All posts by Hunter Perez

Dear Mr. Cop – Part 04

By Hunter Perez

The morning sun illuminated the hotel suite, giving the space a bright golden hue. John looked at his wristwatch and saw it was a little before seven. He quietly crawled out of bed and quietly moved to the windows to draw the curtains and darken the room.

John left Lucas alone in the bed, but Lucas was unaware of this – he fell into a deep sleep a few hours earlier, with the slightest of smiles resting on his lips. John sat the edge of the bed and gazed at Lucas, his inner thoughts in combat between exhilaration and panic. The night with Lucas went far beyond the Mr. Right Now encounters he enjoyed in his weekend sojourns, and the last thing that he wanted was to lose the sensation he experienced. But his repeated thoughts of having Lucas as his personal prisoner continued to resonate. He feared being rejected if he broached the subject to Lucas, but he also reminded himself the subject was planted and cultivated in the letters addressed to “Mr. Cop” – the scenario was not of his creation, even though he wanted to see it through.

“I’ll lock you up and throw away the key,” John thought as he studied Lucas.

Continue reading Dear Mr. Cop – Part 04

Dear Mr. Cop – Part 03

By Hunter Perez

John needed a plan where he could introduce himself to his neighbor without overtly addressing the pleas in the letters he received. He decided to fall back on a routine that he carried out for years – each summer, he would share the heirloom tomatoes that he grew in his backyard with his immediate neighbors. He figured this would not attract any unusual attention from the elderly folks who lived around him, as they became used to that annual routine and, thus, would not think it odd that he would suddenly choose to visit with the object with attention.

However, time and weather were not his allies. It rained heavily during the days he was off from work, which kept his blond neighbor inside and out of sight – but when the weather was bright and sunny, John was stuck doing double shifts that brought him home exhausted in the early hours of the day.

Continue reading Dear Mr. Cop – Part 03

Dear Mr. Cop – Part 02

By Hunter Perez

The following day, John was asked to work a double shift because one of his fellow officers became ill. He didn’t get home until after midnight, but by then the lights were out at the home of his mysterious blond neighbor. The day after that, another officer became ill and John was pressed into another double shift. Again, he came home too late to catch a glimpse of the neighbor.

On that second night, another lemon yellow envelope addressed to “Mr. Cop” was among John’s mail. He tossed aside the magazines, catalogs and bills that accompanied the letter and tore open its envelope.

“Dear Mr. Cop,” the letter began. “Since I found the courage to contact you, I wanted to share my dreams about how our life together could unfold in a captor and captive relationship.”

Continue reading Dear Mr. Cop – Part 02

Dear Mr. Cop – Part 01

By Hunter Perez

John was a handsome 30-year-old who lived in a small Connecticut town near the Massachusetts border. He resided in a large Victorian home where he was raised. His parents passed away a few years earlier, and he had no immediate family.

John worked as a police officer in another small town several miles from where he lived. He enjoyed his work and had no problems dealing with public – in fact, he was uncommonly kind and holistic when helping people facing all sorts of tumult. But he took no aspect of the job home with him – not the stress of a police officer’s daily routine, nor the camaraderie of being part of a police force. He was cordial with his co-workers but not familiar – he politely declined their invitations to socialize once he was off duty.

John preferred to live alone and keep to himself in his private time. By choice, he had no close friends, nor did he rue his solitude. He savored his time away from others, to the point that he created his own home gym so he wouldn’t have to be bothered with people while he sought to keep himself in shape.

Continue reading Dear Mr. Cop – Part 01

A Left Turn at Albuquerque Continued – Part 10

By Hunter Perez

After the back-to-back craziness of Nicky and his pals plus the O’Dwyer incident, the prison went into lockdown. We had no idea how long it would last – Patterson told me the warden returned from his trip and ordered an indefinite confinement period there was an investigation into how Nicky and his fellow intruders broke into the prison and took guards as hostages, as well as a probe of how O’Dwyer managed to get his hands on dynamite and a horse-drawn wagon that he packed with his fellow prisoners.

Patterson and Charleson spent a great deal of time during the lockdown outside of my cell, speaking with myself and Zeb through the iron bars. Both were deeply appreciative of how we subdued the intruders, and they brought us items to keep us distracted while we were confined – magazines, blank notebooks and pens, cookies, candies and thickly packed sandwiches. The Jones boys also came by the cell to express their thanks for rescuing them, and when we began to converse I realized that my opinion of them was completely wrong – they were not dull and indolent, but were charming and unexpectedly funny once you got to know them. They shared their dissatisfaction with their work and confided they were looking for opportunities elsewhere. They also asked if Zeb and I could give them boxing lessons once the lockdown was over.

Continue reading A Left Turn at Albuquerque Continued – Part 10

A Left Turn at Albuquerque Continued – Part 09

By Hunter Perez

Holmgren walked me through unfamiliar corridors within the prison, and as we journeyed I began to develop a very bad headache. I don’t know if it was from the whiskey or if it was a crash from the adrenaline rush I felt in subduing the intruders, but the pain came on quickly. Holmgren had been talking, but in my discomfort I stopped listening to him – which I didn’t realize until he repeated a question twice without my generating an answer.

“You don’t look good – what’s wrong?” he asked.

“I feel like I’m having a migraine headache,” I said. “Do you have aspirin?”

“I don’t think it’s been invented yet,” he said. “But I have something in my kitchen that can make you feel better instantly.”

We walked out into a section of the prison grounds that I didn’t recognize. There were several small stone buildings and a few wooden sheds. A strong wind brought the scent of horse manure that betrayed the presence of the prison’s stables, which Holmgren pointed out to me.

Continue reading A Left Turn at Albuquerque Continued – Part 09

A Left Turn at Albuquerque Continued – Part 08

By Hunter Perez

Once we were inside the prison, I calmed down. Charleson and Patterson put me back on my feet, and I apologized to them for creating a commotion. Patterson ordered Charleson to return to Holmgren, then he unlocked my handcuffs and walked me back to my cell.

“Sorry we had to be rough on you, son,” Patterson said softly. “I don’t like hurting good people.”

“It was my fault, Sir, and I deserved it,” I said. “You and Private Charleson would be justified in submitting a conduct demerit over how I behaved.”

“I doubt the private will do anything of the sort,” Patterson replied. “And if he did, you have to remember that I am the one who approves and rejects those reports. I don’t see any conduct demerits in your future.”

When we reached the cell, Patterson assured me that Holmgren will able to solve whatever situation was taking place, and he thanked me for being concerned about the lieutenant’s safety. The opening and closing of the cell door awakened Zeb, who was sleeping naked in the middle of our bed. He blinked at me through half-asleep eyes and rolled himself to the edge of the bed, freeing up space for me to join him. While I wasn’t the least bit sleepy, I nonetheless rested next to Zeb.

Continue reading A Left Turn at Albuquerque Continued – Part 08

A Left Turn at Albuquerque Continued – Part 07

By Hunter Perez

Anyone who complains that I talk too much should spend an hour with Harry – he speaks at supersonic speed while weighing down his verbiage with a grab-bag of labored colloquialisms, off-tangent trivia and an endless supply of melodrama. I debated whether to share his story in its verbatim form, but I could not justify replicating the torture I experienced as his audience and, thus, I will offer the no-frills abbreviated version of his tale.

Harry worked in the finance office of a defense contractor based in New Mexico. He landed the job after graduating from college and remained there for a dozen years, with only a mild promotion in position and pay during that period – although he was insistent on thanking the company for covering the tuition costs so he could complete his graduate studies. As he was going into his thirteenth year with the company, he said that he uncovered some financial discrepancies he considered to be significant. He made some informal inquiries within the company but was unable to secure a satisfactory explanation regarding the final destination of the money in question. He approached his superiors about the matter, explaining at great length what he discovered.

“I was under the impression this would help raise my standing in the company,” he recalled.

Continue reading A Left Turn at Albuquerque Continued – Part 07