Chapter 16

Day 16 (23 October 2018) Notes for Taxi Driver Task Force initiated on 8 October 2018 (Detective Trish Cavanaugh Badge 3446 SFPD)

My new partner Josh turned out to be a guy that was taken in by one of those “Find a Foreign Bride” schemes that promised to deliver a beautiful dish from the Ukraine with a submissive streak a mile long. He was disappointed to find only a letter from their main office on the island of Cyprus with the sad news that the young lady in question had met with an “accident” and would be unable to join him anytime soon.

We both laughed at that story that he told me with a sad look in his eyes and I suspected he had fallen in love with the never seen in person young lady with his youthful enthusiasm for finding his soul mate the very first time he ventured a relationship.

In return, I told him my sad tale of marriage and divorce with my prick of an ex-husband. Of course, he was the Chief Prosecutor for the city now and I guess I should have been a bit more respectful, but it was hard to do because I knew what a cheating bastard he really was down deep inside.

I remember on that all-important “second date” after my scoring a nice coup d’état with my shameful blow job that he lifted my ankles up on his wide shoulders in the back seat of the squad car and he showed me what an eleven inch dick could do when we had plenty of lube to make things nice and easy. After that, we were able to communicate like an old married couple because all our parts fitted together with such delightful precision that it seemed like we were manufactured in the same factory by the same workman that built sets designed to function with high efficiency when joined together for the purpose of heated copulation.

Now that I had a “partner” in more than just a professional sense, I curtailed my trolling of local booze parlors looking for an interesting male in search of some action. I was beginning to think that my roaming days were coming to a close.

I started to get annoyed at all the nasty jokes the other local law enforcement folks would throw at us sitting in the cafeteria or just waiting for a meeting to start.

“Hey, Josh, better watch out for your partner, I hear she uses “dum-dums” on her partners.”

No matter how directly she would glare at the wise-guy, they continued to harass her about one silly little mistake.

It was the same thing that her grandfather had told me so many years ago, “Be careful how you use your pretty mouth, dear, if you suck just one dick, they will all say you are nothing but a slutty cocksucker even if it is the only time you did it in your entire life.”

My initial reaction to that thought was to giggle and laugh but now years later I realized he was trying to tell me that my actions would always cause a reaction from nice people and others that would like to see me pay for my sins.

I picked up another unopened letter from Doug the Marine out of the trash bin because the selfish Diane was not in any mood to be wasting time reading or writing letters to some boy she wouldn’t be seeing for a very long time. I didn’t waste any time in responding, pretending to be a love-crazed Diane just waiting for his return.

I hoped it would cheer him up as I complimented him on his love-making technique and I knew for a fact that most guys just ate that shit up.

One of the more controversial conclusions made by the team of FBI profilers was that the rapist killer was a middle-aged white man who probably was unable to interact with females and still lived with his mother. Thinking back over some of my less successful dates, I remembered that most of that type of horny male was usually on the passive side and seldom was either violent or aggressive in their pursuit of pussy.

When I questioned the lead FBI investigator on how they had concluded the “perp” was a white man and no longer in the young category, she just shrugged her shoulders and said,

“Listen, dearie, I have learned not to question the expert’s algorithms because they are very up-tight about any doubt or dissention.”

It didn’t take a genius to comprehend it was a diplomatic way of telling me to shut my mouth and just follow orders.

Josh looked over at me and I could tell he was embarrassed that I had the nerve to question the head shed’s directives and I decided it was time to just tune down my natural instinct to pin down conclusions that made no sense to me.