♨ Ash and Urn ♨

Dust devil swept you away My recollections are all that’s left of you Swirl and sway Without me Long Beach PD | 41 | Sex Crimes Unit Multi-Verse (See Verses Page)

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Something is Off | Tate & Jade

[sweetnessandspicy]

Jade let out a heavy sigh, she could help but feel her heart lurch finding out the little boy was found all alone. Poor child, how awful and scary that must have been for him. Knowing she needed to keep her emotions in check and remain professional, she let that thought fade, for now.  She shook her head at the question about the mom, “No, she went to get something to eat but she has been gone a very long time, which kind of worries me. She has been by his side this whole time, I guess maybe she just needs to go have a meltdown alone. It happens all the time with parents and understandably so.”  She looks down at his chart in her hand and flips it open, scanning over the important details she thought Tate needed to know. “Well, he is in a medically induced coma due to the brain swelling, his liver and spleen are lacerated as well as edema and bruising on his abdomen which is indicative of being kicked repeatedly with a heavy shoe or boot, I’d guess steel toe from the markings. I’ve seen it before on victims of domestic violence.” She glances back up at him and then again to the chart. “He has some rib fractures and he was sexually assaulted. We have collected a rape kit for you with the proper chain of command. There is significant bruising and tearing along with fissures.” She clutches his chart to her chest and her eyes cast back up to the detective’s soft face. “This person or persons are an animal, they tortured this little boy and did things to him that I can’t even talk about right now. I have never seen anything so brutal in my many years of nursing. I hope you catch him and if he doesn’t make it back to jail, oh well”  She isn’t a violent person, but has so much compassion for those she takes care of that this was personal to her. She wanted that monster locked away or dead, he has ruined this boy’s life and deserves no less a fate himself in her mind. “To be quite frank, we don’t know what he is going to be like when he wakes up, if he does, that is.”

[tate-lambert-blog]

One thing was incredibly clear in this situation – it was disturbing. Of all the cases Tate had to handle the ones involving children were the hardest to swallow. He assumed that was the same for everyone around him though for his partner it was anything involving a kidnapping. There were things she kept from him but he was a detective after all. Tate would never invade his partner’s privacy but it was clear something tragic had happened to her. His own life was marred with tragedy having watched the atrocities of his father not to mention the suicide of his late wife, Fay. With his son grown and gone his life had teetered between arresting people and being the one arrested. He’d taken to using prostitutes to avoid any type of hardened relationship and justified each detail if only to avoid fixing the surmounting problems within the walls of his personal life.

Something Tate could say was when he was at work he was dedicated to each case. So much so, he and his partner had more solved cases within the Sex Crimes Unit. This was a fact that made him proud. As he stood before the nurse with all the details Tate could not help but hear the waiver in her voice. It was hard to see another human being hurt and more so when that human was a defenseless child. Michael Esposito was still an adolescent and if he survived this attack he would have to learn to live with what happened to him. It would be imperative to get him in to some form of counseling once he was well enough.

“Longer than usual?” That statement piqued Tate’s curiosity. Glancing around he hoped he spot hospital security somewhere but no luck. “We can send someone to go check on her. If she isn’t in the cafeteria she is likely in the chapel.” Living in a city this large is was not uncommon for the Latino population to be very religious. Jade was very thorough with her details and it was clear she’d been through this too many times in the past for it to flow from her with such emotion. “We will stay on top of things. This is my priority, I assure you.”

Looking around one more quick time for the mother Tate took a breath happy she was still gone. The next question was always a rough one for kin. “Since Michael is in a coma I would like to get a few pictures of his injuries if I could? I am curious, your conviction about the boots, is there a pattern of the tread perhaps?” Tate had heard the list of injuries to the boy but could not allow himself to focus on that. It was clear something terrible had occurred but if Tate spent too much time feeling bad about what happened he would lose sight of the task of finding the monster. That was the goal – to give little Michael Esposito justice.

“Well let’s hope he does because only he can give us the details we really need. The rest is like a giant scavenger hunt and not a very fun one at that. In your opinion, professional or otherwise, what do you think his chances are, Miss Davenport?” Tate needed a woman like her on his side. She was far too valuable and knowledgeable to placate with silly questions or to make her feel inadequate. Too many times had he witnessed the macho detective step in and ruin a case. That simply was not Tate’s style. “Also, maybe we can get your security to go find his mother? I need to know about the missing parent as soon as possible. So please, lead the way.” Tate gave a soft smile and tucked his note pad back in to his suit jacket.

[mynewplaidpants]

for the love of fuck

[tate-lambert-blog]

Something is Off | Tate & Jade

[sweetnessandspicy]

Jade was tired and in more ways than one. The long hours on her feet were one thing,  but the emotional toll of being a nurse wore her out too. Broken and bruised children had become more and more common to see in the Emergency Room of Mercy Hospital. She’d seen the number of cases of child abuse grow with each passing year and it genuinely hurt her right in her heart. She’d had many sleepless nights while thinking about a child and cried the other times when one lost their fight.  Having grown up in a loving and stable home herself,  she could never understand how a parent or anyone else could hurt a child. They were innocent and pure and everything good in this bleak world. She finished taking Michael’s vitals, notating in the computer system the latest stats. She let out a deep and heavy sigh, once again, a poor innocent child was used as someone’s punching bag, only they went way too far. He had so many issues working against him and more than a few times she thought they might lose him, but he was somehow still managing to hang on.  She had finished up and was on her way to the next patient when she saw the detective. She knew one as soon as she saw one, they all had this certain look about them to her. She took his hand and shook it, nodding to him. “Detective Lambert,  Jade Davenport. Yes, that is Michael in there , but I am afraid that he can’t tell you anything right now. He is in very critical shape and has given us more than one scare already.” she held out her arm and gestured for him to go into the triage room for more privacy. “Let’s go in here where it’s more private, I will try to help you all that I can as far as the extent of his injuries.” she offered, hoping he was a good detective and by that, she hoped he cared and would punish whomever did this to that boy. 

[tate-lambert-blog]

Tate headed out to Mercy without too much information. All they really had was listed on a simple one page report. The officer who’d first arrived on scene was a beat cop and Tate knew he’d have to follow up with them as well but since the boy was still alive he wanted to try and get as much as he could out of Michael just in case. There were too many times when the victim died. Even though Tate did his best to gather information and bring justice, sometimes there wasn’t enough there. Not in a city like this where everyone walked around with their faces in their cell phones paying attention to nothing but their own petty bull shit.

Arriving at Michael’s room the detective was happy to see his nurse present and accounted for. Mercy had a good staff which made it nicer considering his vic was still breathing. “Davenport you say?” Tate asked with a smile. He jotted that down in his notebook. Agreeing they should step off the floor he watched as the other nurse walked back to the nurse’s station then followed Jade into a smaller, more private area. “Thank you for taking time away from your busy schedule. I realize that you are not afforded much time for things like this so I will do my best to not waste any of it.” He flipped through his notes, focusing on the key points he’d highlighted. The number one thing was the assumption the boy had been sexually assaulted. Considering his department that is was the only reason Tate and Harper would have ever received this case.

“I have clear details about where he was found, that he was alone and unconscious at the time. His mother was located, which is how we have a name but no father?” This fact sent shivers up his spine though he did a good job hiding it. Tate’s relationship with his own father would set the course for his inability to connect with his son and even though the man understood the importance of fathers, it didn’t make it easier to bond with Tristen given their past. “Is his mother still around?” Michael was only 11 or 12. Being able to speak with his mother could help the investigation a lot but given the surname Esposito there was a chance the mother didn’t speak English or worse, was not here legally which meant she would keep her mouth shut tight if she knew the perpetrator. “Please tell me what exactly happened from your stand point so I know what we’re dealing with here.”

[tate-lambert-blog]

Something is Off | Tate & Jade

The riff building between Tate and his son, his natural recourse was to throw himself back in to work. His entire life the man found himself focusing on things where he could make an impact and completely avoiding those that made him feel as if he were failing. Tristen was one of them. His relationship with his brother, Walen, was another. The only part of his life where Tate felt there was any control was at work which was pathetic given he worked in Sex Crimes. Sometimes the cases became a joint effort with Homicide but on occasion the victim lived and Tate felt fulfilled when he was able to help lock up the people who were causing all the harm.

His partner, Harper, was working a case with another detective because his recent absence had pulled her away. Thinking he would be returning to the precinct to only catch up on paperwork he was surprised when Captain Otis asked him to take the drive out to Mercy and follow up on a hurt child. If Tate was getting the case it meant the child had been sexually assaulted or there was trauma of some sort that lead to that belief so it always weighed heavy on the man when the victim was a child. Still, he was going to a hospital and not the county coroner’s office so that was a plus.

At the hospital he identified himself to the young man sitting behind the nurse’s station. The guy looked like he belonged and rather enjoyed his work – something Tate could relate to. Smiling, Tate showed his badge and he watched as the man’s eyes dropped below the rim of his darkly framed glasses, “Right this way.” The detective followed and patiently waited as a woman emerged from behind the curtain of a room a few doors down from the station. Showing his badge again Tate quickly put it away and offered his hand to the woman who’d come out. “Detective Lambert,” he spoke pulling his note pad out from the inside pocket of his grey blazer. “Is that Michael Esposito in there?”

@sweetnessandspicy

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Horse Shit & Flies | Tate & Walen

[matt-graver-blog]

Smacking his hat against his knee as he came inside the sheriff’s office he looked over at his brother resting his eyes. Frowning at his words he shook his head, smacking the hat off his brother’s head. “It’s rude to wear your hat inside, didn’t mama teach you anything?” He mumbled glancing up at the man being held in the very small cell in the barely big enough for two desks office they called work. “You keep shouting like that old man and you’ll go right to the hanging tree.” Walen yelled over to the old man who mumbled something about taking the two men in front of him out and all they had to do was let him out. Looking over his should at Tate he shook his head, “You hear him? He’s gonna bury us brother?”

Sitting down across from Tate he glared, “I’m not looking over there for her, shut your trap.” Despite his protests he did find Zaniah stunning and very much hoped that wishing made it so and she would step out and he could lay eyes on her. “Yeah well you’re hoping the little Indian girl will too, so as I said shut your trap.” Letting out another huff and the old man in the cell started singing he rolled his eyes. “I sent it, but it ain’t immediate.  It’s gonna take a few days.” Huffing again he looked at the old man, “Keep it up and I’ll sing with you and you don’t want that!”

[tate-lambert-blog]

Tate shifted his boots off the desk at the swat of his brother’s hat. Walen was the one thing he had left in this world that didn’t exist inside a bottle. Even though he took the tongue lashing Walen would give over his excessive drinking, he wasn’t willing to lose his family again. “I’m just groggy is all. This bastard won’t shut up and someone declared last night that it was my turn to watch the place so there you have it. I got a few winks in during the, oh say, twenty minutes the old buzzard shut up? Cut me some slack Walen, it was a long night.” Tate stood and stretched his back out. The reality was he feared for his brother. Being the sheriff in Canyon Diablo was dangerous. When Walen told him about the place his first reaction was no but after Walen asked him to come out with him he felt a little better. Walen may be a grown man who’d seen war but he was still the younger brother.

It helped have James and Ryan around too. The more the merrier as they say. Tate’s mouth fell open, “What? I do not. She’s pretty but I don’t think about her like that. No, it’s too soon man.” Tate shook his head. How soon was too soon? Fay had been gone nearly a year and before that he was fighting in the war. It had been a long time since he’d known the touch of a woman. Was it too much to think he’d find a woman like Inola beautiful? She was. “My trap is shut, little brother, but believe you me, don’t go waiting till your parts are all rusty. The least you could do is talk to her. It’s all I’m saying.”

Glancing back over at Lafferty, the old geezer shut up when Walen declared he’d sent the telegram. One of two things was going to happen. Either the U.S. Marshalls were going to ride in to town and take him away or they’d be ordered to transport him to Two Guns so they could pick him up by stagecoach. Either way it wasn’t over until they got a reply which meant more long nights of staying at the office. “Well can you at least make one of the Renfro Boys watch him tonight. I really miss my bed.”

[emeryfleming]

[tate-lambert-blog]

From his service for the Union during the Civil War.

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[tate-lambert-blog]

Horse Shit & Flies | Tate & Walen

Tate was tired. They’d had a long night what with Old Man Lafferty showing up with a hunk of silver that would have choked a horse. Bickering ensued and of course fighting; now two men were dead and one was locked up in the holding cell at what was supposed to pass for the sheriff’s office. With his feet kicked up on the sheriff’s desk and his hat brim resting over his eyes Tate blatantly ignored Lafferty yelling that he had every right to kill those men. For a man in his 70’s he still had a lot of fight in him, Tate thought. As if the old man wasn’t enough to disrupt his sleep the flies were swarming too. All the horses in town making the place a right mess now that the summer months were upon them.

Hearing the thud of boots on the porch outside Tate shifted his hat just enough to spot his brother walking in the door. He was assuring the baker’s wife that things had calmed down and he caught him glancing over toward the Top Hat. “You know, brother, she ain’t going to step outside just because you will it to happen. I don’t know why you just don’t go talk to her.” Tate, of course was referring to the lovely Miss Zaniah Collins, the madam at the Top Hat brothel. As much as Walen refused to admit he found her attractive Tate was willing to tease him. It took his mind off Fay and his little girl now that they were both gone. He’d never pictured himself a lawman but after the war and the death of his wife and daughter, Walen was the only thing he had left. His brother needed him and as disgusting as Canyon Diablo was, it was now home. For better or worse. “When they sending someone for this old curmudgeon? You sent the telegram, right?”

@walen-lambert

[tate-lambert-blog]

[tate-lambert-blog]

Tate Lambert has now gone indie. See the hub at Revolucienary-Inscriptions.

[edensmiths-deactivated20181022]

From Eden || Maja & Tate

There was a table with 2 chairs by the window that Maja sat at and looked out at the view.  The curtains were wide open and a few floors up she could see the ocean the hotel was down the street from.  The sun was approaching sunset, it was dipping low in the sky and cast a beautiful orange glow that seemed to warm al that it touched. Maja closed her eyes and enjoyed it’s warm embrace while sitting comfortably in the loosely worn robe the hotel offered it’s guests.  As always, she pampered before a ‘date’ but when using the accommodations, Maja liked to do it all there as it was much nicer than her place.  She sent a text off to Tate to let him know which room and that there was a key for him at the desk then slowly rose from her seat and view. The hotel was favorable to many of the working girls because they looked the other way and were discreet, they got much business so it all was a working together sort of thing.  Her bag was on the bed, her hair and light amount of makeup was already done, she just needed to dress – somewhat.  

Men were nothing if not visual creatures and she knew it would be of great benefit if when he walked in and saw something that made his eyes pop, this was about his pleasure after all.  Maja changed into lingerie that she picked out before heading over a little earlier in the day.  It was a dark green lace bra and underwear set, but the best and her favorite part was the garter belt and stockings.  She finished it off with heels and then let her hair down from the clip she had it up in and went back to sit at the chair after she’d put her things in the closet and straightened out the bed.  Maja and Tate had a few rendezvous over time, sometimes with her going to his house but she preferred it here, it was less personal that way.  Propping her heeled feet up on the sill of the large window, she watched the sun get closer to the earth.  When she heard the door open, Maja turned her head to look past her shoulder and smiled a little at seeing Tate enter the room, “Always on time, handsome.”

@tate-lambert

[tate-lambert-blog]

Tate lacked an emotional attachment to anyone. He had loved Fay and losing her, what felt like twice, was invariably burned in to his mind’s eye. There was no way Tate Lambert was worthy of love – he didn’t even have the love of his only child and most days he still questioned his brother Walen given the man took his wife away from him. Life was just easier as far as sex went to have no emotional attachment. It was not uncommon for the officers of the Long Beach Police Department to use prostitutes. That sounds absurd when you hear it but rumors abounded that many of the patrol officers used the ladies of the night to get their rocks off.

Maja had been arrested on more than one occasion. Each time she pleaded with the officers on duty to let her go. She was a legitimate escort and had not broken any laws. Every time that seemed to work in her favor since she was released each time with no charges pressed against her. The girl had nights that seemed really drug her down, the look on her face speaking volumes about who she really was – a call girl. Maja Tomossan was a prostitute whether she wanted to admit it or not. On more than one occasion she’d asked for rides back to her apartment and the one time she caught Tate leaving he agreed. It didn’t take much conversation to get the truth out and set up a meeting. She needed to make up the money she’d lost and was beautiful. It was a win-win for the detective.

Arriving at the hotel he undid his tie as he rested his jacket on a nearby chair. “You look stunning.” Squinting at her, Tate was never good saying what he was thinking. Thoughts like why do you do this to yourself? You’re worth more than this. They always ran through his mind and yet men like him were the reason she did work like this. He was paying her for a service and a man who’d paid her for sex even once was never going to sway her in to believing she was worth more. You get treated like shit long enough you thoroughly believe you are shit.

He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed the back of his neck, kicking off his shoes in the process. No matter what he wanted there was no time for real intimacy or small talk. She wasn’t cheap and though worth every penny he simply couldn’t afford more than an hour with her. “How ya doin’ there, Maja? Life treating you good?” He’d considered on numerous occasions showing up and just talking to her for an hour but she was always wearing something that made her body far too tempting and now that he’d had it, she’d become his favorite. 

[rocknrollercoaster]

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[tate-lambert-blog]

Disarm you with a smile And cut you like you want me to Cut that little child Inside of me and such a part of you Ooh, the years burn I used to be a little boy So old in my shoes And what i choose is my choice What's a boy supposed to do? The killer in me is the killer in you My love I send this smile over to you Disarm you with a smile And leave you like they left me here To wither in denial The bitterness of one who's left alone Ooh, the years burn Ooh, the years burn, burn, burn I used to be a little boy So old in my shoes And what I choose is my voice What's a boy supposed to do? The killer in me is the killer in you My love I send this smile over to you The killer in me is the killer in you Send this smile over to you The killer in me is the killer in you Send this smile over to you The killer in me is the killer in you Send this smile over to you

@tristenwithaguitar

[tate-lambert-blog]

Time to Pretend | Tate & Tristen

[remigreco-deactivated20190221]

There was a roll of his eyes, exasperated at being referred to as Tate’s son. “Donating sperm doesn’t make you a father.” He just stared at the man. Tristen hated Tate calling him son as much as he hated being called Tate. He couldn’t remember when he stopped calling him dad, it might’ve been around the time shortly after his mother’s death and all her words started ringing in his ears. Dad wasn’t a title that Tate had earned in his mind and more importantly in his heart. Sure, there was always food in the fridge and clothes to wear but that wasn’t fatherhood. Kids at shelters got that kind of care. Tristen went from losing his mother, who showered him with love and affection to a man that was cold and distant. He felt rejected, as though he was something Tate had to do—an obligation.

“Am I being snide or am I just annoyed? I hate the way you walk in here and look at me.” His eyes half rolled as he half shook his head, a sigh might’ve escaped as well. “Like you’re on the job. It’s never a smile “oh happy to see ya”, it’s looking into my eyes seeing if they’re fucked up in some way. Are there bags under them? Are my fingers clean?” He waited for something and he wasn’t sure what. “Maybe you should switch to vice. Then think of how often we can see each other with the arrests and shit.” Tristen pushed himself off the counter, as much as he didn’t like Tate and blamed him for so much, he really didn’t want to fight. Walen had been telling him to be more open and try giving people a chance. Tristen wasn’t sure if those words included Tate. The young musician was simply closed off, he made friends easily but rarely let anyone in. It was too painful to get close.

Running a hand through his semi-messy hair and then down his face, Tristen looked at Tate with something maybe apologetic in his eyes. He smiled and crossed his arms over his chest. “I was at the charity event in Cota. Even saw you there.” His smiled faded remembering Tate looking for him. “I was wearing slacks, maybe that’s why you missed me.” Or it was like always and Tristen hit the floor when Tate walked in the building, finding crowds to hide behind and eventually stepping outside. He was tall and tattooed and women fussed whenever he came near so it was better outside, no beacon was able to alert Tate to his presence. “Too bad we couldn’t have sat and had dinner together like we… oh wait, we never really did that did we?” He looked at Tate’s tapping fingers and saw him looking around. “Stop. Just stop fucking reading everything. There’s no need for you to be a cop right now.”

[tate-lambert-blog]

Tate gave a blank stare at his son. What was worse? Telling him he cared or keeping his mouth shut? Tate was supposed to keep his mouth shut about such things. You just don’t share your feelings because they’ll only get you hurt. The older man hung his head when his son started his rant. He didn’t mean to always appear to be working. Part of the reason he was at work so much when Tristen was little was because Fay didn’t work and they couldn’t afford anything nice unless Tate put in 110%. In the end he lost Fay and seemingly Tristen. Swallowing hard before looking up at his son, Tate wanted nothing more than to just take him and hold him tight like he had that day. It was still a nightmare for both of them.

“Sperm donors don’t feed, clothe, and house their offspring. But thank you for the reference. I love being reminded what you think of me each time we see each other.” Tate kicked himself for saying it though the chances of seeing anything on his face were slim. No one had quite the poker face that Tate did. He wanted to ask Tristen if he realized that he lost something that day too but apparently it was too far a stretch for his son to understand how much he loved his mother. How painful it was having her fuck the man Tristen considered more a father. The whole situation was messed up and whether or not repair was possible was not clear to Tate. “I wouldn’t have to come looking for you if you didn’t spend so much time avoiding me. Proven by the fact that you were in Cota and didn’t bother to at least wave over the crowd.” Tate pursed his lips and stepped closer to the counter just as Tristen pulled away. “I am not being a cop right now. You’d know that if you participated in this family at all.”

The moment Tate spoke the words he knew that was going to end the conversation. “Your grandmother would like you to come have dinner with her. You think you can do that? That is the real reason I came. I mean, yes, I did want to see you were alive and well and sober, but can you really blame me for that?” Again, the verbal jousting between them was sickening and saddening at the same time. “At least call her, alright?”

[rocktunes]

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Every Rose Has Its Thorn | Poison

[tate-lambert-blog]

We both lie silently still In the dead of the night Although we both lie close together We feel miles apart inside

Was it something I said or something I did Did the words not come out right Though I tried not to hurt you No, though I tried But I guess that's why they say

Every rose has its thorn Just like every night has its dawn Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song Every rose has its thorn

Yeah it does I listen to my favorite song It's playing on the radio Hear the DJ say loves a game of easy come and Easy go But I wonder does he know Has he ever felt like this And I know that you'd be here right now If I could have let you know somehow I guess

Every rose has its thorn Just like every night has its dawn Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song Every rose has its thorn Though it's been a while now I can still feel so much pain Like a knife that cuts you the wound heals But the scar, that scar remains

I know I could have saved a love that night If I'd known what to say Instead of makin' love We both made our separate ways

But now I hear you found somebody new And that I never meant that much to you To hear that tears me up inside And to see you cuts me like a knife I guess

Every rose has its thorn Just like every night has its dawn Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song Every rose has its thorn

@tristenwithaguitar