The Admonition

"Nick Wellaton or 'Nick the Prick', as he's known in some circles, is the nephew of the Lieutenant Governor. A jealous husband filed a complaint against him when he caught Nick and his wife dancing cheek to cheek one night in a "hook up" club frequented by a lot of cheaters. IAB investigated but there was no concrete evidence so he got a slap on the wrist by his C.O. Six months later he was caught one night in his sector car by a field supervisor getting a blow job behind a closed supermarket. He was the training officer for the female rookie in the car with him and in her termination statement she stated that she only did it because he threatened a bad evaluation if she did not cooperate. Since she was still on probation, she got the boot and thanks to his uncle's intervention, he only got a one-week suspension."

"He was promoted to detective almost three years ago and was assigned to the general service division of the 2nd precinct. He was not liked by his fellow squad members or the detective lieutenant who was his C.O. It was alleged that he had a short affair with a married precinct secretary but since it could not be proven he was not officially reprimanded but the secretary was transferred and when the rumor got back to her husband, they divorced. Basically, he was persona non-grata at the squad and was given the cold shoulder. His uncle intervened once again and got him transferred to Organized Crime Task Force, much to the chagrin of the current C.O., Captain Hartwig"

"He managed to keep his dick in his pants for a while but then rumors started to surface that he was banging one of the secretaries there, a woman named Shelly Longmire. She was engaged at the time and her name is now Shelly Price and she is pregnant. There's a secret pool amongst the guys there as to whether the baby will have blonde hair like she and her husband or black hair like Wellaton.

"Another source told me that Wellaton's wife, Marilyn, either suspected or was made aware of his dalliances but since they have three kids she decided to overlook his infidelity, at least for the time being. She's a nurse at County General and I guess she got tired of playing 'second fiddle' because it's also rumored that she's discretely doing the horizontal tango with one of the doctors."

"The last piece of info I have is not pleasant and there in no way to sugar coat it but let me emphasize it is circumstantial, at best. Apparently, Arlene has been seen going to lunch with him on several occasions. What made my source suspicious was the fact that since he can't use a department vehicle to transport a civilian and his vehicle has GPS tracking he drove his department vehicle to the "non-employee side of the parking lot which would still show that his vehicle was on site and a few minutes later my source saw your wife leave for lunch and pick him up with her vehicle."

"The guy I spoke of is not a fan of Wellaton and when he inadvertently noticed this maneuver the first time, he kept his eyes open and noticed the same thing on two other occasions. He's in the field much of the time so that is all he could say definitively."

"Oh yeah, Joe added as an after-thought, aside from considering himself God's gift to women, he has money to burn. Apparently, it is family money left to him, because he has a big house in a ritzy neighborhood, a new Jag, a 26' cabin cruiser - you know all the toys. Why he wants to be a cop is anybody's guess."

I hadn't interrupted my friend through his entire dissertation although my blood pressure must have risen substantially. The information left no doubt in my mind that this guy was a piece of shit who preyed on married women and if he didn't have a hook in the governor's office he would have been tossed long ago. Interrupting my thoughts, Joe said:

"That's all I've got Mike. Just try to remember there's no "smoking gun" here, people love to gossip and rumors grow exponentially."

I replied, sincerely, "I really appreciate your help here, Joe. I just hope that you didn't put yourself in a position where you could get jammed up with the department."

He chuckled and replied: "Not a bit, man, I'm just a computer nerd but I'm the best they have and I don't leave fingerprints. As for the personal inquiries, the questions were asked in a manner that will never arouse suspicion and it was easy to get some dirt of someone who is so unpopular."

I thanked him again and we disconnected.

He was right about the 'smoking gun' shit but I also knew, 'where there's smoke, there's fire. My goal was to now either prove it or put this to bed, for my own piece of mind and the sake of our marriage. Either way, I knew that "Nick the Prick" and I would be having a conversation.

Since my conversation with Joe, just over a week ago things at home couldn't have been more normal. Arlene didn't exhibit any changes in behavior, she was a loving as usual and we had sex several times during the week. My wife loved sex and was uninhibited, often initiating it as often as I did. I was starting to wonder about my own paranoia but there were those clandestine lunches and I just couldn't get them out of my head.''

It was a few days later, on my day off, when my antennae went up again. I had gotten the boys off to school, put the coffee on and was making some soft-boiled eggs for Arlene when I heard her enter the kitchen from behind me. Obviously, I had become acutely aware of anything regarding her mannerisms or attire. So, when she again appeared in a skirt, a scoop neck blouse and heels I was stunned. Her hair was not in her pony tail and her makeup was a little more pronounced.

I complimented her on her appearance and asked what the occasion was.

A look of guilt quickly crossed her face but she must have known that I would notice and had her testimony prepared:

"Oh this, she said, looking down at herself with a dismissive hand gesture, no occasion I just like to look nice once in a while. The slacks and shirts that I usually wear almost feel like a uniform and I like to feel attractive once in a while. Besides, the girls and I are going to try to get out for lunch together today."

With a smile I didn't feel, I said:

"Well, considering you work mostly with men I'm not sure I'm thrilled with you looking 'THAT' attractive."

She laughed and after swallowing a piece of egg soaked toast, said:

"Don't worry, Sweetie, they're all either married or spoken for. Besides, I'm just an old lady compared to most of them. I just like to feel feminine once in a while."

"Well, just remember that you're my 'old lady', I said with just a bit of an edge to my voice.

With what seemed like a forced smile on her face she came over to me and leaning down gave me a nice kiss on my lips and then, looking at her watch, said:

"Oops, got to go, I'm running a little late."

She seemed a little anxious to leave and avoided my eyes when she said: 'love you" as she headed for the door. Looking at the kitchen clock I knew that she wasn't 'running late', if anything, she was ten minutes ahead of schedule. Also, knowing it was my day off, she didn't ask me my plans for the day, which was unusual.

Was it paranoia now that Joe had planted some additional seeds of doubt in my head? Maybe, but I wasn't going to just sit and hope for the best. A half-assed plan was formulating in my brain and in a short time I decided to run with it.

As I said I couldn't afford a P.I. But I could afford a rental car so I made a call and reserved a car from Rent-A-Wreck. My pick-up would not have made for an inconspicuous surveillance vehicle but the non-descript Chevy Vega that I picked up an hour later would do just fine.

At 11;15 I had situated my car in a section of the visitor's parking area where I could observe Arlene's car and the front door of her building. No doubt, the asshole was in his unmarked car and although I didn't know which one was his I would certainly remember his face from the picnic.

I didn't know if I would need them but I brought a small pair of binoculars and a camera with me. My rental was partially hidden from the building so my occasional use of the binoculars wouldn't easily be detected from any windows in the building, at least, I hoped so. Being caught spying on an organized crime unit would certainly raise some eyebrows and put me in an embarrassing situation.

At 11:45 a few people started to emerge from the building on their way to lunch and at 12:05 I saw Wellaton walk through the front door and get into a red Caddy. To the best of my knowledge he did not own a Cadillac. He had his Jaguar and his wife owned a Lexus SUV, so I assumed it might be a vehicle that the department had seized under the RICCO statutes.

He drove into the visitor's lot and parked about 150 feet from me as I slouched down into my seat. His vehicle was facing away from the front door and I could see him occasionally check his mirrors looking or watching for something or someone. I was praying it wasn't Arlene that he was looking for.

Unfortunately, a few minutes later that is exactly who showed up. He quickly exited the Caddy and slipped into the passenger seat of my wife's Chevy van. At least there were no displays of affection such as a kiss or a hug. Arlene's attention seemed focused on leaving the lot as soon as possible so as soon as the door shut she started to move.

She exited the lot and headed south on Pine Crest, a four-lane highway with commercial buildings and occasional fast food restaurants on either side. Since "shit head" didn't have access to the rear-view mirror and Arlene would never think that she was being tailed, I maintained a comfortable distance behind them.

They traveled about two miles and finally pulled into a Taco Bell. Having no choice, I continued past for several hundred feet and made a left into a parking lot and was able to pull back out into the north bound lane and pull into a lot across from the restaurant.

At that hour of the day the Taco Bell lot was full and my position did not allow me to see the drive through side of the lot so I didn't know if they were in the 'take out' line or parked out of my range of vision. Either way, I had no choice but to maintain my vigil.

Ten minutes later I had my answer when they exited carrying a white paper bag and a cardboard drink holder. Back in the car they made a right turn on Pine Crest, continuing south and I incurred several horn blasts as I crossed the north bound lane in pursuit. I was now about eight car lengths behind, aggressively working my way to a closer position when less than a mile later I saw my wife's turn signal as she pulled into the same county park where the picnic had been held.

Fortunately, I was still five car lengths and a few moments behind when I slowly entered the park. I saw them park at the far end of the lot and I backed my rental into a slot about 200 feet diagonally across from them. There were a handful of other vehicles scattered throughout the lot and most of them were parked near the playground area. Aside from an older gentleman walking his dog all the other people were young moms pushing their kids on the swings or catching them at the bottom of the slide.

I watched as they ate their takeout food and chatted, animatedly, on their respective sides on the front seat. When they finished, 'shit head' got out and deposited their trash in a garbage bin not far from the van. Before he re-entered he looked around briefly and then slipped inside. I gathered that the chit chat was over because he immediately moved next to Arlene and put his arm around her, within moments they were kissing.

I felt a tightness in my chest and was finding it hard to breathe which caused me to become lightheaded. I had to look away and take some deep breaths to regain control. At this point I didn't care who saw me and I sat up from my slouched position and grabbing my camera took some zoom shots of them trying to swallow one another's tongues. After some candid pics I reverted to my binoculars which afforded me a better view inside of the van.

The van was an older model with a bench seat and I could see the scum bags left arm was around her shoulder and his left hand was massaging her breast outside of her blouse.

I was tempted to just drive up next to them, pull him out of the vehicle and beat the shit out of him but I was in such a state of rage that I was afraid I might just kill him. I had killed the enemy before and although I took no joy in it, killing this piece of shit would not lose me a minute's sleep. I was also tempted to just end my agony and drive away but whatever it was - morbid curiosity, masochism, a need to see the final curtain drop on my marriage, - whatever it was, I managed to summon the intestinal fortitude to stay till the bitter end.

Arlene's right hand was around his neck as they continued to kiss and although I couldn't see her left hand, I assumed it was inside his pants stroking his cock or at least rubbing it through his pants. I saw them break the kiss as he put his hand behind her head in, what appeared to be, an attempt to guide her head down to his crotch, Arlene pulled her head back and with her right hand moved his arm from around her shoulder. The look of consternation on her face indicated that she was not happy with this maneuver. He attempted to recover by moving his face in, in an attempt to resume kissing but she put her hand on his chest and moved him away. From my angle I could only see my wife's face and some, seemingly, disapproving words were exchanged before she looked at her watch, shifted around and started the van. Within thirty seconds she backed out and was heading for the exit.

It was just after two when I pulled my pick up into the driveway. The boys would be home in an hour so I opened a beer, sat in my chair and tried to digest what I had witnessed. The making out and allowing another man to fondle her breasts was a major betrayal in and of itself. Although I may have been heart sick if she did, I wouldn't have been surprised if her head had disappeared into his lap. Arlene enjoyed sucking cock and she was good at it. However, the forcefulness of her rejection could only be attributed to one of two things. First, their relationship may not have evolved to that level of intimacy or she was just offended at his attempting to get a quickie blow job in a parking lot.

I was hoping and leaning toward the former. Maybe that was wishful thinking on my part but I wasn't ready to call it quits on my marriage, quite yet. For certain, this scum bag was a known predator and would peruse her until he achieved his goal. There was another certainty, he and I were going to have a talk - a very serious talk.

The next day, while still on my off shifts I was again positioned in the visitor's lot at 11:15 and both his Caddy and Arlene's van were in the lot. I was hoping there wouldn't be another lunch time rendezvous and at 12:10 Wellaton left the building, got in his car and left the property. My heart was pounding as I continued to watch Arlene's car but she never left the building and at 1:30 Wellaton returned and went inside. I had retained my rental car and was prepared to wait until five and follow Wellaton home. I knew his address but what I wanted was to observe the route that he took so I could prepare for my confrontation. I was pleased when he left at 3:45 and just hoped he was going directly home. As I followed him to his house I made note of several, sparsely populated places where I might be able to way lay him.

The next day was Friday the beginning of my 3PM to 11PM shift and being an Emergency Service officer, I did not have an actual patrol sector and was often stationary for short periods of time. Unfortunately, due to the fact that my vehicle was an extended, high top, van, it was particularly more noticeable than a patrol car. The vehicle had equipment to handle a multitude of unusual situations, such as a bomb robot, sniper rifles, body armor, tear gas, flash bangs, night vision goggles and even a little remote gizmo that could look around corners and project a 'real time' color image onto an eight-inch screen.

It was fortunate that my quarry lived outside of the city and inside of my jurisdiction and even though I wasn't expected to be in constant motion, it was policy that I move around the county in order to project the "omnipresence' police illusion, so it was possible that a supervisor monitoring the GPS mapping would notice any prolonged stops or that I was positioned on a lightly traveled side road and might inquire as to my reason for being there.

Remembering 'dick heads' propensity for skipping out early I had arrived at my selected location on a rural side street that intersected with a street on his route, at 4:30 and fortune smiled upon me when his Caddy passed me at 5:05. I immediately pulled out and catching up to his vehicle, activated my overhead light bar. I did not hit the siren in hopes of not attracting any additional attention, even though the street consisted mostly of McMansions set well back from the street.

At this point I'm sure he had no idea who I was but I followed standard traffic stop procedure and stood just to the rear of the driver's side window forcing the occupant to turn his head at an unusual angle to see me. However, instead of requesting his license and registration, I said through his open window:

"Get out of the car shit head and keep your hands where I can see them."

I could see that he already had his badge and I.D. case in his hand but he had to turn slightly in his seat to see me as he angrily hissed:

"What the fuck did you just say to me?'

"Sorry, I replied sincerely, Get out of the car MISTER shit head"

His door flew open and as he quickly jumped out of the vehicle preparing for a confrontation, I spun him around and slammed his chest into the door frame. With my left forearm securing him in that position, I reached my right hand under his jacket and removed his Glock 9mm service revolver from it holster.

I stepped back and ejected the clip and the chambered round. I threw the clip and round over the car, into the woods and carelessly threw the weapon onto the floor of his car.

He was livid with rage and still holding his badge case he opened it and holding it at arm's length, yelled:

"I'm a Fullerton P.D. Detective, you asshole, and when I'm done with you, you won't be able to get a job filling pot holes."

Before he could continue, I said in a constrained voice:

"I know who you are Wellaton and you can call whoever you like, including your uncle in the Governor's Office, but first we're going to have a little chat."

I had moved into his face and emphasized the word "chat" by punching my forefinger so hard into his chest that he stumbled back a foot. Before he could protest, I continued:

"I not only know who you are, I know what you are. You're a scum bag who likes to bed married women. In case you haven't figured it out yet ——— 'detective — — —, I'm Arlene Foley's husband and I know that you have been trying to get into her pants. So, here's what's going to happen, shit head, as of right now you are going to cease and desist your attempts to bed another married woman, at least my married woman. If you don't I can promise you that the consequences will be dire. As for running to your uncle for help, you had better think twice. Your CO would like nothing better than to dump you back into uniform and your Chief would be more than thrilled to mount your scalp on his wall. Plus, the Governor and your uncle are so far behind in the polls that it would take an act of God to get them re-elected in November."

"You're fuckin crazy, he spat. I don't know what the fuck you're talking about you demented cock sucker. I don't make 'unwanted' advances towards women, married or otherwise,"