Chapter 02 - Police Brutality
Officer Collins knew she was in trouble. Driving back to the precinct at the end of her afternoon shift she took the long route, not wanting to face Lieutenant Spikes. He would be angry, as usual, and she would probably have to fall back on a little sex appeal to get out of it, but when allegations of police brutality made the news there was always hell to pay. She was just doing her job, so what if some scumbag wound up in the hospital? Especially when he had a gun.
She parked her blue and white police cruiser in the fenced off lot behind the modern brick central station. Collins felt the eyes of a few incoming and outgoing cops, but they steered clear, not wanting to be tagged guilty by association. Except for Officer Rogers, of course, he loved busting her chops. He caught her coming down the hall towards the locker room and broke into a wide grin. "Hey Collins," he said, "You really bust both that guys' hands? Jesus Christ, you fucking bruiser!"
She gave him a sweet smile, flipped him the bird and told him to, "Fuck off." She couldn't stand Rogers, a good officer but a real sexist. He hated female cops and did everything in his power to make them feel inferior. It was guys like him who made her try extra hard. Then again, regular tough for Stacey Collins was way beyond that of the average cop, despite her looks. If there was a vicious call or violent crime she wanted to be their first and after five years on the force she thought she had earned some respect. Until it came to jerks like Rogers.
After a quick shower she dressed in her street clothes: white sneakers, black sweats, and a gray t-shirt under a black leather jacket. Not much different than her uniform. She brushed her blonde hair back, shaking it all out after twelve hours tied up under her hat. It was almost down to her shoulders now and she was liking the length. In the mirror she put on a little makeup, looking extra pale due to the fluorescent lights, but her body looked solid. For some reason her chest looked a little bigger today, maybe it was the t-shirt?
Well here goes nothing, she thought, pushing through the locker room door into the squad room. Within two steps she heard "Collins! My office! Right Now!" Lieutenant Spikes yelling silenced the office for a second before the usual hum of the workplace started back up. He stood at his office door, a tall black man with close cropped graying hair, almost thirty years on the police force. He slammed the door behind her.
"Why do you do this to me, Collins?" his tone was calmer in the privacy of his office and he sat down behind the desk. "This is the third complaint on you in the last two weeks! It's all over the news. I've got the brass up my ass. What happened?"
"Lieutenant, my report shows the suspect, who was positively identified as the man who had just robbed two people at an ATM machine, beating one of them severely in the process, appeared to have a gun hidden in his pants and he was reaching for it while resisting arrest. I used my flashlight and struck the subject only in order to protect myself and subdue him." That sounded pretty good, Stacey thought, I'm getting better at this.
But Lieutenant Spikes disagreed. "So you cracked his skull open, broke both his hands in multiple places and his lawyer says his spine's all out of whack. Probably going to cost the department a shitload to settle. That's two things that get my ass chewed out, Collins: Losing money and bad p.r.."
"I'm sorry, sir. I'm just doing my job. If the brass want to settle that's not my fault."
"Bullshit, Collins! You're taking things to another level. A level we can't afford."
"Oh, I see," she frowned. "So Rogers is out there smashing up how many vehicles this year, three so far? Him and his buddy Lukas put that dealer in a coma last month, remember that? Beat him half to death on the street in front of witnesses and the video's all over the internet. And he's-"
"Enough!" Spikes raised a hand. "You don't think he's on thin ice here? This isn't about Rogers, it's about you. I know you're out there in the shit, but this is too much."
"But," she wanted to protest the double standard but knew it wouldn't fly with him. That's fine, she thought, just file that one away with the rest of the sexist department bullshit. If she ever decided to sue, Stacey could retire to a nice hot beach and spend her days in a bikini instead of a cop uniform.
"Stacey, please!" Spikes sighed. "You know I like you. Your dad and I worked together a long time. When he retired he asked me to look out for you. But this has got to stop. You gotta take it in a couple notches, let the other guys get in there first, keep your name out of the papers. So here's what I want you to do."
"Please don't say it!" Stacey batted her eyes at him but it was too late.
"Two weeks vacation. Relax, take a trip, go get drunk, I don't care, just stay out of trouble. You're a good cop and I don't want to lose you, so go blow off some steam and come back fresh."
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry I let you down," she hung her head. So much for sex appeal saving the day.
"Don't worry about it. Now get out of here and I'll see you in two weeks." Spikes watched her go, hoping his words got through to her. She was his best female cop, sexy as hell too, and she was tough and she got the job done, but circumstances dictated he be hard on her this time.
Out in her personal car in the lot, a new black Dodge Charger, Collins fumed. Two weeks? She was being punished, plain and simple, just for being tough and a girl. When she got stressed Stacey usually took it out at work, but now she didn't even have that. It wasn't fair, guys like Rogers got away with murder, and here she was forced to go on vacation over a couple broken hands. Guilty broken hands at that.
"Face it girl," a voice inside her said, "You need to get laid." As she drove out of the parking lot away from the precinct, she called Thomas on her cell phone. He only lived a couple blocks away and she hoped he was home. It went right to voicemail, a short message saying he was out of town through the weekend. She hung up. They had only been together a dozen or so times since he moved into that condo downtown and even though she missed him right now, Stacey was too tough to admit it. Sex with him was so good, though. He had a big dick, he knew how to use it, and he could go for hours, but their schedules rarely matched up.
"Fuck it," Stacey said, flooring the car down the street. She headed to the gym, thinking a post shift workout might do the trick. On a Friday evening the gym was pretty dead, the civilians primed for their happy hours and dinner dates and club hopping. She hung her coat on the rack by the door, ready to hit her routines hard. As she walked past the weight area she saw a few guys lifting, a lanky nerd with scrawny arms, a middle aged bald guy with a beer gut, and the bodybuilding guy who was always there.
She called him "Sven" because he looked Nordic, with short cropped blonde hair and light blue eyes, well over six feet tall, arms like cannons, huge neck muscles, and a chest like a beer barrel over super huge and defined abdominals. His legs looked like small tree trunks. She scowled like she usually did as she went by the guys. She hated being hit on at the gym, but her eyes lingered over "Sven" for a moment. In the mirror along the wall she checked herself up and down. She would never be a model, not with her wide hips and short stature, but what she did have were some well defined curves that were all muscle. Strong legs, big butt, smaller boobs, and perfect toned arms. Five days a week at the gym kept her that way and she knew she was more than sexy.
The cardio area was mostly empty too, a couple old cows grinding along on the ellipticals at a slower pace than walking. It was a smaller gym and sometimes it was so busy you couldn't even get on a piece of equipment which really ticked Stacey off when that happened. The only reason she joined was because her apartment was less than two blocks away. She hopped on a stair climber, set the timer to thirty minutes on the maximum difficulty and hit go. The gym blasted annoying Top Forty dance music so she concentrated on her reflection in the mirror on the wall.
Twenty minutes in the sweat was pouring, her short legs pumping strong, just starting to feel the exertion. Stacey was disappointed her boobs didn't bounce like more well developed girls in the gym, they were too small and she really wanted to get them done. It would only cost the deductible on her insurance, but there was no way. The guys at the precinct would just give her more shit. Which made her think of why she was now on vacation and that got her steaming all over again and Stacey redoubled her effort.
