Date: Mon, 2 May 2016 19:07:47 -0400
From: Robert Costic <robertcostic@gmail.com>
Subject: A Car Burned in an Alley

A Car Burned in an Alley
By Robert S. Costic

Robert Costic has written a collection of fairy tales, "Flamethrower
Fairy Tales," a novella, "Kepler's Revenge," and a collection of
aphorisms, "Lightning Words," and has translated fairy tales by
Theodor Storm and Friedrich Hebbel from German.  All are available as
ebooks everywhere.

-----

Officer Hardy spotted a burned-out car smoldering in a residential
alley.  He parked his cruiser, pointed a spotlight on the vehicle to
illuminate it in the night, and walked over.  It appeared to have been
torched.  All the windows had burst.  Hardy peered in and examined the
seats, reduced from cushions to mere steel and wire, and the trunk,
but he found no bodies.  But he did spot an ashen rag hanging out of
the fuel latch and surmised that it had been lit.

A frumpy, middle-aged man peered out the back window of his house down
at Hardy, who looked back and waved at him.  The man opened his
window.  "Did you see anything?" Hardy asked him.

"No," the man said.

"So odd," Hardy said.  "Someone torched this car and no one around
here seems to have noticed; otherwise it would have been called in to
the dispatcher.  I just happened to spot it while on patrol."

The man shrugged.

Hardy could still read the burned car's license plate, so he went back
to his cruiser, aired his findings to the dispatcher, and looked up
the license plate, which came back as stolen from a Clint Rorsch who
lived nearby.  Soon the crime scene officers and detective arrived and
took over the scene.  Hardy drove to Clint's house, a pretty
standalone house surrounded by a garden bursting full with shrubs and
flowers.

A knock on the door.

"Hello?" a slender young man wearing boxers answered, distracting
Hardy with his state of undress, although Hardy noticed an exhausted
expression in the man's eyes.

"Hello, I'm Officer Hardy.  Are you Clint Rorsch?"

"Yes," the man said.

"I wanted to swing by and let you know that I located your car.  It
was several blocks away in the next neighborhood."

"You did?" Clint asked.  "Can I get it back?"

"We're going to need to examine it for evidence.  Also, it was torched
and looks completely destroyed.  It's not going to be useable."

"Fuck," Clint said.

"You may have told another officer already, but could you just tell me
what happened?  When did you first notice that it was gone?"

"Do you want to come in?" Clint asked.  "It's cold outside and I'm not
dressed to be standing at the door."

"Okay."  Hardy stepped in.  Clint led him to the couch, where they sat
together.  Clint slouched and pulled one leg up under the other so
that his crouch was wide open, and Hardy could see some skin in the
gaping open fly.  Clint reached for his glass of chilled vodka, which
had been sitting on the coffee table.

"I'd offer some but I'm guessing you can't during office hours," Clint said.

"You're right.  That's fine."

"So, basically, my boyfriend stole it from me," Clint said.  "James
Reed.  We had a fight a couple of days ago.  He caught me having sex
with another man.  I had been seeing this other guy, Alfonso.  It
wasn't romantic between us, but Alf had been hitting on me at the gym.
He'd stare at me.  I'd stare at him.  He'd place himself at equipment
or around the weights so that we would be within eyesight of each
other, and he'd flex for my viewing pleasure.  It was ridiculous.  I
didn't play along, but he kept doing it, grinning at me the whole
time, and eventually he just came up and start talking to me.  He
asked me if I liked what I saw, and I said I did, which was true.  And
I gave in because my man would never let me top and I had been craving
it for over a year.  And Alfonso, Lord, he had a hole.  I could lick
his hole and my tongue would go right through his sphincter.  He had
baby-smooth thighs I'd run my hands along as he rode me.  That's how
James found us.  He threw Alfonso off me just as I was climaxing.  He
was in a huff and took the keys and drove away.  I haven't seen him
since."

"Where does he live?" Hardy said.

"He lives here," Clint said.

"He does? And you haven't seen him in two days?"

"No.  This should all be in the original police report.  I think
there's a lookout for him."

Hardy vaguely remembered there being a lookout that matched this
story, but so many lookouts were posted over the course of a week that
he could hardly keep track of them all.  "Does James have his own
car?"

"Yes."

"And is it here?"

"No, it's also gone."

"When did it go missing?"

"I don't know exactly," Clint said.  "At first I was upset about what
had happened.  I was thinking about James being angry at me, and at
his taking my car.  And then Alfonso left.  And I called the police to
report the stolen car.  And somewhere along the way his car was gone,
too."

"So it was gone by the time the police came and took the report."

"I think so," Clint said.  He straightened out and stretched a great
big stretch, extending his arms upward in a lazy, matter-of-fact way,
like someone who had woken up moments before, and when he did Hardy
could see every little crevice of Clint's body tense.  But then Clint
relaxed again and discreetly pulled closer to Hardy, not so close that
they touched, but so close that only about an inch of air divided
them.  Clint sighed.

Hardy he didn't hurry to get up.  He sat there, digesting everything
and looking at Clint.  He wondered whether this made Clint feel
awkward, this looking, but Clint did not seem to mind and even seem to
be inviting it in his own inconspicuous way.

"Do you have addresses and phone numbers of James' friends and
family?" Hardy finally asked.

"Yeah, a few," Clint said.  "I have them programmed on my phone.  I
could give them to you."

"Yes, that would be helpful."

But Clint just sat there, looking at Hardy, as if he expected
something else to happen.

"Are you going to get that information?" Hardy asked.

"Oh, yes, yes," Clint said.  And he grabbed his phone from the coffee
table and started reciting names, numbers and addresses to Hardy, who
wrote it all in his notebook.

"All right, well thank you for your time," Hardy said when they
finished.  "I'll be sure to be on the lookout for James and his
vehicle."

"You can stay if you want," Clint said, looking up at Hardy as Hardy rose.

Hardy looked at Clint again so as to remember him.  "I have to go back to work."

"I thought you are working," Clint said.

"I am," Hardy said.  "By the way, do you have Alfonso's address?"

Clint did, and minutes later Hardy rapped on Alfonso's apartment door.

Alfonso answered, this time wearing only a bath towel.  "Don't these
people wear clothing?" Hardy thought to himself.

"Oh my," Alfonso said.  "What do I owe this pleasure."

"Good evening.  I'm Officer Hardy.  I wanted to stop by and ask some
questions about James Reed."

"Oh, that," Alfonso said.  "Well I don't think I could be of much use
to you.  Last time I saw him was when I was riding Clint.  I'm sure he
told you all about that.  I was riding Clint hard and good, and he was
about to cum, and next thing I knew I felt these strong hands
throttling me.  When I turned around I saw him there, his face red
like a hot fire iron.  He took off with Clint's keys, and that's the
last of it."

"And what did you do after James left?"

"I left.  Not much point hanging around after that.  Went home."

"And outside of your relationship with Clint you didn't know James?"

"No.  Officer," Alfonso said, "I'm telling you, I don't have anything
to help you find him.  Now, if you'd like to stay for a little while I
could keep you entertained."  Alfonso dropped his bath towel to reveal
his fully erect cock, a sliver of precum dripping from the prepuce.

Hardy looked at it.  "Have you been erect this whole time?"

"I was playing with myself before you came knocking on the door,"
Alfonso said.  "Even lubbed up my ass.  I like to finger myself while
I'm stroking, you know.  If you wanted you could unzip, not even take
off that uniform, and come right inside me.  It'd be easy.  It'd take
just a moment."  Alfonso reached under his balls and fingered himself
to make clear to Hardy that entry would be willing and easy.

"You and Clint deserve each other," Hardy said.  "Good night."

For the next several hours Hardy patrolled the city, thinking about
the burned car.  Hardy guessed that James took Clint's card, torched
it, came back to the house, took his own car, and went to stay either
with a family member or a friend.  He looked at his notebook, filled
with addresses of people James knew, and decided to visit every one of
them.  It was growing late in the evening and the dispatcher was not
giving out any radio runs.  Hardy had the time.

He visited one address after another, looking for a car that matched
the description of James' vehicle and bore his license plate.  The
hours passed.  He cruised down the streets, casually scrutinizing all
the cars, playing Tchaikovsky on the stereo to help pass the time.  He
had done this sort of work before.  Sometimes he had success;
sometimes he did not.  He did not have huge expectations, but at about
2am he found it.  The car sat almost a block away from the address for
James' mom's house.

Hardy parked his car and walked up to the address.

A knock on the door.

A man answered, this one dressed in boxers and a t-shirt.

"Are you James Reed?" Hardy asked.

"Yes," James said.

"I'm Officer Hardy.  You are under arrest for the theft and
destruction of Clint's vehicle."

"Okay, fine.  May I put some shoes on?"

"Yes," Hardy said, and allowed James to put on some slippers.  Hardy
pulled James' right arm back and handcuffed his hand, and then he
pulled the left one back and did the same.  He escorted James out of
the house, closed the door, and escorted him to his cruiser.  "Before
I can put you in the back I need to do a quick search of you.  It'll
be less than a minute."  And Hardy began touching the inside of James'
shirt collar, his torso, the inside of the waist line of his boxers,
and the underside of the boxers.  For a moment James could feel
Hardy's breath on his neck, and then before he knew it he was let in.