Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Rape, Lesbian, Rough, Interracial, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Petting, Caution, Violent, .
Desc: Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 1 - College football is a big business in a small Texas town and when one woman is murdered and another is reported missing, a Texas Ranger is sent in to investigate.
Helen had been the Sheriff's secretary for nigh on 40 Years, ever since she'd graduated from typing school in 1966. Not just for Fiddler, of course, she'd worked for seven different Sheriff's in that time. Some of them good, some of them not so good. On the bad days, Helen just reminded herself that she worked for the county, not the man. She'd told herself that quite a bit since Owen Fiddler had gotten himself somehow elected to the job.
She was doing routine paperwork, not that there was much of any other kind in West Abilene County, when Helen found a folder that Fiddler had left sitting on his desk. It was the Sheriff's personal case file on the Thomas girl who'd gone missing a few days earlier. The Sheriff's files weren't the official ones; they usually had little bits that didn't belong in any official report. Personal notes and observations, for example. They were supposed to be kept locked tight simply because it was the Sheriff's own business and nobody else's.
Helen shook her head, thinking about that poor girl. It was terrible the way the kids just up and left these days, without even so much as fare-thee-well. Ethan had mentioned it to her over dinner the night before, but only briefly. There weren't a whole lot of men in this town for a 61-year-old woman to pick from, but Ethan Moore was a good man, if a little slow at romancing. They had dinner once or twice a week and generally just talked, enjoying some company away from work. She knew the college president well enough to tell that the missing student worried him greatly. He was such a sweet man and coming so quickly after Barbara Welch's death...
Helen found her key for the Sheriff's personal files and went to put that folder where it belonged. Fiddler didn't know Helen had her own key to his small filing cabinet. He'd never asked and she'd never told him, it just hadn't occurred to her. She was the one who really ran the office and every one of those six previous sheriffs had known it. Owen Fiddler had been Sheriff less than a year and he was learning it too, only much slower than any of his predecessors, being the sort of man he was.
One of the secrets to being a good secretary is having a good memory. Helen didn't have much of one for numbers, nor did faces or names stick out much when she needed them. What she did remember was exactly where everything was. If she saw a piece of scrap paper with an address on it stuck in some dusty file, well by some strange machination of the mind, a decade later if someone asked about that scrap of paper she could just go right to it. This came in handy around the Sheriff's Department a lot more than you might think. Helen's favorite Sheriff, the late Waldo Reed, had liked to call her the 'Little Old Lady In Charge' and when she saw something new or out of place in her office, it stuck out like a sore thumb.
That's precisely what the thin file with the yellow tag did. It was in the top drawer, the one you had to open first if you wanted to open either of the two the lower ones. The folder had the name 'Barbara Welch' handwritten on it and that too struck Helen oddly. Because there was another file, another Sheriff's Personal File, on Barbara Welch, one with a plastic label that Helen had made herself on the department's only label maker. Helen opened the third drawer and found it, holding the two files in her hands as if weighing them, the Thomas girl all but forgotten for the moment. Neither of them was the official file, of course, but why two separate private files?
The one Helen was familiar with, the one she'd found in the bottom drawer, was very thin with some handwritten notes about how there was nothing suspicious about Barbara's death. No witnesses. No evidence except the body. It had a rough draft of the statement Helen herself had typed up for the press release. A couple photos of her naked body that hadn't gone into the official file. It was pretty straightforward.
The other file, the new one, Helen read much more slowly. Twice. Feeling her body grow tired and seem to shrink with every sentence. This file also contained photographs, but not like the other ones. Helen, who had seen most nearly everything in her 42 years working for the county, now told herself that she had indeed seen it all. She tucked the file under her arm, locked the Sheriff's filing cabinet, and drove over to see Ethan. He would know what to do, she hoped, because there was nobody else she could trust now.
Ethan was not feeling happy at the moment. He'd spent the afternoon with Emily Thomas who had come to find out about her sister's disappearance and get Lisa's things from the college. That was bad enough. It was worse suffering through Deputy Hansen's inept questioning of the woman in the college president's office. The boy was new, that was a fact, and for some unknown reason he'd focused on the missing girl's sexuality as a point of motive for disappearing. Ethan wondered if Hansen was naturally obsessive or if Sheriff Fiddler had pointed the boy down that road on purpose, finding some juvenile humor in it.
Emily Thomas had been every bit as pretty as her younger sister, and Deputy Hansen had stuttered and stammered his nervous way through questioning her without having once looked the woman in the eyes. Mostly he watched the slow rise and fall of her breasts, sometimes her long legs, wishing she'd do that Sharon Stone thing and uncross them, just once.
"Did, uh, your sister have any, um ... boyfriends?"
"No. Lisa didn't like boys, Deputy."
"Uh ... oh."
"I don't like boys either, Deputy."
"Um, right ... so, did she, uh ... was she seeing some uh, person?"
"My sister was living with her swim coach. Barbara Welch? Didn't you know that?"
"Uh, yeah, we ... I mean ... yeah, I heard..."
"And so I think it's safe to say that they were seeing each other."
"Uh, seeing each ... other?"
"You know, romantically?"
"Lisa was out with me, but I doubt she told anyone around here. I suppose you people burn lesbians at the stake in this town." Emily glared at the young man. "A big night for you is probably doing a little cow-tipping, huh Deputy?"
"Uh ... oh boy. I don't, uh..."
"She only stayed because she was in love. Lisa called me after Barbara died, the day she found out. I asked her if I could come get her. She said no, she wanted to stay." Emily looked like she wanted to cry; despite the toughness she was trying so hard to project. Ethan had dug his handkerchief out and handed to her. "I should have come. I should have driven down and gotten her."
Emily did cry then, finally. Perhaps because she had known her sister so well. "After our parents ... died ... Lisa, she didn't take it very well." Emily looked at the deputy and shook her head. "You won't find her. She was in love and she'd already lost so much."
She dropped the handkerchief on Ethan's desk and left with the deputy's hungry eyes following her every step of the way.
Emily had taken a room at the Howard Johnson's Motor Lodge, paying in advance for a full three days, but Ethan had a feeling she'd be leaving soon. Especially if she really believed her sister was gone for good. Ethan would feel a lot better once the woman was out of town. She reminded him too much of Lisa.
Ethan had watched the deputy leave without a word, happily rid of the fool and knowing Hansen would go straight to Fiddler with whatever the boy had thought he'd learned. That wouldn't be much. And then the old professor poured himself a big drink. Laura popped in to say she was going home and Ethan gave his secretary a tired wave and nod. He'd already decided to get drunk.
There was a knock on the outer office door and Ethan ignored it at first. "Ethan? Are you there? It's me, Helen." Ethan had just started the bottle of Wild Turkey and he wished he could finish it in peace. He just wanted some sleep. This business with Barbara's death and Lisa's sudden disappearance so soon after, and now the girl's sister looking for answers ... it was all bad and Helen trying to cheer him up wasn't what he needed.
But he sighed as the woman knocked again and Ethan moved slowly through his secretary's office to unlock the door. He greeted Helen somewhat perfunctorily and let her follow him into his own office without protest. He poured himself another drink and looked at the woman, tipping the bottle in her direction.
"Yes, I believe I will have a sip," she surprised him. Ethan imagined that Helen would have been quite happy if West Abilene were still a dry county. He poured a bit more than half a shot into a glass for her and slid it across his desk.
"What brings you out here, Helen?" He sipped his whiskey and watched Helen swallow her drink with one gulp, grimacing slightly and shaking her gray head. Helen's cheeks flushed, but her eyes remained clear and steady and Ethan was uncomfortable beneath them.
"What if I told you that Barbara Welch had been murdered?" She watched Ethan's face as it drained of color.
"I found ... this." Helen lifted the thin folder she'd been carrying, putting it on Ethan's desk. He took it slowly, not wanting to touch it and dreading what he might find. But Helen was watching, and somewhere else perhaps, Barbara and Lisa were watching too, waiting to see what he would do. His heart burned with guilt.
"Barbara Welch," the man sighed. He looked through the folder silently for a moment before finally lowering his head, dropping his cheek onto his folded arms and lying on his desk like a schoolboy. Ethan was so tired. So weary of it all. He closed his eyes.
"That Floyd Peterson and Sheriff Fiddler are covering it up," Helen said. "There was no proper investigation at all. They might as well have killed that poor woman themselves. She didn't drown by accident. Even I can see that much. She was raped, Ethan, raped and then murdered and the coroner and the sheriff are covering it up."
Ethan wished Helen would just be quiet. He needed to think. His stomach churned and he felt the alcohol rising sour in the back of his throat. He'd done so much wrong in just a few days. A lifetime of trying to be good, thrown away. And for what? To protect Fiddler and Peterson, the County Coroner? To protect Coach Riles and some of his football players ... A few young men who had murdered a woman for the sport of it? To protect the college? Or merely to protect himself? That was his real fear, that underneath it all, he'd only been trying to save his own skin.
"What are we going to do, Ethan?" Helen was asking.
We do what I should have done the minute they found Barbara floating face down in that swimming pool, Ethan decided. He didn't say that, but he did say, "Do you know anyone with the Rangers, Helen?"
After 40 years working in a west Texas sheriff's office, that was akin to asking if George Patton had known anyone in the Pentagon. Helen knew just who to call, but she'd wanted someone she trusted to tell her it was okay. That her old mind wasn't finally getting up to playing tricks on her. Ethan had found just enough strength to do that.
"Rosie? Hi, it's Helen ... Yes, I'm just fine. How're you? ... Oh! Pooh! You are not! ... Now listen, sweetie ... I got some papers to send you ... Uh-huh ... You got your fax turned on? ... Okay..."
Helen started sending the file over the telephone wires to Austin.
" ... They're coming ... Now, how's that handsome young man of yours, anyway? ... Uh-huh ... Is that right? Well sweetie ... Uh-huh ... Eight of them ... Now Rosie ... You know my little Geena is still lookin' for a beau ... Oh! Don't I know it! ... You did not! ... And what did she say? ... Oh, Rosie, she did not! ... Okay ... That's all the pages..."
Helen put the file back together and dropped the little fax receipt her machine generated into her shredder.
" ... No! I will not give you my recipe for Rhubarb Twist! No ma'am ... Not until you send me that recipe for Sweet Louisiana Chili ... Uh-huh ... Okay, look Rosie, you get those pages to Patsy now, you hear? Okay ... You're a sweetie ... Uh-huh! ... Bye-bye, darlin!"
Helen locked the file in her own little fireproof safe under her desk, a good one that none of the Sheriffs had ever known the combination to. None of them had ever bothered to ask for it and most of them had forgotten it was even there.
Rosie was the secretary to Captain Patrick Mahoney, who ran the Sexual Crimes Division of the Texas Department of Public Safety, more commonly known as the Texas Rangers. It wasn't but five minutes after Helen had hung up her phone that the barrel-chested, red-haired Texan was looking through the faxes and taking his own set of notes. If there was one thing that Mahoney, who had 3 sisters, 4 daughters, and 9 granddaughters, hated more than sex crimes it was a dirty cop who tried to cover one up.
Mahoney's mandate came from the Governor of the great state of Texas. He needed to find West Abilene on a map, not because he didn't know if it was his or not, his jurisdiction started at the state line and didn't end until it reached another one, but because he needed a good investigator and he needed that person there fast. Evidence had a way of disappearing quickly and they'd gotten a big break, but he knew it wouldn't last. He needed someone tough and ruthless and not afraid of getting in a dust-up with a dirty sheriff in his own dirty town. "One riot, one Ranger" was the Rangers motto and the one Ranger Mahoney had in mind was one of the best.
Santina Maria Pacifica Salinas Wellington Vasquez was her full name. The Wellington part, along with her piercing green eyes, had come from her great-grandfather who had been an English cattleman. The rest of her was delightfully Spanish-Mexican. From her dark, copper skin to the thick black hair falling around something more than just a pretty face, Tina Vasquez radiated confidence and a strength of character to complement her sleek, athletic form.
Vasquez had been a Texas Ranger for five years, since being recruited out of the University of Texas Law School. Tina had graduated summa cum laude, number three in her class, while taking almost double the normal course load. Some of the offers from law firms had bordered on the ludicrous for a young woman of 24 who grew up with six brothers and sisters, a father who worked the fields, and a mother who played nanny to some rich gringos for less than minimum wage.
She wanted to be a cop though. Vasquez knew she had the brains, the body, and the attitude. And the Rangers were the best game around, until she decided to apply for the US Secret Service next year, or maybe the year after, she hadn't decided yet. Whenever she did it, there was little doubt she'd get accepted. Minority women with her qualifications were worth their weight in diamonds these days, especially in Washington.
If there was any hitch in her plans, it was that Tina was a lesbian. That wasn't so bad though, the Texas Rangers had taken the same policy as the military, informally at least: Don't ask, don't tell. Publicly, the Texas Rangers would not discriminate based on sexual preference. Realistically, having openly gay Rangers running around would be a political nightmare in the Bible Belt, where the Minority still believed themselves to be the Majority and intimidated the hell out of people who should have known better. Vasquez lived with it. She didn't tell and really, nobody who knew her needed to ask.
"Tina ... Don't ... Oh!" the busty blonde waitress from the Shoney's out on Route 7 gasped loudly.
"Don't what?" Tina looked up from between the woman's legs, smiling mischievously as she rubbed her thumb across the hard little clit in front of her.
Tina giggled and put her mouth back on the woman's cunt, sucking it hard and pushing a long middle finger rudely inside that tight pink asshole just beneath. She was foolish, even for a gringo, but goddamn she tasted fine! Tina had been getting a piece of this everyday for two weeks while she worked a child porn case in Texarkana. She was going to make the arrest that night and so this would probably be goodbye. Tina wanted to make it a good one.
The Hispanic beauty moved around so she could 69 with her sweet little playmate. They were well matched, the blonde, who's name was Dolly ... Who could ever resist that? Tina had wondered with a laugh ... was tall and curvy with big round breasts. She was white as snow and must have avoided that hot Texas sun like the plague to stay that way. Her blond hair was long and loose and smelled like sunflower oil.
Tina was a tall woman as well and wonderfully fit, with firm breasts topped by thick dark nipples. Her skin was golden brown all over, smooth and soft above the muscle barely hidden beneath. Her pussy was nestled sweetly in a small tuft of black pubic hair, with large pink lips and a clit as big as the tip of her little finger when she was aroused like she was just then. Dolly sucked it like a tiny penis, pushing her own fingers deep into Tina's willing sex in an effort to match what the 29 year old woman was doing to hers.
Tina was insatiable. She knew that and it even worried her sometimes. Once she started having sex, good or bad, she would just go and go until it was lights out and either she, or far more frequently, her lover dropped with exhaustion. Tina was incredibly orgasmic too, and that was a genuine gift, she thought, having dealt with too many women, too many victims who would never know sexual pleasure again. Once Tina had her first orgasm, there were often a great many more right behind it. The trick, she'd learned long before, was to keep that first orgasm at bay for as long as possible. Anticipation was often better than having, Tina knew, even for a good cum.
The Hispanic woman wrapped her arms around Dolly's waist and rolled onto her back, clamping her strong, smooth thighs to the blonde's head. Tina liked being on the bottom when she 69'd; she loved having that sweet pussy humping her mouth hard when her lover came. Dolly was better than some she'd had. The girl positively gushed with juice and had no hesitation to grinding her cunt eagerly on Tina's tongue. Tina sucked deliberately, opening her generous mouth to take nearly the entirety of Dolly's swollen vulva between her lips. She chewed the soft flesh gently and tongued every little inch of the blonde's sweet sex that she could reach.
Dolly had also found her new lover to be quite exciting. Something about a woman with a badge, she supposed, although seeing Tina beat the daylights out of her abusive husband had been pretty exciting too. After the ambulance had taken the man away with a police escort, and after Tina had taken her statement, Tina had taken Dolly. They just knew, sitting there in Dolly's little apartment, they just knew they had to fuck. And now it had been two weeks of torrid sex every chance they got. Dolly had even called in sick twice, the second time almost getting in trouble because Tina had been trying her best to make Dolly cum while the waitress was telling her boss how she'd caught a little cold.
Tina shoved a second finger inside Dolly's ass, twisting them while she flicked her tongue rapidly over the blonde's clit. And that had done it. A flood of gringo fuck juice poured across Tina's flushed face, spilling in and around her sucking mouth and soaking the woman completely. Tina drank it happily and let herself go then as well, giving into the sensation of Dolly's mouth muscle deep in her own sex. The girl had been tongue fucking Tina without relent for a good ten minutes before finally receiving the pungent flood of Tina's urgency. Dolly swallowed with muffled approval, digging her fingers into Tina's firm ass and missing her husband not at all.
They lay there holding each other loosely and lazily kissing each other's bodies for a good long while afterwards. A few times they'd actually fallen asleep that way, mouth to pussy, only for one of them to wake up and start it all over again. Tina loved it like that. She just loved pussy and it seemed Dolly did too, although the attractive blonde had confessed from the beginning that she'd never imagined being with another woman before meeting Tina. Now Dolly liked to whisper into Tina's ear that she'd never again want anyone but a woman to love her.
But Tina knew better. It wasn't love and Tina didn't believe in that crap anyway. She saw what love was capable of every single day she went to work. Pleasure, pure and simple, was a much more honest emotion, if an emotion it could even be called. Whatever it was, all Tina really knew was that sharing her body with a woman like Dolly for a night or a week, for as long as she could, that was all her heart really required ... or so she liked to imagine.
Some while later, just as things were getting interesting for the third time after a brief rest, the celphone rang and Dolly reached for it awkwardly, with a small laugh and shiver. She picked it up for the Hispanic Ranger, who had just then decided to taste Dolly's asshole again, lest she ever forget how sweet it really was. That soft, crinkled ring of buttery flesh was clean and inviting, and already relaxed well enough that more than just the tip of Tina's experienced tongue could slip past it. She stiffened her tongue and pushed inside, pursing her lips to the damp skin around Dolly's opening and it was a loving, tender kiss.
"Helloooh!" Dolly squirmed on her tummy as Tina lay directly behind the blonde on her own stomach. Dolly's pale legs were spread wide and her ass opened magnificently for Tina's long tongue.
"Yessss..." Dolly hissed as Tina sucked the tight little pucker, wriggling the tip of her tongue against it. "She's ... right ... uh! Here!"
Dolly pushed the phone against a pillow and screamed as Tina wormed her tongue an inch deep into the woman's ass. She'd never met anyone who loved getting her ass eaten like Dolly did. Tina forced herself away with a sigh, licking her full lips and sliding along and gently over Dolly's body until her cunt was on her lover's ass, and her tits pressed themselves flat against Dolly's back. Tina kissed Dolly hard, turning the woman's face with her hands and forcing her tongue into the waitress' mouth for ten long heartbeats before pulling away and picking up the phone.
"Vasquez," she breathed.
"Tina, it's Mahoney..." The conversation was a short one and Dolly watched her lover quizzically at first and then with growing unhappiness.
"You're leaving?" Dolly sounded sad and Tina nodded. "Take me with you?"
"I wish I could, baby," Tina sighed and then forced herself to smile, hugging her lover tightly. It just wasn't in the cards.
Tina held Dolly that evening, waiting while the woman fell asleep and watching the bedside clock. Dolly had been a good lay, but that was all, and Tina had never promised the woman anything else. Perhaps, Tina thought, she might someday find someone to love. But that woman would have to be a lot more ... challenging? That was probably the right word, although Tina didn't like to use it. She was strong, intelligent, and had a willful independence all her own. Tina wanted a woman who would be interesting and reliable, that was a good word too. It made sense, didn't it? A girl like Dolly was good for fucking, but she'd need a babysitter as much as a lover, and Tina wasn't up for that.
Tina wasn't afraid to examine herself either. She knew she had a dominant, even sadistic personality in some ways. She could find herself relaxed and loving, as she had with Dolly. Or cruel and rough, almost violent even, as she'd been with a woman named Cynthia in college. Cindy had wanted to put up a fight, wanted to be taken and forced into submission by a more dominant woman, but only if her lover was strong enough to do it. That had been a lot of fun for Tina, a wonderful game physically and emotionally and by the end of it Cindy had been a good little submissive, very willing and definitely eager to please Tina any way she could.
Tina had enjoyed both women equally, but felt an emotion closer to love with girls like Cynthia. With girls like Dolly the emotion was ... Lust. Pure and simple. There was no challenge in bedding them, even the straight ones like that Shoney's waitress trying to escape her asshole husband. Romantic seduction wasn't nearly so much fun as some of the other kinds and those were the thoughts in the back of Tina's mind while she waited patiently in the darkness of an east Texas night.
The take down at midnight was an easy one; the kiddies were usually pretty tame. This one was a middle-aged man who'd bring fresh videos and magazines made in New Orleans to Little Rock where they were copied and packaged. From there the guy drove them to Dallas for distribution. Louisiana State Police had the supplier, Arkansas Troopers had the printers, and Vasquez was taking the guy down just outside Texarkana, in Texas. The guy ran his local operation out of a little farm near Dallas, but Vasquez wanted to take him on the road. It would be safer and easier then letting him get comfy in his own house and that place was already being torn apart by Mahoney's team. They'd served the warrant at 12:01am.
The FBI was coordinating everything and they had two cars on him the whole trip, switching them off and on, but he probably wouldn't have noticed if they'd chained a cruiser to his bumper. The states were getting the credit, FBI was getting satisfaction; these guys had been burning the Feds for years and the Bureau had a serious ego.
When the guy was 15 minutes out Vasquez signalled the six highway patrol officers she'd gotten assigned to her. They had already set up their check-point. A wrecked car had been hauled out from a local junkyard and dumped by the side of the road. Flares were laid out and it looked like just another roadside accident. Vasquez had even gotten an ambulance to sit on the shoulder, adding a little color to the scene.
They started stopping all the cars when the guy was five minutes away and this really was the only worrisome part. Traffic was very light, but if one of the cars they stopped just for appearances happened to have some kids in a joy ride, or some drunk with too many DUI's on his record, or some asshole with his wife chopped up in the trunk ... it could get ugly. All of a sudden they'd have a new case and a new problem. Stranger things had happened. But not this night. Two highway patrolman stopped the guy's car, talked to him nice through the window, and then Vasquez, dressed in civilian clothes, watched as one of the patrolmen asked him to step out of the car. As soon as he did Vasquez had her nine millimeter out, along with every other cop there. He was cuffed, given his rights, and taken away.
Easy as pie.
It was a good bust. In the perp's trunk were 144 counts of Child Pornography, Trafficking Across State Lines, Intent To Distribute, and Lord help him if the FBI could identify any of those kids and one should turn up dead. There was a team in Quantico working on exactly that by the following morning. Vasquez had a quick breakfast, gave Dolly's sad smile a gentle kiss, and started the long drive to West Abilene for a date with a dead woman named Barbara Welch.