The Fugitive From Down Under - 3. Inspector Channing Comes to Pleasant View

Jack stood there in stunned silence for a moment, and then spoke slowly. "OK, thank you Barney, and I'm sorry I was being hateful. Tell Momma I'll call her back in a few minutes."

"Oh, no problem, see y'all later!" Barney called as he traipsed off hurriedly through the snow back to his house.

Jack closed the door, and he and Brad walked back to their room together where they slipped into lounge pants and t-shirts. As they were doing this, Brad asked, "So what in the world do you make of that, Jack?"

"I don't know what to think. I mean, Bradley, I don't remember the man, he was gone by the time I was a year old," Jack said, his face growing dark. "I wonder why the hell the sorry sumbitch thinks he can come back and bother Momma now!" Jack finished.

"Well," Brad said, "I don't blame you, obviously, for being mad at the son of a bitch for walking out on y'all like that. But, aren't you at least curious to meet your father?"

"Hell, I don't know what to think," Jack said. Brad slipped an arm around Jack's broad shoulders.

"Well, baby, whatever you decide to do, however you want to handle this, you know I'm here for you," Brad said with a smile.

"Thanks, babe. Right now I'd better call Momma back," Jack said.

Brad went down the hall and sat in the living room, figuring Jack would appreciate a little privacy when discussing this big and totally unexpected news with his mother.

Later that night after dinner, Brad and Jack were talking. Jack explained to Brad that Jack's long-lost father, Billy Jack Smith, was now up in Annandale, staying at the home of Jack's cousin Susan indefinitely.

"Ol' sumbitch is probably free-loadin' off of Susan and Mike until he thinks he can con his way back into Momma's place," Jack said angrily. "Surely she is not that stupid."

"So you are going to try to go up there and meet him next weekend?" Brad asked.

"Yes, if you don't mind. I know you have to work," Jack added.

"Oh, no babe, of course I don't mind. If you want me to go, I'm sure Miz Vivian could get Barney to fill in for me at the store or something," Brad suggested.

"Oh, no, don't worry, baby," Jack said. "I know y'all will have a full house over at the B&B with that bus group of old farts that's stopping off on their way South. And besides, I'm sure I'm gonna have a LOT to talk to my so-called Daddy about!"

A few days later, on Wednesday morning, Brad and Jack were both in the middle of another workweek. Obviously, Jack was preoccupied with what meeting his father would bring. The Chief accidentally overheard Jack filling in Justin about this unexpected development in his life.

"Now, Albertson, it is a new year," Chief Morganfield said. "You know you are more than welcome to take a day off and go on up there to meet your Daddy if you want to."

"Thank you, sir," Jack replied. "But, honestly, I think I'd rather just wait until this coming weekend. Besides, I'm already taking off Friday since those meetings about the design for the water bottling plant are going to end up taking most of the day."

"OK, suit yourself," the Chief said, slapping Jack on the back with a good-natured grin.

"Oh, say," the Chief added before walking away back towards his office. "Albertson, Earheart, you guys did read that APB we received on that Australian didn't you?"

"Yes, sir," Justin replied. "Hard to believe a criminal of that notoriety may be here in Kentucky."

"Well, if he is and he heads to our part of the state like they're thinking, then I want us to be prepared," the Chief said grimly. He then continued, "And if that Aussie detective who is working on the case comes by, y'all make him welcome, you hear. When the Feds were in town this morning they sounded like they're acting like jackasses about that guy being over here looking into it. If you ask me, someone from his own country probably has the best shot at tracking the sick bastard down!"

"Damn it, fuck it, bloody fucking hell!" Brent Stokes cursed and screamed at himself in the mirror over the dresser in his room at the Pleasant View Tavern Hotel. He didn't know how Chief Inspector Dan Channing had done it, but evidently the fuck had managed to track him as far as Louisville International!

He had just learned this from a breaking news report on the noon news on one of the Rosemont TV stations. The odd thing was that Channing apparently still thought he was using the second alias Randy Likens and the thinner, bearded appearance, rather than his third and current fake name, Milton Howard, with his newly bald head and face and fast-growing gut.

"FUCK!" Channing screamed again. There was something in Pleasant View he had never quite managed to get back in college, and this was why his sick mind had led him to return there now to hide out. Yes, of course, he had known it was a risk - the authorities could easily find out that he had attended college there over two decades before.

He had actually figured that coming to Pleasant View was so obvious, it would be the last place they would look for him. And, the strategy had actually seemed to be working for a few days. But, now, with Channing having somehow managed to trace his flight into Louisville, it was a no-brainer to figure out where he had headed from there.

“Oh well, do what you came here for, do it quick, get what you deserved all those years ago, and get the hell out of here before the local yokels or that fucking Channing can either catch you.” This was the agenda that Channing just mentally set for himself on that cold Wednesday afternoon as on television the noon news continued.

Chief Inspector Dan Channing was on a flight from LaGuardia to Louisville at that moment, which was nearing its destination. He was so pissed he had felt as though he could have practically sprouted wings and flown from New York to Kentucky himself. Why had those ignorant mother-fucking Feds felt the need to broadcast a new nationwide APB - one that tilted their hand and was sure to let Stokes know they were onto his "hiding in plain sight" strategy of going back to his old college town in Kentucky?

That's what I get for doing things by the book, Channing thought. He wished he could have somehow gone on to Kentucky first and informed the American authorities of his new information about Stokes' potential whereabouts after the fact, but of course that would have been impossible. He just hoped it was not too late to catch the evil bastard before he got away - or decided to rape again.

It had been a string of luck that had led Channing, as well as the other Australian and American authorities, to figure out that Stokes had headed for Kentucky. Well, not so much luck as a rather amateurish mistake on the part of the criminal. Apparently, Stokes had used a credit card under the name of "Randy Likens" to book the flight from New York to Kentucky. Channing was sure that by now the rapist and embezzler was using yet another identity, but he reckoned that Stokes had simply slipped up and used the wrong card.

Evidently Stokes had not made the same mistake once reaching the Bluegrass State, however, as there was no further electronic trace of "Randy Likens" anywhere in Kentucky. As for why it had taken from when the flight was booked until now for the proper triggers to get tripped alerting the authorities to the use of the "Randy Likens" credit card - well someone's ass would be in a sling in D.C. over that, Channing was sure, but it wasn't his problem.

Jack was nearly at the end of his shift by the time Channing arrived at the P.V.P.D. in the car he had rented in Louisville. He introduced himself to the desk sergeant, as well as to Jack, who was just coming back into the station from having been out on patrol since after lunch.

"Pleasure to meet you, Chief Inspector Channing," Jack said cordially as they shook.

"Please, call me Dan, mate," the handsome older man said with a smile.

"Dan, then," Jack said, smiling back. "I wish, obviously, that it was anything else that had brought you to our part of the world."

"As do I," Channing replied soberly.

After sitting in on a briefing that Channing gave on his plans for his part in the investigation into Stokes' whereabouts, Jack headed for the locker room, showered and changed, and then headed on home.

Brad had gotten home from his work across the street at the inn and store a few minutes before, and greeted Jack at the front door with a kiss. "How are you this evening, darlin’?" Jack asked.

"Just fine babe, how was your day?" Brad replied.

"Well, all right, but I suppose you heard on the news about that Australian nutjob that may be in the area," Jack said.

"Yes, I did, that is so awful. Do you think he might really be here in Pleasant View?" Brad asked with concern.

"Well, if he was he's probably not anymore," Jack said. "That Aussie cop who is over here helping with the investigation is highly pissed at the Feds for putting out the APB giving away that they knew Stokes had headed to Louisville. Dan - that's the Aussie cop - figures that as good as told Stokes that they knew he was heading here to Pleasant View, because apparently he attended school here back in the '80s as part of that International Underprivileged Students Program they have up at the college," Jack concluded.

"Hmm," Brad said, "You would think this would have been the last place he would have chosen to hide out, since it is so obvious."

"Well," Jack said, "We figure that is exactly what he thought we would think - you know, the old 'hiding in plain sight' routine."

They discussed this a bit more, and then headed out to have dinner at the Ramblin' Rose, as neither of them felt like cooking. There, they ran into Bubba and James and ended up having dinner across the table from the other handsome couple in one of the quaint old country diner's red leather booths.

"So," Jack said with that evil grin he always had when he was up to something, "Bradley here was wondering if you might have a particular flavor of ice cream on your truck, Bubba."

"Oh, really?" Bubba said, not following that Jack was up to something, or at least pretending not to catch on if he did. "What flavor is that, Brad?"

Brad recalled the quip that Jack had made about "snow cream" when melted snow and cum had mingled on his chest after Brad's and Jack's spontaneous romp in the snow a few days before. "I think that was YOU who was wondering, baby," Brad shot back at Jack with a grin.

Bubba and James both looked confused now. James spoke up playfully, "OK, I don't know what you two are talking about, but I would bet it is something dirty and crazy. I swear, for two who are getting ready to be 'old married folk,' literally, you too are the happiest, horniest bastards I've ever seen!"

"Oh, so it shows, does it," Jack shot back with a grin.

"Yes, and on you two it looks damn good, I must say," Bubba replied with a laugh.

Jack proceeded, as Brad blushed crimson, to give Bubba and James the "Reader's Digest version" of their in-the-snow sexplay, and the "snow cream" reference. Bubba and James roared with laughter.

"Wonder you two horny fucks didn't frostbite your asses off!" Bubba said, laughing hard.

"What's so funny, ladies?" Blake Lindgren quipped, coming over to the table just then to bring their checks.

"You DON'T want to know, Blake," Brad replied with a laugh.

"Mmmmhmmm," the teen replied with a knowing grin. Blake was a 19-year old sophomore at Eastern Commonwealth University 18 miles away, but lived there in Pleasant View and waited tables at the Ramblin' Rose. Blake was flamingly gay and had become a fun and active fixture at the regional Pride organization meetings held monthly at Miz Vivian's. Brad imagined that Blake was a lot like what Barney Finkster would have been like about 40 years before.

Five feet, seven inches tall, and blonde with dimples, piercing blue eyes and a swimmer's build, if you looked up "twink" in the gay dictionary, the four older men at the table were all certain you would probably find a picture of Blake blowing a big load. He was none of their types sexually, but they all considered the younger guy to be a fun friend, and a good advocate for the cause of trying to advance gay rights in a very conservative area, as well.

Blake put the guys' checks on the table, and then turned to Brad, "Ohmigawd, aren't you just in MOURNING too - so few shows left!"

"Oh, God, I know it!" Brad replied. "I can't believe it. You know, this place has always sort of reminded me a little of the Buenos Dias Café."

"Mind giving the rest of us a clue what y'all are talking about?" Bubba asked.

"Why, One Life to Live, of COURSE!" Blake exclaimed dramatically. Those idiots at ABC have CANCELLED the greatest soap of them all, and next Friday - FRIDAY THE 13TH, fittingly enough - is the LAST episode! Oh, I'm just SICK over it!"

The other guys teased Brad and Blake both for being fans of the long running soap, but fans they were. Brad DVR'd it and never missed it, and truly could not believe that it was coming to an end. They all talked a bit more, and then Blake started to walk away, but just then the door of the diner opened and in strolled Jody Rickman.

"Well, hey there, Jody," Bubba called, getting the attention of his and James' friend, the handsome 41-year old, goateed, furry bear, Rickman.

"Hey y'all," Jody said, grinning amiably at all four guys. "This Pride Night at the Ramblin' Rose or something?" Jody quipped in his Eastern Kentucky drawl, as he strolled over to stand next to the guys' booth.

"And don't you forget it, you big sexy bear you," Blake quipped, popping Jody on the Wrangler-clad ass with a dishtowel as he walked by.

"Oh, close your mouth dearie, or your purse will fall out," Jody shot back. But, it was not mean-spirited, Jody and Blake just picked at each other like that a lot and each knew the other meant nothing by it. Blake rolled his eyes playfully and sashayed away behind the counter. "Your take-out order's ready, hon," Blake called to Jody. Meanwhile, two members of the congregation of what had once been LeRoy Fawlkes' church were just leaving the diner.

"I swear, it's 'a gettin' so good churchgoin' folk like us can't even go out and eat supper without being surrounded by those spurns of Satan!" One blue-haired biddy exclaimed to the other, intentionally loud.

"I KNOW it, Sister!" The other biddy replied. "But, the LORD will deal with these ABOMINATIONS someday. Honestly, I NEVER!"

"Well, maybe you SHOULD sometime, it'd probably cheer you up!" Blake called out loudly, as the old ladies went out the door.

The guys all roared with laughter, but then Brad spoke up seriously. "You just tickled the hell out of me, and I LOVED the looks on their faces when you had the balls to say something back. But, I swear, Blake, you'll get yourself fired doin' that!"

"Oh, honey, don't worry," Blake replied. "Susie Beth would just as soon those uppity big-church types didn't come in here anyway. She doesn't give a damn if the Ramblin' Rose is getting the reputation of being the closest thing to a gay bar this one-horse town has at times. And, she says 'ALL outcasts and misfits welcome at all times' is practically gonna be her new motto for the Ramblin' Rose anyway."

"How is she doing?" Brad asked with a smile. He had gone to high school back in the '90s with Susie Beth Hodgkinson, but they had long-since lost track of each other. Brad had not yet been in the diner during the day when Susie Beth was there since she had recently bought the place.

"Great, just busy as hell with sprucing this old place up and coming up with some new menu items. You'll have to come in for lunch one day, I know she'd be glad to see you," Blake replied.

Later, that night back at home Brad spoke up, "Oh, I almost forgot!" He said, retrieving a good-sized package out from behind one end of the sofa. "This came today, I had UPS leave it over at the Mercantile because I knew neither of us would be here at home when they ran."

"What is it?" Jack asked.

"Don't you remember?" Brad asked, grinning an evil little grin.

"You had THAT delivered over at Miz Vivian's gift shop?" He asked incredulously.

"Yup, and before you ask, no I didn't tell her what it is," Brad said with a laugh.

"Well thank GOD she didn't make you tell her," Jack said with a laugh.

"Luckily she wasn't there when it arrived," Brad said.

"It" was of course the brand new sex sling the guys had decided to go ahead and order. They were sure they could put it to good use inside between then and when the weather would permit them to possibly rig it up outside in big the fenced-in backyard for occasionally playtime out there.

"So, wanna put this thing together and give it a try?" Jack whispered sexily in Brad's ear.

"Mmm, sounds good," Brad agreed.

Later, after having put the lovely piece of sexual equipment together and hung it in their bedroom, they guys stood back for a second and admired their handiwork.

"Oh, God," Jack said. "The only thing is, if Mom comes to visit us, we'll have to make sure she doesn't come back here for anything, or we'll NEVER live this one down!"

It wasn't that Alice Albertson would make a disapproving or prudish comment about the sling. Knowing her, she'd be much more likely to say something along the lines of "Gee, that looks fun!" or "Hmm, now THAT, I've never tried!" and thus embarrass the guys to death in the process.

Brad chuckled, "NO, I don't want to think about her reaction to this. Luckily, it is easy to take down and store away when not in use."

"Told you, we'll just hang a potted fern or two from those reinforced hooks in the ceiling when we don't have the sling hooked up," Jack quipped.

"What, are you wanting to turn this into the Jungle Room like Elvis or something?" Brad shot back.

"Thank ya, thank ya very much," Jack said, swiveling his hips.

"Mmm, don't thank me 'til later, big guy," Brad said with a laugh.

They hugged, then kissed, then quickly got very hot and got each other very naked. "Ready to try it out?" Jack asked with a grin, as they both stood naked and rock-hard next to the bed, admiring their new toy where it was suspended over the floor space in between the foot of the bed and the opposite wall.

"Sure, but are you sure you want to get in the first time around?" Brad asked.

Jack climbed into and laid down in the sling in response to that. Brad helped him get situated, then stood back and audibly gasped at the hot site of his big stud cop all laid back in the leather sling, his legs spread-eagled with his feet suspended up in front of him to perfectly reveal his tight pink hole. "FUCK!" Brad said simply.

"PLEASE do!" Jack quipped. His cock was already leaking, he was loving being vulnerable like this and was more than ready to get pounded from this angle as well.

Brad quickly lubed his throbbing fat cock and his stud's hot hole, then lined up his cockhead at Jack's backdoor as he stood between Jack's suspended legs. "Ready?" Brad asked coyly as his dickhead rubbed Jack's pucker.

"FUCK ME!" Jack demanded in his bad-cop voice.

Brad just plunged right in balls deep at that, and held it there, causing Jack to groan in pleasure and just a little pain as well. "Don't forget who is in charge now, boy," he challenged sexily.

"Sir, yes sir," Jack said, playing along. "I meant to say, 'fuck me, PLEASE' sir."

"That's - MORE - LIKE - IT!" Brad said playfully, thrusting his hips and fucking Jack to punctuate each word.

Soon sweat was rolling and they were both moaning and groaning with pleasure, their bit of light S&M roleplay forgotten in favor of just how damn good this position felt to them both, courtesy of their new sling.

"Oh - GOD! - BRADLEY!" Jack gasped. "FUCK! You're - UH! AH!!! OH MY FUCKIN' GOD! OH!!! YES!!!" Jack was moaning and gasping now. "I think you're hitting places - UH! You never have! FUCK THIS IS - Uh! GREAT!"

"OH YEAH!!" Brad grunted in reply, standing there and fucking Jack even harder. "Ugh! THAT ASS IS SO - UH! - FUCKIN' HOT, Jack!!!"

Soon it was over, and Brad had unloaded a huge wad of jizz inside of his big studly cop. Jack had shot so hard that not only was his furry chest covered, but there was also a strand of cum running down the wall behind where his head was resting as he laid back in the sling. They both agreed that their new toy was going to be a whole lot of fun!

The following day, Thursday, January 5, found Channing still just one step behind Stokes. He had now figured out the disguise and alias Stokes was currently using, and had updated the Federal authorities. They were, in turn, pissed that he had thought to question the staff of the Pleasant View Tavern Inn before they had thought to do so, and even more pissed that he had taken the Pleasant View P.D.'s own Detective Mary Lou Tanner along as a jurisdictional representative.

But, even if the FBI was miffed about being upstaged by a "local yokel" police detective and an Aussie, no matter. The fact was, this was a major break and Channing felt like they would finally catch up to Stokes this time. The hotel staff had provided a thorough description of Stokes' current appearance.

Channing had gotten in touch with a contact of his in Britain who had in turn managed to trace the card that Stokes was using for his latest alias to an account based there. This was done by finding a link where Alias Number 2 and transferred money to Alias Number 3. Unfortunately by the time Channing and Mary Lou had put this all together, Stokes was already checked out of the hotel and apparently out of town, since the P.D. had searched and found no further sign of the fugitive.

"You sure it is still OK for me to be off tomorrow, Chief?" Jack asked that evening. He was in the briefing room at the station, along with the Chief, Justin, Mary Lou, and Channing.

"Yes, of course, Jack," Chief Morganfield replied. "I hate to say it, but I think we've seen the last of Stokes here in Pleasant View. Well, let me re-phrase that - I wish we had caught his ass before he got out of town, that is!"

"Well, thank you, mate," Channing said to the Chief, and then shook hands with them all. "We'll find him yet I reckon, but I think you are right in that he has probably left this area. I'm hoping the authorities will be able to trace him before he hops his next flight or otherwise goes underground somewhere else in this region."

"Well," the Chief said slapping his Aussie counterpart on the back, "It seems to me like you've had a hell of a lot more luck tracking him so far than they have!"

"Well, thank you," Channing replied. "I expect there's not much more any of us can do tonight. Along those lines, could you recommend a good place of lodging in the area?"

Jack explained about Brad, and about Brad's position at Miz Vivian's B&B, and within an hour, they had gotten Channing settled in there. Brad and Jack joined the fascinating Australian and Miz Vivian in the drawing room of the mansion for tea before dinner.

"I swear, y'all Australians have the sexiest accents I have EVER heard," Miz Vivian gushed.

"And you, my dear lady remind me of Scarlett O'Hara each time you speak," Channing smiled back.

"Aww, fiddle-dee-dee!" Miz Vivian quipped, and they all laughed. "And you, sir are the plumb spittin' image of Sir Sean Connery, if I do say so myself!"

"I cannot believe you do not have a lady in your life," Miz Vivian ventured.

"Well, as is the case with your friends here, I am gay," Channing replied evenly.

"Oh, I beg your pardon," Miz Vivian said, hoping she had not offended Channing by automatically assuming he was straight.

"Oh, no need. Brad and Jack were telling me on the walk over here about all you are doing to help gay rights in this area. I commend you for it," Channing replied.

"Thank you, Inspector," Miz Vivian replied sincerely.

Channing made a wave of the hand, "Please, call me Dan," he said. "And thank you all so much for your hospitality. I hope to visit here again in the future under much happier circumstances. For now, this will serve as a good base for me as I seek to help the authorities find Stokes - assuming he may still be in Kentucky."

"Well, I hope you catch the foul bastard! Deserves to be shot right in the balls, anyone that would force himself on another man," Miz Vivian said testily.

Brad and Jack soon told Miz Vivian and Channing goodnight, and headed back across to their own house to fix dinner.

"He sure is a handsome old devil, isn't he?" Brad asked with a grin.

"Yup, and even plays for our team," Jack said, chuckling.

"Hmm, who do we know who is around 60 and could use a good man?" Brad said.

"Hi, y'all!" Barney rasped just then, as he turned the corner, taking his tiny toy poodle for an evening walk on her pink leash with matching rhinestone-encrusted pink collar.

"Evenin', Barney," Jack replied with a smile. "You headin' over to see Miz Vivian?"

"Yeah, thought Fifi and I would go see her for a few," Barney confirmed. "Have y'all figured out when the weddin's gonna be yet? And, yes, I said WEDDIN'! Just because the jackasses haven't made it legal yet don't mean you can't call it what it is!"

Brad and Jack chuckled, and Brad spoke, "Well, thank you Barney. And no, not yet, we haven't, but you'll be the first to know, and you know we appreciate in advance everything that I know you will do to help us out with it."

"Well, that's me, always the bridesmaid, never the bride!" Barney said with a laugh. "But, wedding planning always cheers me up, and I need something to cheer me up - I cannot BELIEVE that our STORY is ending next Friday - I'm just SICK about that! And did you SEE today's show? Ohmigawd, I think that crazy Alison Perkins has done gone and shot our girl Viki!!! Hey, you know, maybe we can have a last episode get-together over at Viv's next Friday!"

"Yes, I'm mad and unhappy about One Life getting cancelled too," Brad agreed. "But, I know something else that will cheer you up though, Barney. There's a handsome man that looks like a cross between Sean Connery and Kenny Rogers - well, Kenny before he had that gawdawful plastic surgery that is - over at Miz Vivian's right now," Brad said.

"Oh, lordy!" Barney said with excitement. "Come on, Fifi! Girl, we have another reason besides it being cold out here to get our asses on over there. Later, ya'll!"

Barney and Fifi dashed across Crabapple Street as Brad and Jack, still chuckling, headed on into their house.

Brent Stokes was in Rosemont that Thursday night. He had decided to check into a sleazy motel on the bad Northeast side of town, using cash, and to just try to lay low and figure out his next move. The only problem with that was that he was angry. Angry and horny. Someone needed to pay another part of the debt that Stokes, in his twisted mind, believed the world still owned him.

Had he not been forced to leave Pleasant View in a hurry, he had planned to find and fuck an asshole who had refused to give him the time of day back in college. He would have fucked the bastard one way or another, but now that was out. He decided to take a crazy chance, and head out to a bar to try to find his next unwitting victim. He hoped the dark glasses and cap would be enough to keep him from being recognized, but after all part of the thrill was the risk, wasn't it?

Barney had visited with Miz Vivian, and flirted with Chief Inspector Dan Channing for a while that evening. "You should go up to Rosemont to The Broken Spoke with me tonight, Dan," Barney encouraged. "They have the best drag show around, and on Thursday night's the place is always hoppin'!"

"I'd better not, need to head on to bed so I can get an early start in the morning, but thank you just the same, mate," Dan had replied with a grin. Barney had left Fifi with Miz Vivian, her usual dog-sitter, and had headed off to go have a fun night at the gay bars up in Rosemont.

"Guess it keeps him young, running around like that," Miz Vivian had told Channing as she petted Fifi once Barney had left.

"He seems like a kind man, and like me I imagine he finds it hard to believe he has been on the planet for six decades already," Channing replied with a smile.

"Aww, hell, I'm three years away from seven decades myself, and I still feel like a teenager!" Miz Vivian said. "But don't you dare tell anybody I just inadvertently told you my age, or I'll have to come to Australia and whip you!"

Dan Channing laughed heartily at that. As Brad and Jack cuddled on their couch and watched TV, both Barney Finkster and Brent Stokes were on their way to the same gay bar up in Rosemont, along with many others, on that cold, dark January night.