Transitions by Mike Hormek - HTML preview

Chapter 1

In a dimly lit interrogation room, Jack Busby, a seasoned police officer, sits across from Investigator Reynolds from Internal Affairs. Busby looks tense, his hands clenched together on the table. Reynolds eyes him with suspicion, "Jack, let's cut to the chase. We found drugs in your patrol car. Do you care to explain how they got there?"

Jack sighs heavily, "I know how this looks, but I swear to you, I did not put those drugs there there. Someone is setting me up."

With a raised voice, Investigator Reynolds asked, "and who might that be, Jack?"

Jack leaned forward, his voice trembling, "It's one of my own, a rogue cop who has had it out for me from day one."

"And why would a fellow cop want to frame you?" Reynolds said with a skeptical voice.

Jack appeared frustrated and agitated.

"Because I caught him red-handed skimming money off the top from drug raids and dealing with the wrong people. I reported him, and ever since, he has been on my case, hell-bent on ruining my career.

"I suppose you have evidence to support those claims."

Jack responded while shaking his head, "Not yet, but I am working on it. I need your help, Reynolds. Dig deeper and find out who's behind this."

Reynolds thought, leaning back, "Alright, I will look into it, but if nothing turns up, I will charge you. "Do you understand the gravity of the situation?"

"Yes, I do understand."

"There has to be concrete evidence to support your in no... "Jack interrupted. I know my career's on the line. But I am telling you, Reynolds, I am not going down for something I did not do."

"Alright, Jack, I will do what I can. But until then, I need your gun and badge."

Jack nodded solemnly, "I understand, but promise me you will get to the bottom of this."

The room falls into a heavy silence as Investigator Reynolds gathers his things, leaving Jack Busby alone with his thoughts of possibly going to jail.

Jack is a resilient, seasoned individual with a wealth of experience from military service and law enforcement. His upbringing in Los Angeles, with a police father, instilled in him a deep sense of duty and commitment to service. Enlisting in the army at a young age, Jack's four-year tenure in various global hot spots honed his skills. It earned him recognition through several ribbons for exceptional service, including The Purple Heart for wounded in action.

Jack's transition from military life to civilian law enforcement was seamless, and his dedication remained unwavering. His ten-year tenure with the Las Vegas Police Department is a testament to his reliability and competence. Tall and imposing, with striking blond hair and piercing blue eyes, Jack carries himself with an aura of authority and confidence.

Despite his demanding career, Jack remains grounded. His Taurus nature emphasizes his steadfastness and practicality. His mother, who balanced her roles as a waitress and homemaker, instilled in him a strong work ethic and empathy toward others.

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Though Jack has dedicated his life to serving others, he has never been married, devoting himself entirely to his duties. Behind his stoic exterior lies a man driven by principles, loyalty, and an unwavering sense of justice.

Reynolds contacted Tom Kelly, the alleged rouge cop, and brought him in for interrogation.

The atmosphere was tense.

"Tom, let's cut to the chase. Jack Busby claims you planted drugs in his patrol car. What do you have to say?"

With an adamant voice, Tom replied, "Jack's making this up. He has a vendetta against me ever since he caught wind of something he shouldn't have."

"And what exactly did Jack get wind of?"

"He thinks he saw me skimming off drug money during a bust. But it's not true. I am just doing my job."

Reynolds leaned forward, looking Tom squarely in his eyes. "I don't believe you. That's quite an accusation against a fellow officer. Are you suggesting Jack fabricated this story to get back at you?"

Tom nodded while responding," Exactly. He has been out to get me ever since. This drug plant is just the latest attempt to tarnish my reputation."

"Why should I believe you? Jack has an impeccable record, but yours is not so much. It's your word against his. Jack is not one to make accusations lightly. I find it hard to believe Jack would go to such lengths without solid evidence."

"Jack is lying, plain and simple. After all, you have the drugs. And you can't prove I skimmed money. That charge never stuck. I'm telling you, Reynolds. I have worked too hard to take a fall on this.

You should focus your investigation on Jack, not me."

"That's what I am doing, Tom. If someone planted the drugs, I will find out who did it."

No one spoke; there was an eerie silence in the room.

Alright, Tom, I'll look into this further. But if you're lying to me...

Tom interrupted, "Jack has something to hide, not me."

"That's all for now, but stay close."

"I am not going anywhere."

"For your sake, Tom, I hope you are telling the truth."

It was a dimly lit alley behind the precinct. Raindrops pattered against the ground, adding to the tension in the air. Jack Busby stood, jaw clenched, facing Tom Kelly, who wore a smirk that barely concealed his nerves.

In a low, angry voice, Jack says, "You're a real piece of work, Kelly. I thought we were supposed to be on the same side."

Tom shrugged casually.

"Oh, spare me the righteous act, Busby. You know as well as I do that this game has no sides—

just winners and losers."

Jack stepped forward with a clenched fist.

"Winners and losers?" Do you call framing an innocent man a win?" Tom laughed mockingly.

"Innocent, you turned me in for skimming money. You saw nothing, pal."

"A foggy memory, perhaps?"

"I saw what I saw. You are the one who's trying to cover up the dirty deeds."

Tom stepped closer, his voice dripping with malice.

"You think you are some kind of hero.?" Hero's don't live long in this world."

"It's a corrupt business as far as you are concerned. Is it not Tom?"

"Screw you, Busby. You are just like the rest of us. Don't act like you are."

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Jack approaches Tom, fist raised.

"You are a damn snake."

Tom reaches toward his holster.

"Watch your mouth, Busby, if you know what's good for you."

Jack lunges forward. His fist in a threatening manner.

"Are you going to shoot me? I'm not afraid of you?"

Tom unbuckles his gun belt. The tension in the air crackles like lightning as Jack and Tom circle each other, fists raised. The rain falls harder, matching the intensity of their confrontation. Suddenly, Tom moves and pulls out a knife, but Jack is faster. They collide in a blur of motion, grappling to control the knife. Jack feels a sharp pain in his back as the knife makes a sweep. Jack, the stronger of the two, turns the knife around just as Tom loses his footing, slipping on the wet asphalt. Both fall to the ground, and Jack notices blood seeping from Tom's mouth as his body becomes limp. The knife penetrated deeply into Tom's chest. In the end, victory is shallow; justice is a rare commodity.

Jack, although his shoulder was bleeding, managed to gather his thoughts and called 911. It took several days before Reynolds from Internal Affairs, and a woman cop from homicide interviewed Jack.

The interrogation room, as usual, was dark. Jack was in pain but was able to get about without assistance. Reynolds and Karen Miller, a homicide detective, sat across from Jack. Her demeanor is stern as she stares directly into Jack's eyes.

"Mr. Busby, let's cut to the chase. Tom Kelly is dead, and you were the last person to see him alive, and you had his blood on your hands when you entered the ER. Can you tell us what happened?"

"Detective Miller, it was self-defense. I confronted him for planting drugs in my car and framing me, then things escalated."

"Convenient story, but let's talk about the knife. The one buried in Officer Kelly's chest. How does that fit into your self-defense narrative?"

"That was Tom's knife. He pulled it during the struggle. He took his gun off before he pulled it.

During the struggle, He cut me, and then he fell on the knife. I did not realize he knife as in him until he would not get up."

"We could find no witnesses. It was convenient that you just happened to end up on top of him."

"Look, Detective, it was not some calculated move. We were both fighting for our lives. The knife was in his hand, and I had hold of his arm when he fell. I think he slipped on the wet pavement.

Things just went south. I did not mean for this to happen."

"But you knew he was a fellow officer. You confronted him, and now he is dead. You should have called for backup and reported the incident. But you let it escalate."

"Oh sure, I should have told him to stop and that I wanted to call backup. How dumb is that?"

"I won't have any of your smart mouths."

Officer Reynolds spoke up.

"None of this would have happened but for the drugs found in your car. We have sent the evidence to the FBI lab in Quantico, and if it comes back positive for you, then you will be in a world of shit."

"I swear that was a plant."

"And you are sure it was Officer Kelly," Detective Miller said.

"He had cause. Why would anyone else do it?"

"Your story sounds plausible, but we will check all the evidence; right now, it appears you may be facing a murder charge. I suggest you get representation," Detective Miller said.

"I am innocent. It was self-defense."

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Busby contacted a criminal defense lawyer, Sarah Jennings, and Detectives Miller and Reynolds continued interrogations, probing for inconsistencies in Jack's story while they awaited the FBI results.

Several meetings with Sarah took place before they put together a defense.

Sarah sat behind her desk in a dimly lit lawyer's office, flipping through legal documents. Jack sat across from her, looking tense and anxious.

"Jack, this is a difficult time for you, but I need you to trust me. We'll get through this together."

Jack nods, his gaze fixed on the floor. "Yeah, sure. I'm sorry."

"So you confronted Tom about planting drugs in your car. You argued he took off his gun belt, and you struggled. Then he pulled a knife; you were cut on the shoulder but continued struggling. Is it accurate so far?"

"Yes, then he slipped and somehow fell on the knife."

"I believe you, but we need the jury to see it similarly."

"Do you think I have a chance?"

"You were the aggressor, but yes, we have a fifty-fifty chance."

Reaching across the desk, placing a reassuring hand on Jack's, she said, "It's okay. I have been doing this for years."

Jack looks up at Sarah, his eyes meeting hers for a moment before quickly looking away. Sarah notices the tension and quickly looks away.

"Is everything alright, Jack? You seem...distant."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Jack exclaimed," yeah, it's nothing. I'm just stressed, I guess."

"Jack, we have been working together for weeks now. Let me know if something's bothering you."

"I don't know how to say this, but... There is something between us that should not be there."

Sarah, taken aback, with her hand withdrawn, said, "what do you mean?"

Jack avoided eye contact and paused before adding, "you have been supportive, Sarah—more than just a lawyer.

"What is he trying to tell me?" she thought.

Confused but maintaining her composure, she said, "Jack, I am just doing my job. I am defending my clients to the best of my ability."

Jack looked her in the eye, "It's not just that. You've been...different. And I don't know how to handle it."

Sarah's expression shifts slightly, a mix of surprise and realization crossing her face. "I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Jack. That was never my intention."

"No, it's not that. It's just...I did not expect it. And I am not sure I can reciprocate those feelings."

Sarah waited to respond.

"It's okay, Jack. I understand fully. Let's focus on your case right now, alright?"

Jack nods, relieved to change the subject. Sarah takes a moment to collect herself before returning to the legal documents on her desk. The tension between them lingers in the air, unspoken but palpable.

"He will come around. He needs more time".

It was a dreary fall day when the Detectives called Jack back for questioning. His lawyer, Sarah Jennings, and Detectives Reynolds and Miller were in attendance. The tension in the room was palpable.

Detective Reynolds spoke first.

"Thanks for coming in, Jack. How is your shoulder healing?"

"It's a slow heal."

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"I have some good and bad news," Detective Reynolds said.

"The DNA results came back from the FBI lab on the drugs found in your car. They found trace DNA and compared it to the DNA of Tom Kelly. It was a match. We dropped the drug charges. It appears Officer Kelly planted the drugs."

"See, I told you so."

"But here is the bad news. The DA wants to prosecute you for the death of Officer Kelly."

It became clear to Jack and his lawyer that the DA would not let up, and if it went to trial, his sentence could be as much as five years, so a guilty plea.

Jack's defense lawyer, Sarah Jennings, spoke first during a plea hearing.

"Your honor, before we proceed, I would like to express my client's remorse for the tragic events. Mr. Kelly, the deceased, and the defendant, Mr. Busby, were colleagues and one-time friends.

Mr Busby allegedly saw Kelly skimming off confiscated drug money and did the right thing by reporting him, although there was no proof to the allegation. Mr. Kelly then planted drugs in Mr.

Busby's car for revenge. DNA has confirmed the crime."

Now, it was the prosecution's turn.

"While we acknowledge Jack's guilty plea and his expression of remorse, we cannot overlook that his actions directly led to the death of Officer Tom Kelly. It was not a mere scuffle; it escalated to a point where lethal force was involved. Officer Kelly's family deserves justice."

The judge spoke up.

"Mr. Busby, how do plead, and do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"Guilty, Your Honor. I never meant for anything bad to happen to Tom. I only wanted justice, so I approached him to ask why he would plant drugs in my car. We wrestled, and he produced a knife. I feel I acted in self-defense, but I understand that he would be alive if I had not been there."

Sarah Jennings spoke.

"Your Honor, Jack has been a dedicated officer for over a decade, serving his community. He has no prior history of violence or misconduct. This incident, while tragic, is an aberration in an otherwise commendable career. We ask for leniency in sentencing, considering his exemplary record and cooperation with authorities."

The prosecutor added.

"Your honor, I understand that Mr. Busby has served his community faithfully, but we cannot ignore that he provoked an incident that led to a loss of life. We, therefore, are recommending a sentence of 16 months in a minimum security facility as a result of involuntary manslaughter that both the prosecution and defense have agreed upon."

The judge responded.

"We will recess until after lunch, then I will decide."

Jack did not eat lunch. As Jack sits in the courtroom cafeteria, the aroma of food fills the air, but it only intensifies the churning in his stomach. The events of the past months replay in his mind like a broken record, each moment etched with pain, regret, and disbelief. His heart weighs heavy with the memory of the altercation with Tom, a once-trusted colleague turned adversary. The image of the knife flashes before his eyes, a stark reminder of the irreversible consequences of that fateful encounter. He never imagined he would find himself in such a situation.

Guilt gnaws at his conscience like a relentless predator, tearing at him from the inside out. He relays the events leading up to the altercation, searching for any missed opportunity and the course of action that he could have taken to quench his anger. But the truth remains unchanged: someone died.

It was time to take action. The nausea did not let up even after drinking a soda, which usually helped.

The judge enters the courtroom.

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"All rise," the bailiff announced.

"Be seated," the judge said.

After considering all the arguments presented, the court found Mr. Jack Busby guilty of involuntary manslaughter. Having accepted your guilty plea, do you understand you waived your right against self-incrimination?"

"Yes, Your Honor"

"Do you understand you waive your right to a jury trial?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Do you understand you waive your right to confront witnesses?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"While I recognize your remorse and cooperation with authorities, the fact remains that your actions resulted in a loss of life. Therefore, per the plea bargain agreement, I sentence you to 16 months in Warm Springs Correctional Center at Carson City."

Sarah Jennings sighed in relief as she had no clue what the Judge would do. His history of compliance with plea agreements could have been better.

"Thank you, Your Honor. We respect the court's decision and will ensure that Mr. Busby complies with the terms of his sentence."

Sarah bought a few days before Jack reported to prison. The weight of his guilty plea hangs heavily upon him, "Maybe I should have pleaded not guilty and gone to trial?" he thought. "Maybe Sarah's advice of the best course of action was wrong."

Jack can't shake the feeling of betrayal -not only of his fellow officer but also of his principles and sense of duty.

Sarah said she would buy his dinner as her relationship with Jack grows closer, with mixed feelings as she falls in love with him.

During dinner, Jack stares blankly at his untouched plate; the sounds of chatter and clinking cutlery fade into the background. He barely hears the words coming out of Sarah's mouth. Are you okay?"

"My mind is a whirlwind of emotions, anger, shame swirling together in a violent storm."

A knot in his stomach tightens, threatening to suffocate him with its suffocating grip. Nausea replaces hunger

He longs for relief, for a moment of respite from the relentless torment of his thoughts. But he knows that there can be no escape. No reprieve from the consequences of his actions.

"I feel like this is my last meal."

It would help if you tried something, even your salad.

As dinner draws to a close, Jack forces himself to eat and hold it down, then rises with a heavy heart.

Sarah is laid-back and has unspoken desires but manages the courage to express her feelings.

"We can't talk business here, so let's go to my place and discuss your future."

The silence was eerie as Jack sat in the passenger seat of Sarah's car, heavy with unspoken tension. The rhythmic hum of the engine echoed the turmoil in Jack's mind. Looking out the window, Jack watched the surroundings pass by in a blur. Each landmark served as a reminder of the life he was leaving behind, at least temporarily. His thoughts were confused by a whirlwind of emotions, ranging from regret to anger to resignation.

Focusing on the road ahead, Sarah occasionally glanced at Jack. She could see the turmoil etched on his face, the lines of worry and fear deepening with each passing mile as though the prison gates were just ahead. She wanted to reach out and offer some comfort, but she knew that words would be futile.

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Jack's heart sank even further as they approached Sarah's house. It was the last taste of freedom for a long time, and he could not help but feel a sense of bitterness at the unfairness of it all. Stepping out of the car, he followed Sarah into her home, the silence between them stretching like a chasm.

Sarah led Jack to a comfortable sitting area, where they sat silently. It was deafening for Jack. It offered him no solace, no reprieve from the impending reality of his fate, but for the moment, sitting in Sarah's living room, he found a sliver of peace amidst the chaos. It was fleeting, like a whisper in the wind, but it offered him a small measure of comfort amid his turmoil.

Sarah poured two glasses of wine, her heart racing with nerves and anticipation. She had been Jack's lawyer for months, navigating through the legal maze that led to this inevitable conclusion. But tonight, there was something different in the air, something she could not ignore any longer.

Jack managed to sip his wine; Sarah took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to say.

"Jack," she began, her voice wavering slightly, "there is something I need to tell you."

Jack broke out of his spell and said, "what is it, Sarah?"

"I...I have feelings for you," she admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Something more than just lawyer-client camaraderie."

Jack always suspected her feelings but made no advances. He feinted surprise as his eyebrows shot up. For a moment, Sarah feared she had made a mistake confessing her feelings. But then Jack lowered his glass and leaned forward, his expression softening.

"Sarah, I always knew you liked me, but I did not reciprocate. I never expected..."

Sarah interrupted, her heart pounding in her chest.

"I know it's complicated. I never had feelings for anyone since before I attended law school. I spent sixteen to twenty hours a day in law school, and I still struggle with learning, so I have not had time for relationships, but you have a spot in my heart. I care about you, Jack, more than I should."

There was a long silence as they sat on the couch, the weight of Sarah's words hanging heavy in the air. Then, to her surprise, Jack reached over, took her hand in his, and kissed her slightly on her lips.

"Sarah, as you know, I have never married because I have not found the right one, and of course, many women are afraid of marrying a cop. I did not know the extent of your feelings until now, and I have feelings for you too, but with my pending sentence, I don't...."

Sarah interrupted, her heart soaring at his words, relief flooding her veins. She squeezed his hand tightly, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Everything will be okay. We have to figure out what to do next."

Jack's gaze met hers, his eyes filled with longing and uncertainty.

"I don't know," he admitted, his thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand. "But for tonight, let's just be together."

And with another simple kiss, Sarah felt a weight lift off her shoulders, knowing that whatever the future held, they would face it together.

Sarah excused herself and smiled, "I have to get out of these work clothes and freshen up. Help yourself to another glass of wine."

Sarah undressed and stood naked in front of her bedroom mirror, her reflection staring back at her with a mix of uncertainty and determination.

The nipples on her well-rounded breasts hardened with the thought of being caressed in a sexual interlude with Jack, overwhelming her every thought. She reached for the bun on her hair, unleashed it, and brushed her fingers through her long, brunette hair, the strands falling messily around her face.

Tonight, she wants to shed her shy exterior and show Jack the side of herself she kept hidden away, buried beneath layers of shyness.

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With a sense of resolve, Sarah rummaged through her drawers, pulling out clothes she hadn't worn in ages. Then she came across a blue dress with shoulder straps and a split up the side resembling more of a slip than a dress. It would reveal more than usual without a bra. Without a bra and panties, she slipped it on. She could not help but feel a flutter of nerves in her stomach.

Next came the makeup, which she had not worn since she could remember. With cautious fingers, she applied a light foundation layer, smoothing any imperfections. Then came a touch of blush, adding a rosy glow to her cheeks. Finally, she reached for a mascara tube, carefully coating her lashes until they fluttered against her skin like delicate wings.

Stepping back to admire her handiwork, Sarah couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence. She may not have been the most outgoing or glamorous person, but tonight, she was determined to be the best version of herself for Jack. With a deep breath, she returned to the living room. Her heart pounding with each step. She watched Jack's expression as she entered the room.

He saw her standing there, and a look of stunned admiration crossed his face.

Sarah had to catch her breath, "well, what do you think."

"I think you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. It's an improbability like a metamorphosis from a moth into a butterfly."

A blush crept up Sarah's cheek as she smiled shyly, the newfound confidence radiating from her every pore.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

She grabbed Jack's hand and led him into the bedroom, softly saying, "I need a good back rub."

Sarah couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling up inside her. Jack was smiling.

Tonight was going to be unforgettable. It was a testament to the power of transformation and the beauty that lies within every one of us.

The following day was filled with tension, preparing for his surrender to prison. As Jack's Dad was deceased and his mother was in ill health, he gave Sarah power of attorney over his affairs. Jack then visited his mother and told her not to worry, but he had to do this. He gave her contact information and said goodbye. Jack will voluntarily surrender to the facility at Carson City.

Sarah agreed to drive him, a seven-hour trip filled with small talk.

Sarah did not do well with the parting. Jack was the love of her life, and he promised to get together upon his release. Jack also gave her an emotional goodbye.

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