The Taxi Driver Task Force - Cover

The Taxi Driver Task Force

Copyright© 2018 by Diane Destry

Chapter 15

Thriller Sex Story: Chapter 15 - San Francisco Police Detective Trish Cavanaugh didn't want the transfer from the Serious Crimes Squad to the Taxi Driver Task Force because it was the sort of case that only came along once in a lifetime and she was happy being the low gal on the totem pole right where she was. Now she is all caught up in the horror of a serial killer that toys with his female victims in ways that wake her up at night shaking with the vision of his limitless evil.

Caution: This Thriller Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Coercion   Consensual   Rape   Gay   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Crime   Cheating   Humiliation   Rough   Spanking   Group Sex   Interracial   Black Male   White Female   Anal Sex   Cream Pie   Exhibitionism   Oral Sex   Voyeurism   Size   Violence  

Day 15 (22 October 2018) Notes for Taxi Driver Task Force initiated on 8 October 2018 (Detective Trish Cavanaugh Badge 3446 SFPD)

All of a sudden, the Task Force was getting a lot of bad press from a sarcastic newsprint organization that was tying our failure to find the killer to an upcoming political campaign that might just push the current party out of City Hall and on the outside looking in.

I can honestly say that I was basically a non-political animal and couldn’t care less which party was in power. I had the conviction that all politics was built on the foundation of corruption and most politicians would say anything to get elected and would continue to lie in order to stay in power.

Our last meeting was rift with rumors about a change in the chain of command and I was dubious of that ever happening with an election coming up.

Needless to say, I was shocked when the Chief of Police was given his walking papers, and the City Prosecutor was transferred to in-house legal issues right down at city hall.

The new Chief of Police was a long-time black half-cop and half-politician that was long on camaraderie and short on practical Criminal Investigation. That was par for the course in this region of the West Coast political spectrum. The Feds in the Task Force were all rolling their eyes and giving us the “we told you so” looks that showed their total disgust with local politics and incompetent local law enforcement. I guess I was at the top of their list considering their previous comments about my suggestions.

I was also surprised to discover that my ex-husband, former assistant District Attorney Frank Feeney, was now appointed to be the new head Prosecutor by the board of city commissioners.

I hoped his new, replacement trophy wife would enjoy the added income and that he would lose every fucking case he was involved in from that day forward. I guess you could call that vindictive but the prick was humping that nineteen year old even when I had the misfortune of taking two bullets in my flak jacket on an otherwise quiet weekend. All I got was bruised tits and a reaction from him of “how could you do something so stupid that it made me change my schedule?”

The Feds beefed up their participation in the Task Force by calling in some of their lazy-ass workers in the southland that were circle-jerking their inability to do anything about the wave of illegals surging into the country at a time when the last thing we wanted was more untrained illiterates to swell the population already stretched to the limit by huge influxes of illegals from south of the border.

I was still writing to my daughter’s supposed main twist, Doug the Marine over in Afghanistan doing his duty for God and Country even though he was only just nineteen years old. I was ashamed of the fact that I was cheating with him on my daughter because she had treated him like dirt and didn’t write to him like any responsible girlfriend would do when he was in harm’s way and thousands of miles away. Her excuse was that she couldn’t bear to think of him getting his head blown off and it was better just to wait to see if he would come back in one piece. I was beginning to wonder where I gone wrong in raising her with values that seemed in direct contrast to my own somewhat traditional sensitivities to human compassion.

My FBI “partner got transferred to the Denver office after a spate of letter bombs that rocked the Colorado High with red flags of the Oklahoma City debacle. They sure got rid of McVeigh in a blink of an eye when other death row denizens were making long term plans for writing books. Not that I was opposed to the death penalty and all that but I thought they should have continued to keep interrogating him to find out the backstory.

I had suspected the FBI guy was really a “snitch” to make certain I didn’t stir up any piles of shit that was better left under the carpet. My new partner was a former internal affairs guy that was not well liked by any of the other departments even though all he had done was to keep the records straight in the basement. His name was Josh and he was a sort of youngish optimistic guy that needed some work done on his teeth to hide the gaps. I happened to see his dick when he was taking a leak in a vacant lot because the part of town we were in didn’t have any restrooms for uninvited guests like us. I guess I was peeking out of curiosity and I was flabbergasted at his size.

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