This is a fictional story dealing with love and consensual sexual activities between males. If you are not of legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by homosexuality and/or homosexual themes, leave this site now.

The author retains all rights to this story. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the permission of the author.

Note: I owe a special thanks to Robb for doing the final proofreading and catching all those silly little errors I missed.

If you like the story, I'd appreciate hearing from you.  Send your comments to Jeff Allen (jeff_allen15@hotmail.com).

THUNDER IN THE NIGHT
by Jeff Allen

CHAPTER 10

All eyes were on Luis as he began to speak. "I have seen this man in town. He was with another. They looked at Paul's car in a strange way, and so I remembered them."

Both Deputy Malone and Agent Napier spoke at once, "When did you see him? Where was it? Can you describe the man he was with?"

Malone's and Napier's attention was focused on Luis. I watched him look up and meet their gazes. There was something different about Luis. Just a moment ago, he'd been afraid to call attention to himself. Suddenly he looked confident. Like he knew exactly what he was doing. I prayed he did.

"I saw the men two days ago when Paul and I stopped for coffee at McDonalds before going to San Diego. I remember them because they looked at Paul's truck in a strange way. It made me nervous."

Napier took charge, "What did the other man look like? Can you describe him?"

"He was Anglo. About the same height as Deputy Malone. He was not as big as the deputy. He had brown hair with some white in it. His hair was not short but not long. Let me get a paper, and I draw a picture of the man for you."

Luis got up and went into the computer room/office. He returned moments later with some paper and pencils. He sat down at the table and proceeded to draw a detailed sketch of the man he'd described. The kid was talented. My drawings look like stick figures. His sketch was professional quality.

As Luis' sketch neared completion, Napier became more and more excited. I even thought I saw a thin smile on his face.

"This is very helpful, Mr. Ebanez. I'd like to have you come down to the Sheriff's Office to look at some photographs."

"When?"

"I'd like you to come down as soon as possible. We can drive you to the office right now and then have a deputy bring you back out here when you're done."

Luis looked up at me. Clearly he wasn't happy with the idea of being alone at the Sheriff's Office.

I stepped in. "If you can give us a few minutes, Agent Napier, I'll bring Luis down after we get cleaned up a little. We had just finished breakfast when you drove up."

"I don't want to put you through any trouble, Mr. Nichols." The sudden change in Napier's demeanor was amazing.

"It's no trouble. I was going to go into town this morning anyway."

Malone told us where to go at the Sheriff's Department, and then he and Napier left.

Once their car was safely down the driveway, I turned to Luis and said, "Just what is going on?"

"Paul, the man in the photograph was one of the coyotes. When I recognized him, I thought of a way to get the information to the police that the other man was here in Santa Teresa. I drew a picture of the other coyote, the one I saw at the McDonalds. Now the sheriffs will know who to look for."

"Luis, I'm not sure this is a good idea. What if Napier or one of the sheriff's deputies starts looking into your background? I don't want you to be sent back to Mexico, and I don't want Juanita to get in trouble for helping you."

"I have to do this thing. I cannot turn my back on the man who murdered ten people. He will do it again. And what about the sheriff man that I saw that night. He is what you call a 'bad cop', no?"

"Yes." I lowered my head. I knew what he was saying. I was proud of him, but I was afraid for him as well.

"Paul, in México the police, los Federales, have many 'bad cops.' It is supposed to be different in this country, no? How can it be different if I know about a 'bad cop' and do nothing. I must do this thing. Mac would want us to do this thing, no?"

"Yes, but it still scares me."

"I have fear also." He stood up. "Come, let us go to the Sheriff's Department."

We didn't say much to each other as we finished cleaning up the breakfast dishes and ourselves. Likewise the drive into Santa Teresa was almost silent.

There were expecting Luis at the Sheriff's Department. Once he identified himself to the deputy at the front desk, we were immediately ushered up stairs to the Detective Division. Napier and two other men were there. I recognized both of the others as detectives who'd been out at the scene of the massacre. They settled Luis into a chair and started bringing books of mug shots out. Luis settled in to looking at the unending photos of convicted felons.

After about an hour, Napier went out for some coffee. He even offered to get some for Luis and me. For a second I thought the man had remembered his manners, but then I realized that he wanted something from Luis. None the less, I accepted the coffee. Hey, I needed the caffeine. Watching Luis turn page after page and shake his head was sort of mind numbing.

Forty-five minutes later I was almost done with the acrid coffee when Luis pointed at one of the mug shots. "This is the man I saw."

Napier clapped Luis on the back, "Way to go, kid. That looks just like the picture you drew for us." He turned to one of the deputies. "Run the record on this guy, will you."

"I'm on it." The deputy hustled out of the room.

I looked over at the mug shot. It was obviously the same guy that Luis had sketched back in my kitchen.

Having made a tentative identification, Luis's usefulness to the cops was over. We found ourselves standing in the parking lot outside the Sheriff's Department less than five minutes later.

On the way back out to Rancho del Abuelo I complimented Luis on his drawing abilities and asked if he'd ever had any art training. He said that he'd always liked drawing, but he'd never gotten any formal instruction in art. I decided right then that when we got back to San Diego, we'd go to an art supply store and get him outfitted with some sketch pads and pencils and then see about some private lessons. The kid had real talent. The more I learned about him the more special he was becoming to me.

Back at the house, Luis put together some sandwiches for lunch while I called James Padgett in San Diego to fill him in on the latest developments and to check on the progress of the Central Bank installation. James assured me that everything in the office was going just fine without me being there. He was also impressed that Luis had found a way to identify the second coyote for the police without exposing himself as an illegal alien.

After lunch I called Alton Stout to see how he was recovering from his burns and bruised ankle where his horse had stepped on him while we were trying to load her into Mac's trailer the day before. Alton relayed that the burns weren't much of a problem, but that the ankle was still sore and swollen. Juanita had been after him all day to see a doctor about it.

"I love that woman, but she can be a pure pain in the neck when she gets a notion in her head like this. I think I'll go to the doc just to get her off my back."

"I'll go over to Mac's this afternoon and make sure the horses are all fed. That way you won't have to worry about being stepped on again."

He laughed. "Damn it, Paul, you're as bad as Juanita. Give me a break."

"You go to the doctor, and make sure Boots didn't already give you a break, and I'll take care of the horses. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

We hung up, and I went to look for Luis.

He was paddling around in the pool. I watched his graceful form as he practiced various strokes. My dick started to harden as I stripped out of my clothes and joined Luis in the pool. We played around splashing and chasing each other. Our playing degenerated into a game of "dick tag" and it wasn't long before we were locked in a tight embrace with our erect phalluses pressed against one another. I helped him out of the water, and we made love right there on the pool deck using some sunblock lotion for lube. Luis arched his back to meet my thrusts as I drove my tool into his love canal. We came at the same time with Luis' semen shooting up between our entwined bodies and my load emptying into the hot, dark reaches of his rectum.

Afterwards we took a long shower gently washing the chlorine, sunblock, and cum from our bodies before curling up in bed and taking a long nap.

When I woke up Luis was already out of bed. I rolled over and looked at the bedside clock. I was nearly five o'clock. I needed to get my lazy ass out of bed and go over to Mac's to check on the horses like I'd promised Alton.

I pulled on some clothes. Luis was working in the kitchen putting meat and vegetables into some sort of wonderful, garlicky smelling marinade.

"I need to go over to Mac's to check on the horses. Do you want to ride over with me?"

"No. I'm working getting the dinner ready for tonight. We will have fajitas. Tell Mac to come over and help us eat them, no."

I laughed and kissed him on the back of the neck while giving his shapely jean covered ass a quick goose. "I think you have the 'hots' for Deputy Campbell, no."

He turned his head and kissed my cheek. "He is a 'hot' man. I am not the only one who think so, no?"

I winked at him as I went out the door.

Mac was just starting to feed and water the horses when I arrived. He had changed out of his deputy's uniform and was dressed in a pair of worn jeans and an old shirt with the sleeves torn out. The muscles in his arms bulged as he carried the heavy bucket of feed over to the horses.

I pitched in and helped him finish. I repeated Luis's invitation to eat dinner with us. He accepted.

He offered a cold beer. I accepted.

We sat on the porch and sipped the cold brews. Neither one of us said anything for a long while.

Finally I broke the silence.

"How was your day?" Lame way to start a conversation.

"Man, it was a real bitch. I picked up a couple of drunks first thing in the morning. They'd been chugging 'em back all night long, and one of them puked all over the back seat of the patrol cruiser on the way to the jail. It took me most of the rest of the morning to get the car cleaned out. You can still smell the vomit even with the windows open."

"Does that happen often."

"Enough that I don't get sick anymore when some drunk ralphs in the back of the cruiser. Say, word's going around the Department that you and Luis linked the body in your barn to another bad guy."

"Ah...yeah. Napier showed Luis a picture of the dead guy, and Luis remembered seeing him and this other dude together."

"I hear Luis drew a picture of the guy that was a dead ringer for the mug shot. It sure made Napier a happy camper for the rest of the day."

"I was amazed. Luis's drawing was pretty darn good. He's got talent. I can't even draw a straight line with a ruler."

"I know what you mean. I can't draw worth squat. Napier thinks this might be the break in the case. The guy in your barn was a known coyote. From what I hear, the guy Luis i.d.'ed is a real bad one."

"Mac, is there any possibility that these guys are connected with the murder of those ten Mexicans last weekend?"

"That's the current thinking. If we can locate this Pete Allman character, the case might be solved."

"Is that the guy's name?"

"Yeah. He's a real bad customer. His arrest record spans everything from marijuana possession to murder."

"Mac, do you think this guy Allman and the dead man, Estrada, could have had some inside help with running the illegals?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if they had another partner? Someone in law enforcement who could have tipped them off about where INS and Border Patrol would be looking on any given night."

"Paul, that's crazy. You've been watching too many cop dramas on TV."

"Why do you say that?"

He stood and paced around on the porch. "Because I just can't imagine a cop being involved with something like this."

"It's not just on TV, Mac. You hear about crooked cops all of the time. For crying out loud, you can pick up any newspaper and read a story about some police officer somewhere being involved with something illegal."

"What do you mean? You think all cops are 'dirty'?"

I stood to face him. "That's not what I mean, and you know it. I think you're over reacting here."

He moved closer and brought his face close to mine. I could see the anger in his eyes. "Me over reacting? I'm not the one who's making false allegations. I think you're over reacting."

"Maybe I am. I guess I just got a little emotional. I'm sorry, but I'm not used to finding ten men slaughtered on my land and a couple of days later having my barn burned down with a dead body inside. Excuse me, I think it's time I went home."

I turned to leave. He grabbed my arm and twisted me around to face him. Mac was five inches taller and outweighed me by thirty-five pounds. If it came to a fight, I was dead meat.

"Don't you just walk away from me."

I brushed his hand off my arm. "What are you going to do? Arrest me? Put handcuffs on me?" As I was trying to act with bravado, I was thinking, 'Damn, I really need to learn how to control my mouth.'

"Because."

That wasn't the answer I expected. "Why because?"

"Because I'm sorry I got angry. I'm not mad at you. Believe me I could never be mad at you."

"Well, that was a good imitation then. I still think I'd better leave."

I turned again to leave, and he grabbed my arm again. This time he pulled me around and in to his chest. My nose was pressed against the side of his neck. I could smell the beer, the horses, and his sweat. I could feel his hard body pressed against mine. The combination of senses made me weak in the knees.

He pulled away and looked down at me, his blue eyes shining in the twilight. "I'm not mad at you. I'm afraid for you."

Suddenly his mouth was on mine. His scent was overpowering. If that wasn't enough, I could feel the beginnings of his arousal against my stomach. His tongue probed my mouth. I yielded.

We sank to the floor of the porch scrambling to unbutton our shirts and pants without breaking the kiss. My hand pulled the front of his briefs away and grasped his throbbing hardness. I gasped as his fingers closed around my prick. He spread my precum over the head of my dick and brought his fingers over the slick surface with every stroke. Still we hadn't broken the kiss.

We jerked each other furiously. His body stiffened as his long, thick erection erupted between us. His hot cum coated my hand and his hard stomach. I felt my own climax begin to build. It seemed to come from the very center of my being. I exploded into his hand as he stroked me faster and faster.

We separated and lay gasping next to each other on the porch. A wave of guilt swept over me. Fidelity had always been a big thing for me. I'd always been the faithful one while my previous partners had cheated. The relationships ended when I discovered their perfidy. Now I was the unfaithful one. What about Luis. He was sweet, gentle, intelligent. I was growing to love him in the short time we'd been together. But Mac, Mac was a walking wet dream.

I had to get away from him or I'd never want to leave.

I got up, pulled my pants up over the cum dripping off my dick and belly, and literally ran for the Tahoe.

Mac called my name, but I slammed the big SUV into gear and floored the gas pedal. I needed to get away.

I had just ruined everything.

(To be continued)