setting in. But I also had no illusions that it could just as easily be weeping of remorse for the opportunities that she had that were lost.
"Please try, Patrick. I'm begging you."
"I can't Clarissa," I said, tears now forming in my own eyes and a lump growing in my throat. "There's too much there to overcome. I'll never, ever be able to get over what you and Bud Roberts did. I know myself well enough to know what I can handle and what I can't. You nearly cost me my family and my very freedom, Clarissa.
"There's no coming back from that. Just please sign the papers. Sign the papers and I'll do whatever I can to help you get out of this mess or at least make it less shitty than it is. If you ever really loved me or cared about me, please do this one thing for me. At the very least, you owe me that."
Clarissa just held her head in her hands and sobbed for nearly five minutes straight. In the end, she struggled to regain some shred of composure, wiped her tears as best she could and then accepted a pen from me with shackled hands and signed the divorce papers and agreed to all of my terms.
I would pay Clarissa half the equity of the farm and split all of our savings completely in half. I would continue to carry her on my insurance until she could find suitable employment that would provide her own insurance or for a period of one year, whichever came first.
I would help Clarissa find suitable housing that would be able to serve as a second residence for the boys as the farm would stay as their primary residence. I would also pay up to one year's rent for her to help her get on her feet and would also continue making payments on her Explorer until it was paid off. I would also pay for her cell phone for at least one year, as well.
My attorney Danielle Nichols thought I was nuts agreeing to those terms. In reality, it probably was. Hell, Clarissa's mother, Caroline, was now deeply involved with a man named Martin Belmond who was a multi-millionaire dozens of times over. I had no doubt that Clarissa's mother would do whatever was necessary to help her daughter. I did all of these things because I wanted to make sure that I treated Clarissa fairly and so she couldn't accuse me of trying to screw her over.
Using her time in prison as leverage might give some the impression that I was being an asshole. But if things had turned out differently and Clarissa and Bud Roberts had gotten their way, things would have been a hell of a lot worse for me in ways I can't even imagine. Bad shit happens to cops who go to prison.
I did have one little surprise for Clarissa, however. I did obtain a release order from the magistrate, Judge Hannah Bergen, granting Clarissa release on her own recognizance. It was highly unusual, especially since I had to call the judge and stop by her residence to get the paperwork signed. Even though Clarissa was being held in the Choctaw County jail, the case still originated in Mason County so we still had jurisdiction.
I'm sure there are those in the public who would raise seven different shades of holy hell over this, but I didn't really care at this point. The upside was that it would make Clarissa happy. The downside was the fact that I would now be forced to make the two hour drive home with Clarissa.
It took Sheriff Meyer's staff about 45 minutes to out process Clarissa from the Choctaw County jail. Part of that time was spent allowing Clarissa to have a private shower before being released. More time was spent signing paperwork and retrieving the few personal effects that she had. I brought a complete change of clothes for her and by one pm we were leaving Cherokee Flats and heading home.
We rode in total silence for nearly an hour before either of us said anything. Finally, I couldn't take any more.
"Are you hungry?" I asked.
Clarissa just kept staring out the passenger window and shook her head.
"Do you want to stop and grab something to drink at least?"
"I don't want a divorce, Patrick. I know I signed the papers, but I didn't want to."
I kept both hands on the wheel at 10 and 2 and gripped it in frustration. I sucked in a deep breath through my nose and exhaled slowly. "Clarissa, we have already been over this. It is a done deal as far as I'm concerned."
She wasn't actively crying but tears were streaming down her face again. "Well, if this is your way of torturing me, Patrick, it's working."
I couldn't stand it anymore. I hit the brakes hard without locking them up and pulled over to the side of the road and slammed the lever into "park".
"Torturing you, Clarissa? What about me? Huh? What about torturing me?"
"Is that what you think life would be like with me, Patrick? Torture?"
"Jesus, woman, you are really fucking dense! I'm not talking about spending my life with you. I'm talking about all the shit that would have happened to me if your little adventure with Bud Roberts had succeeded!"
"But it didn't happen, Patrick! Okay? Everything fell through with that! Maybe it fell through for a reason! Maybe we're supposed to stay together! At the very least, you need to learn to move on from it!"
"I can't, dammit!"
"For God's sake, Patrick! Why the hell not? Why can't we at least try to move on together? Why is divorce the only option?"
I looked away from her. She was so oblivious to her own deviousness and utter insanity that she now physically and emotionally repulsed me. I sat there for a few moments as I could see her giving me a pleading look from my peripheral vision. I did everything I could to look away.
It took all I had to not break down, to find some way to keep my cool and fight the urge to slam Clarissa's head into the dashboard over and over and over and over again until there was nothing left but her neck and a bloody stump where her stupid, thick melon used to be.
And then, I thought of Shannon and that familiar, serene wave of calm washed over my body and I once again found my center and the true purpose in my life. I closed my eyes and thought of her and imagined the feel of her body, the feminine strength of her embrace, the taste of her lips and the smell of her soaps, lotions and perfumes. It was then that I was calm enough to tell Clarissa what I had been trying to find the strength to tell her all along.
"I can't, Clarissa. There is no way for me to move on from this. To do that, Clarissa, I would have to go back to being the old me, the one who trusted you and loved you enough not to question whether you would ever cheat on me - the one who never questioned whether you loved me in return. What you did to me, Clarissa, absolutely changed me on a molecular level, if that's possible.
"Your affair and the plans you shared with Bud Roberts to absolutely crush and destroy me changed me into someone I never thought I could be. And that is both amazing and absolutely tragic at the same time. In order to save myself I had to learn to think just as evil as you and Bud. In order to save myself I had to learn to plot and connive and beg and borrow and steal to get what I needed in order to stay out of jail.
"I have broken laws I swore to uphold just to serve what I believed to be a larger purpose. I have ripped the threads of the law to keep the blanket of justice intact to safeguard an unknowing public from dangerous people who would otherwise have been free to roam the streets and countryside again because of what you and Bud Roberts tried to do to me.
"I have become what I despise and that is to be devious, manipulative, conniving, underhanded and whatever other adjectives and superlatives you can possibly think of to describe me.
"But I never did ANY of those things for myself. I did them for my boys. I did them for the public at large. I did them for you. And I even did them for Bud Roberts and Marion Lawson. I don't have blood on my hands, Clarissa, but I have a helluva lot of dirt on them now. I'm not the Dudley Doright that I used to be. But the positive of it is, Clarissa, is that your and Bud's actions have made me a survivor.
"I can honestly say that there is NOTHING that I wouldn't do to protect my family, my friends and the people of Mason County from harm. I have stood at the face of death's door because of my commitment to that end and returned to tell about it, both literally and figuratively."
I put the Expedition back into gear, signaled, and pulled the big SUV back onto the highway and headed back towards Red River Falls.
"So, yes, Clarissa. You are right. I am tough as nails. Fighting for your life - whether from death itself or an existence worse than death in jail - will pretty much do that to you. So I won't thank you for destroying our family. But, in a way, I do thank you for making me a stronger person. Because I can honestly say that I never would have been prepared to become Sheriff if you hadn't."
I stopped talking at that point and my soon-to-be-ex-wife and I rode in silence the remainder of the trip. For Clarissa, it was literally a trip into the future as she would now have to decide what her future was going to be. Only she could set the direction. The only thing I knew was that her future would not include me, at least not as her husband.
When we arrived home, Clarissa simply went upstairs without saying a word and went to bed. She slept for several hours, probably from pure exhaustion after having spent the weekend in jail. The boys got home from their weekend trip with the youth group to the Twin Cities and were eager to tell us all about it. As I listened to their youthful chatter and excitement, I knew that there was no way I would have had Clarissa arrested had they been home all weekend instead of 200 miles east of here. A lucky break for me and a bad one for Clarissa.
Clarissa eventually came downstairs around supper time. She smiled and greeted the boys with hugs and kisses on their heads. She cooked a light supper for all of us consisting of grilled ham and cheese sandwiches.
And, much to my amazement, after supper, Clarissa asked us all to remain at the dinner table. I had no idea what was coming but she sat there and told the boys the news that she and I were going to be separating. She explained to the boys that we had been having some serious problems and that, although we loved both Nick and Jake dearly, that she and I could not stay together and she was going to be moving out for a while.
Clarissa even went so far as to say that this was a decision that she had made and begged Nick and Jake not to be angry with me as it was not my fault. She did fib a little bit when she said that she wasn't sure how long we would need to be apart, just long enough for her and I to settle some differences that we had.
I'm sure that her reasons for keeping things open-ended were to allow the boys time to adjust to us not being together and I was grateful for that. She also assured the boys that their home would not change and they would remain in the house and on the little acreage with their horses, cattle, dogs and cats that they had come to love so much.
Clarissa assured them that, although the boys would not be spending time with both her and me at the same time, that they would still see both of us on a constant basis. She even went so far as to ask them to please help me out as much as possible and also asked them for help in finding her a suitable place to stay in Red River Falls so they could spend time there after school before coming home to the farm each night.
To their credit, the boys were sad but took the news much better than I expected. There were tears, of course, but neither of them broke down fully or blew up in a tantrum. Perhaps they had suspected and even expected that things would eventually come to this. Nick had alluded to it even when I was at the law enforcement conference in Minneapolis over a year and a half ago. Sometimes, we adults don't give our kids the credit they deserve for their intuition and perceptions of the world around them.
Within a few days, Clarissa had secured a very nice apartment in a brand-new complex of town houses that was inside a gated community. The complex had its own playground and pool that the boys would probably enjoy this summer and was within six blocks of the middle school they both attended.
It didn't take Chris Hayes much persuading to drop the charges against Clarissa for assaulting a peace officer. I think Chris knew how difficult this would be for all of us and realized Clarissa was acting out of desperate self-preservation than any real malice towards him or any other deputy. Marion Lawson played ball, as I demanded he would, and Judge Hanna Bergen did her part to make the case go away.
If we ever audited for any reason, people would remember something had happened, but there was no paperwork or reports to specify what. I never told Clarissa any of that, of course, just to make sure the divorced went through its natural progression.
When I broke the news of all of this to Shannon, she was incredibly supportive of me as she knew the finality of my impending divorce was weighing heavily on me; not because I wanted to stay married to Clarissa, but simply grief and remorse of a dead and failed marriage.
It was strange, too, because I could now also begin to focus on my new life with Shannon and Bridget that would rise from the ashes of my previous life with Clarissa. And I knew in my heart that my boys would blend well with Shannon and Bridget and accept them as stepmother and stepsister. I was sure there would be conflicts and stumbles along the way, but my gut instinct told me there were to be far more wonderful days in our future than rocky ones.
And, eventually, I even began to hope that someday the right man would walk into Clarissa's life and give her the happiness that I was unable to.
Another big surprise was the revelation from my future father-in-law that his impending wedding gift to Shannon and I would be to pay off the mortgage for the acreage so that Shannon and I could focus on other things besides working to pay the bank. It was more than I could have ever imagined, more than I deserved and I was so shocked by his offer that I initially refused.
But Jack Sullivan reminded me that I didn't want to get on his bad side and there was nothing that he wouldn't do for his daughter and granddaughter. Then he laughed hysterically and pulled me in for a massive bear hug and said, "Welcome to the family!"
Thus, one major chapter in my life comes to a close. And the next chapter is now ready to be written. All of the principal characters are in place. There is no need to dwell on the past, only a bright future ahead. From this day forward, the only history that will matter is the history we make for ourselves.
The End
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