#salinas police department

[backthebluek9]

More like the last couple years..

[arrestdujour]

Salinas, Anthony Ryan

Boise, ID

JID Number: 01143537 Age: 19 Arresting Agency: Boise City Police Department

Charge Count: 5

 Register for notification on changes to inmate's custody status.

F Possession of a Controlled Substance with the Intent to Deliver Criminal Charge $100,000.00

M Drug Paraphernalia-Use or Possess With Intent to Use Criminal Charge Included

M Controlled Substance-Possession of Marijuana Criminal Charge Included

M Arrests & Seizures-Resisting or Obstructing Officers Criminal Charge Included

IDAHO DEPARTMENT OF CORRECTIONS Hold Not Bailable

This individual will not be released from custody due to a nonbailable charge(s)

Bail Total: $100,000.00

[beardedmrbean]

PALESTINE, Texas (KETK) — Two people were arrested on Friday in Palestine after reportedly holding a woman against her will at a Palestine motel.

The Palestine Police Department said at around 2:19 a.m. on Friday, officers were dispatched to a motel in Palestine after receiving text messages from their 911 system from a woman claiming she was being held by a man and asked for help.

“The texts indicated that the victim was in the room with the male and a female who were drunk and using methamphetamine. The victim claimed she was being thrown to the bed when she tried to get up to leave and she stated she was scared,” Palestine PD said.

Officers knocked at the door of the motel room and got no answer. Hotel staff told officers that the room was rented by a woman identified as Cesilia Salinas. Salinas was wanted on felony warrants from Smith County and had a bond totaling $500,000.

East Texas minor arrested for Brookshire’s bomb threats

After multiple failed attempts to contact someone in the room, PPD Emergency Response Team (ERT) was asked to help on the case. ERT breached the door and detained three people. The police department identified them as Salinas, Amado Villanueva Gonzalez and the victim.

The victim said she tried to call 911 but Gonzalez took the phone. When she attempted to leave, he would allegedly stand between her and the door and pushed against her chest in an attempt to push her back.

The victim reportedly said Salinas was flushing methamphetamine while officers were attempting to breach the door. When officers entered the room, they found Salinas hiding in the bathroom.

Gonzales was taken to the Anderson County Jail and booked for interference with emergency request for assistance and unlawful restraint. Salina was booked on the Smith County warrants.

[mamasvetlanushka]

Stuff anymore school but in problem or just now go

Вещи больше не идут в школу, но у них есть проблемы или они просто не идут, он, вероятно, помнит, чего ты хочешь, став знаменитостью.

I'll go there's a picture you more evil prostitute kid that was a champion

Ага, ему проститутки его дороже чем я. Ничего не изменилось. А пидоров-то сколько вокруг него развелось, целый цветник и сада не надо.

Просто пошли вы все на х** вам там лучше. Здесь нет школы потому что я как учитель не получаю зарплату. И хватит морочить всем голову. То что вы со мной сделали не простительно но вы можете покаяться и признаться в содеянном и заплатить мне за мой труд. Не ебите мозги друг другу. Не писала не, вместо НЕ я писала- и ебите мозги друг другу.

моя собака хорошо спит рядом с секретами органического питания, с которыми можно повеселиться

А это ответ программы с программой и якобы ответ того кому Я обращаюсь.

Дальше оно пишет что находится на небесах. Присылает гифку о том что он не может связаться со мной и даже не в состоянии опоздать. Чтобы прийти.

Цитаты:

(Free ice cream, courtesy of the Los Angeles Police Department.

Бесплатное мороженое, от полиции Лос-Анжелеса.

From the Los Angeles office.

Из офиса в Лос Анджелесе.

The headline over the photo showing the charred skull of the house on Benefit Street is from the Los Angeles Times'.

Заголовок над фотографией черного черепа сгорев��его дома на Бенефит-стрит из лос-анджелесской "Тайме".

You didn't show up, and I knew you were in trouble.

Но вы так и не появились. Я знал, что вам плохо.

Just show up at the board of directors' meeting every few months so at least I can see you once in a while."

Приходи на совет директоров раз в несколько месяцев, я, по крайней мере, смогу хоть изредка видеться с тобой.

I bet he'll show up any minute.'

Держу пари, что он объявится с минуты на минуту.

- Enough that I showed up.

- Достаточно, чтоб я пришел.

How do you suppose I make it show up?

Как, по-твоему, я заставлю его появиться?

This is the Los Angeles Police Department.

Говорит полиция Лос-Анджелеса.

the Los Angeles Coliseum.

Колизей Лос-Анджелеса.

They stayed about an hour and left, and Popeye didn't show up again until next morning.

Пробыли они там около часа и ушли, Лупоглазый не появлялся до следующего утра.

Although advertised to appear, he did not show up.

Несмотря на разрекламированное появление, он так и не показался.

All you have to do is show up.

Тебе нужно только на него явиться.

Are you sorry I showed up?

Сожалеете, что я появился?

I showed up after the game.

Я появился после игры.

So, three evenings a week, I showed up at Aida's for my treatment."

Итак, три раза в неделю я приходил на массаж в заведение Аиды.)

Pretty slide gift card tombstone anymore

Цитаты:

(They're selling Nintendo 3DS systems for $149.99 on sale, plus every time you buy one, you get a $50 gift card.

У них Нинтендо 3ДС по 149,99 на распродаже, плюс когда ты покупаешь его, ты получаешь подарочную карту на 50 долларов.

I was hanging on to these gift cards as investments, but then half the companies went out of business.

Я рассчитывала заработать на подарочных сертификатах, но половина компаний прогорели.

The old Sventitskys were writing tags for the gifts, place cards for supper, and tickets for some lottery that was to take place.

Старики Свентицкие расписывали номерки к подарк��м, карточки с обозначением мест за ужином и билетики к какой-то предполагавшейся лотерее.

You're making my tombstone!

Вы заказываете мне надгробный памятник?

The Salinas wind would blow away a tombstone, let along a bunch of carnations.

Салинасский ветер надгробный камень снесет, не то что букетик гвоздик.

Hades carved Snow's name on a tombstone.

Аид выбил имя Белоснежки на могильной плите.

Hand me that slide.

Передай мне тот слайд.

Then he got real big into model trains, and then it was a sort of very long, sad slide into dementia, and ultimately, into death.

После он увлёкся моделями поездов, что стало, своего рода, долгим и грустным скольжением к слабоумию, и, в конечном счёте, к смерти.

- Gift cards.

- Подарочные карточки.

For a $50 gift card?

За подарочную карту на 50 долларов?

"He drank from Leonard's glass"-- the words they'll be carving into my tombstone.

"Он пил из стакана Леонарда"... эти слова будут выбиты на моей надгробной плите.

Kids, if I die, make sure I get a bigger tombstone than Ford.

Дети, если я умру, убедитесь, что моё надгробие больше, чем у Форда.

Absence severs as well as death, and if the walls of a prison were between Edmond and Mercedes they would be as effectually separated as if he lay under a tombstone."

Разлука разделяет не хуже смерти; представьте себе, что между Дантесом и Мерседес выросла тюремная стена; она разлучит их точно так же, как могильный камень.

Now all I need is a bunk bed with a slide;

Теперь мне нужна двухъярусная кровать с горкой.

Thomas, put the slides away in the right order, please.

Тома, разложите все диапозитивы по порядку, хорошо?

This stimulus spending is intended to halt the slide into deeper recession and to provide new jobs.

Эти расходы по линии мер стимули-рования призваны остановить сползание к более глубокому спаду и создать новые рабочие места.)

Confuse the corner of the time

Did you call young Morris

Я мне звонила молодому Маску. Это была случайная вневременная переписка на ещё тогда старых кнопочных раскладушных теле��онах. Каким-то образом я попала в некий чат, где ещё оказались иностранцы и это было странно. То был год до двухтысячных новых, это очень было странно. Уже после того как я закончила школу и у меня появился телефон. Это был всего один вечер и что там точно писалось, я уже не вспомню. Это такая попытка хакерства, она оказалась прямым попаданием в мой адрес. Странно что ты мне больше не написал. Также странно как и написал.

Вот за то что ты увидел меня хотя бы так и ничего не сделал в итоге через много лет вас всех и тебя заставляют со мной не иметь контактов и это намного сильнее и больнее.. как тогда моя судьба изменилась и вместо нарастающих перспектив, всё катилось к чёрту. А сейчас я не знаю чтобы меня по-настоящему могло бы успокоить и при этом я имею информацию, что никто из вас со мной так и не заговорит и все ждут когда я совершу самоубийство.

Вам мало того что вы сделали, вам ещё хочется ещё ещё хочется больше моей боли и униже��ий.

Я это говорю, для того чтобы если кто-то что-то не понимает здесь и сейчас осознал что на самом деле происходит точка маска наблюдает за тем как меня убивают. А вы все толкаете меня на самоубийство.

И больше ничего. Ничего.

3 часа 18 минут 25 августа 2024 года

031825082024

2

Фу

Мне было 17 или сколько мне было тогда.. из-за этих скачков временных, многое меняется в памяти, восстанавливается всё позже

Я сейчас вспомнила к��к в одном из моих снов видела чёрный кожаный диван и также помню как в детстве у кого-то тоже видела чёрный кожаный диван, в конце восьмидесятых годов это была роскошь. Я была в гостях у кого-то из вас богатых и знаменитых.

Тогда вы со мной не сдружились и моя семья показалась для вас слишком бедной. И вот через много лет вы решили стать на сторону врагов, которых у меня даже не было как и друзей. И я вам особенно показалось нищей и неперспективный перспективной не перспективной.

Видите, что вы не прошли мимо, вы со мной все когда-то уже встречались и по-разному, как была возможность, порой это возможность походила на сон. Но это более не сны. Это была я. Отказавшись от меня тогда, вы сейчас оказались в игре под названием "догони меня кирпич".

В чате это прописывалось, потому что я это уже говорила. Постарев на 20 лет со стабильным старением на 10.. можно примерно просчитать сколько раз за эти два года умудрились перезаписывать то что происходит.

Я хочу чтобы понимали Те кто не особо сейчас соображает в чём дело. Поэтому объясняю.

Есть одно сообщение, я его запостила в личный пост. Мне нужно было кое-что проверить и когда я увидела гифку с изображением плачущей Эмбер, стало понятно нейросетевая программа с зачатком искусственного интеллекта то есть это личинка одноклеточная которая так одноклеточными останется если смотреть Бога рассматривать напоминающего слизня по своим размерам и конфигурации, то ваше искусственный интеллект собственно говоря имеет примерный вид только в своём амплуа.. и вот он период��чески показывает этот ребёнок который никогда не родится он периодически показывает мне что есть на самом деле в ваших посылах И когда я пытаюсь найти что-то хорошее в том что есть, он мне сразу показывает то сколько плохого есть.

О чём тут ещё говорить? Покаяние и оплата моего труда.

На месте бы массы населения, которые вовлечена в эту игру и шоу, я бы пришла в этот как бы магазин и собрала всё самое необходимое для ситуации экстренного бедствия.

Вам следовало бы вступиться из-за за меня. Они прятаться за женскую юбку.

У меня был такой же коричневый свите�� лапша в школе и платье с таким же принтом, модного до сих пор фасона, свитер достался по наследству, а платье было сшито биоматерию из ткани доставшейся в подарок от кого-то.

Не очень много вижу вещей похожих невероятно но те которые я когда-то носила.

Носила в детстве и подростковом возрасте.

Можно было беречь меня ребёнком. Они рассказывать о том что я должна радовать своего внутреннего ребёнка.. вы даже не представляете о чём просить.

Сохранить мою чистоту, невинность и непорочность это была главная задача важная для вас всех. Мне это не надо об этом заботиться. Я по-прежнему ребёнок дитя, чиста и непорочная.

Это было нужно вам и сейчас у вас действительно огромные проблемы, которые раньше были не видны. Вот как ни крути но вы не благодарны. Покаяние и оплаты моего труда. Это то что нужно сделать.

03:37 2:2

93:37

3:2

Все программы создаются на основе того что крадутся идеи и мысли. Крадут ваши данные и адреса и всевозможные числовые накопления. Фактически все ваши сбережения находятся в руках мирового правительства. Это правительство анархия. Она создаёт хаос и поддерживают мошенничество чтобы было законное основание проникать в базы личных данных. Наши местные структуры специализированные такие как ФСБ и взять любую страну с такой же структурой примерной разным названием убедили.. необходимости этого шоу и игры когда меня 24 часа в сутки слушают и наблюдают.

Решили что только так можно спасти мир.

Это всё построено на лжи обмане и предательстве которое исходит из позиции фашистской идеологии. Как я вам говорила одной из и даже единственный самый естественный идеологии человечества.

Вы найдёте кучу подтверждений того что фашизм естественен вместо того чтобы найти хоть одну причину по которой это неестественно. Будете говорить о том что брат убивает брата или же истребление части населения - это неестественно.. вы врёте когда так говорите.

Вам кажется что поедать мясо животных - это хрень подумаешь если для вас это естественно а для многих наций другая нация подобна каким-то животным и разве я не права? Разве американцы не считали или или англичане не считали что индейцы - Это животные?

Ещё много много примеров

Все программы также строятся на основе технологии которую человечество не создавало.

Что хотят добрые самаритянины или те кто у вас считаются хорошими людьми.. они хотят получить технологии или права на них по-настоящему. Им нужны основы, нужна информ��ция потому они меня трясут. А тем кто поставлен в ряды управления миром, им просто важно чтобы я не вышла за пределы собственной значимости.

Ты говорил про гражданские волнения или про гражданскую войну в каждой страны если правительство продолжит так себя вести..

А я тебе сразу отвечаю в этом вопросе что будут гражданские волнения а не войны гражданские войны фашистского содержания когда действительно брат пойдёт на брата ожидаются позже значительно И вам каждому надо молиться за то чтобы вы к тому моменту сдохли.

Это будет резня и с ваших самых кровавых и мерзких ужастиков.

Это же как желание трансляция этих желаний..

А ваш бог и те желания воплощает то есть процесс сам позволяет этому случиться.

Я ещё раз вам повторяю.

Если вы до начала этого шоу не обладали ту информацию которую я дала в процессе, А вы ей не обладали.. Не врите.

То это означает что вы подсели на ложь которую для вас создают и это далеко не трон и не белый унитаз.

Теперь вы все сидите на полу на голой земле с голой ж****

Надо сюда добавить переписку с сыном А вы её начале где он рассказывает что ой бывший муж ему доказывал как бизнес в начале ворует идеи а точнее он говорил по-другому что бизнес использует личные данные и так получает информацию о том что нужно человеку...

Но это слишком извращённая версия. Я говорю правильно. Бизнес ворует идеи при праве распределения того кому дать продвижение, кому не дать его. Наверняка многим из вас казалось что некоторые теории о которых вы узнаёте или же мысли кого-то на самом деле вы об этом говорили или же догадывались.. значит вы либо принадлежите к одной сети с этой личностью имевшей возможности высказаться, а это идёт от одной души который позволили высказаться. А вот вы все без этой души Но в одной ��епи связи оказались Не у дел.

А тут нонс возник со мной

Чтобы вы у меня не своровали это не срабатывает

Означает ли что что я нахожусь не просто в какой-то там цепи какой-то души А я из самого начала.

Ни один из тестов касаемо того что вам втирали про то что нужно там я проверить или кого-то вы там ищете ничего это не давало результата, просто пробовали варианты как бы меня убрать и чтобы никому за это ничего не было. Ну вы же как Псы с хозяевами которых на самом деле нет это же ваши слова вы же говорите что ничего не происходит Я тут вообще сама всё придумала..

Вот только геморрой растёт понимаете

А я всё чаще и чаще произвожу очистительные самопроизвольные процедуры

Закупорка моих сосудов произошла по множеству причин и никак не связано с генетическими особенностями организма

Список преступлений невероятно огромное и невероятно огромное количество преступников

Теперь управляющий хотят переобуться в похожую обувь которую носят новое Королева новый Англии или эльфийская принцесса в новом Йорке. Хотят сделать из себя благородных и как нельзя кстати это шоу с игрой

Войны не закончатся пока вы не осознаете своих преступлениях и за каждого убитого в результате действий в мире за последние два-два с половиной года виноваты вы и когда во сне волнуют мои слёзы и горя когда я кричу как вы можете спать срать жрать зная что со мной делают.. то вот ваши личные мертвецы вскоре начнут вас мучить и сегодня воскресенье с сегодняшнего дня всё это и начнётся. Вы убили огромное количество человек и не Вове Путину за это отвечать аванс а вам самим всем.

На данный момент времени я, Владимир Владимирович и ещё несколько десятков человек являются детьми и находится под охраной эльфийского народа. Можете ржать сколько угодно но мы как родители за вас не отвечают сегодняшнего дня стоп. Хватит.. стоп стоп стоп...

У вас нет года. У вас давно нет времени и новый год вы так ждали чтобы он наступил с его наступлением без покаяния оплаты моего труда вас ждут глобальные изменения если кому-то они покажутся хорошие, то вспомните о том сколько вы врали И вам врали и просто мой советовал сомневайтесь в том что бесплатный сыр только не мешалке мышеловке.

Почитать Википедии в Гугле в Яндексе о составе сыра. Благородной вам плесени господа.

[beardedmrbean]

@nerdylilpeebee linked in the article you linked

link doesn't want to format right

https://www.ksn.com/news/ohio-man-faces-charges-for-a-child-sex-crime-in-salina/

SALINA, Kansas –  An Ohio man is behind bars in the Saline County Jail for having sex with a girl under the age of 16 according to KSAL.

Police arrested 27-year-old Jacob L. Pina on a warrant request for an incident that allegedly occurred in 2014.

Police say the victim contacted authorities after she was held against her will and sexually molested at a house located on South 2nd Street in November of 2014.

Pina, who lists his residence as Toledo, Ohio is now facing charges that include aggravated indecent liberties with a child under the age of 16. ______________________

Then we move on to the conviction, which is not in the article you linked.

A 28-year-old Ohio man was sentenced in Saline County District Court on Monday to four years and four months in prison for one count of indecent liberties with a child.

Jacob L. Pina, of Toledo, Ohio, pleaded no contest to the count in May and an additional charge was dropped, according to court records. He was ordered to have lifetime post-release supervision, as well as pay $193 in court costs, an $800 Kansas Bureau of Investigation fee, a $400 child advocacy fee, and $350 for the services of his attorney.

Pina was arrested on a warrant in February for allegedly having sexual relations with a female acquaintance between 14 and 16 years old without her consent in a Salina home in November 2014, a police department spokesman said at the time. ___________________________

NPR article about her doesn't mention anything to do with what years all this took place and there was two stints in jail so I can't comment to that but the no contest plea to "indecent liberties" is there and all the other details line up as well

So ya claims about the crime seem to be true.

[truecrimecrystals]

Alex LaRussa vanished at the age of 25 on December 8th, 2017. Alex went missing just a few months after moving from Great Bend to Salina, Kansas. In July 2017, he injured his leg and ultimately ended up having it amputated. After this injury, he decided to move to Salina to be closer to his family. Alex began using a wheelchair but was also still able to drive and was seen out-and-about on the day he disappeared.

Before vanishing, Alex visited his mother and went to a local Wal-Mart (pictured in surveillance footage above). The last known sighting of him occurred on 9:30 PM on December 8th in the area of Iron and Ohio. He never returned home and has never been seen or heard from again.

On January 14th, 2018, Alex’s car was found abandoned on a farm in New Cambria, Kansas. Many of his personal items were found inside the vehicle, including his wheelchair, clothing, and cell phone. New Cambria is approximately seven miles away from Salina. It’s unclear why Alex’s car ended up in that area, or if he even drove it there himself.

Police have not revealed much about the investigation into Alex’s disappearance, but they have said that they believe someone out there knows exactly what happened to him. He remains missing today. If you have any information that could lead to his whereabouts, please contact the Salina Police Department and 785-826-7210.

[tammyfeabakker]

Watch "Live PD: Most Viewed Moments from Salinas, California Police Department | A&E" on YouTube

[socialjusticeartshare]

Protesters take over Morgan Hill streets

“We are trying to uplift our voices and give a voice to those kids,” Villafana said.

ASSEMBLY STAYED PEACEFUL IN OPPOSITION TO US IMMIGRATION POLICIES

Hundreds of people marched down Monterey Road Friday evening to protest against U.S. immigration policies.

The June 26 protest was organized and led by a group of Aztec dancers. Supportive crowds gathered at Galvan Park on Crest Avenue for an “open mic” assembly. Demonstrators, dancers, artists and singers shared statements in support of racial equality and reform of immigration policies before marching to the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) office on Vineyard Court.

The procession was led by the Aztec dancers and a group of percussionists who played from the back of a pickup truck. Protesters—carrying signs and chanting slogans—crowded the southbound traffic lanes on Monterey Road and other streets as Morgan Hill Police controlled traffic.

The purpose of the protest was to call attention to U.S. immigration policies that have resulted in the separation of children from their parents, particularly at the southern border with Mexico. Lead organizers of the march were Aztec dancers Reyes Villafana, of Salinas, and Josue Gonzalez, of San Jose.

“We have seen a bunch of injustice within our Latino community, especially with families being separated and especially kids,” Gonzalez said. “It’s not fair that our people are being treated like animals.”

Many handmade signs and speakers at the protest spoke of immigrant children being placed “in cages,” a reference to U.S. immigration practices that result in the detention of kids away from their parents when caught crossing the border.

“We are trying to uplift our voices and give a voice to those kids,” Villafana said.

The organizers added that the anti-ICE movement has gained momentum recently from regional and nationwide protests against police violence and racial inequality within the justice system. They said they were protesting June 26 “in solidarity” with Black Lives Matter, an activist organization that has led recent protests against police violence.

“Kids are dying, and being sexually abused within these centers,” Gonzalez said, referring to detention centers at the U.S. border. “With the pandemic, it’s unsanitary. It’s time that we speak about it.”

The U.S. ICE office on Vineyard Court is an Enforcement and Removal Operations sub-office for the agency, which falls under the U.S. Department of Homeland Security. The office has been the target of occasional peaceful protests organized by clergy, activists and members of the public since it opened in 2016.

Article Source

[awayfromthedesk]

Weeks into sheltering place, Monterey County is still trying to figure out how to help the homeless.

By Marvin Green IV

On March 17, the Monterey County Health Department followed the lead of counties nationwide and instituted a shelter-in-place policy. The gist of the order: if you’re home, you’re safe and at the very least, slowing the spread of COVID-19. Simple enough, if you have a roof over your head, but exponentially more difficult if you are one of the hundred of homeless people without shelter, who have nowhere to go. 

“It’s going to have to have a big answer. It’s a big priority,” says Monterey County spokesperson Karen Smith. 

Whether homeless or improperly housed, it is incredibly difficult for those experiencing homelessness—and in particular unhoused homelessness—to keep clean. The county’s “big” answer seems to come in the way of porta-potties. Smith says they have increased the amount of porta-potties, sanitizing stations (basically a portable sink) and water stations (a place to fill up on drinkable water) throughout the county. Smith did not have any hard numbers on how many prior or additional hygiene-related infrastructure the county put in place. The cities of Seaside and Monterey have also put similar plans into place. 

While consistent and readily-accessible sanitation is not an easy answer during the pandemic, access to food has always been a problem for the homeless population. The need is only exacerbated during a time of panic buying and limited movement. “Numbers have quadrupled,” says Melissa Kendrick, executive director of The Food Bank of Monterey County. “We have had to reimagine everything due to social distancing.” 

While most agencies who offer free meals are still operating, Monterey Police Lt. Jake Pinkas says the National Guard has begun distributing MRE’s, or meals-read-to-eat, which are typically eaten by deployed soldiers, at normal feeding sites throughout Monterey,  as well.

“Hunger is a serious issue in this county, but right now it’s unprecedented,” says Kendrick.

But the bigger and more glaring question is, where can the homeless shelter and sltteep safely., Seaside City Manager Craig Malin says that the city will not enforce the ban on sleeping in cars, specifically at Roberts Lake. The lake is distant from neighborhoods and has hand sanitizing stations. The city of Monterey has also increased the parking lots available to the homeless. 

Prior to the shelter-in-place order, Lt. Pinkas says the city never cited people for sleeping in their cars, if no other shelter was available. The problem the city had to figure out was supply. “Because of [COVID-19] more places to park have become available [in Monterey],” says Lt. Pinkas. There has even been talk of using the Monterey County Fairgrounds as a shelter. “There has been an ongoing discussion, but that (order) would have to come from Sacramento (the state),” says Lt. Pinkas. 

Alexa Johnson from the Housing Resource Center in Salinas, a nonprofit that helps homeless families find housing says many shelters have turned into 24-hour shelters. Basically, once a family comes in, they can’t leave. “They have to stay there to make sure everyone is safe and healthy,” says Johnson. This can pose difficulties for families where someone is still working an essential job.

While Smith can confirm that the county is working at shelter options for those with no place to go, she isn’t sure what that will look like. “I know they looked at several sites, but nothing has been announced officially.”

The largest issue seems to be lack of resources to help the homeless. “We fed 600 families in South County today,” Kendrick says. “We are buying all of the food we can.” In the meantime those without a home will have to wait for a (semi) permanent place to shelter. “I expect something to come out soon,” says Smith. It has been 26 days since March 17. The order is set to end on May 3.

[arrestdujour]

Salinas, Anthony Ryan

Boise, ID

JID Number: 01143537 Age: 19 Arresting Agency: Boise City Police Department

Charge Count: 5

 Register for notification on changes to inmate's custody status.

F Possession of a Controlled Substance with the Intent to Deliver Criminal Charge $100,000.00

M Drug Paraphernalia-Use or Possess With Intent to Use Criminal Charge Included

M Controlled Substance-Possession of Marijuana Criminal Charge Included

M Arrests & Seizures-Resisting or Obstructing Officers Criminal Charge Included

Failure to Appear (No New Offense) - FE Out of County Warrant Not Bailable

This individual will not be released from custody due to a nonbailable charge(s)

Bail Total: $100,000.00

[beardedmrbean]

A 911 emergency dispatcher and five law enforcement officials in Texas are facing discipline — and possible termination — for allegedly engaging in inappropriate sexual relationships.

Krystle Perez, a dispatcher with the Bexar County Sheriff’s Office, is at the center of the scandal. According to the Bexar County Sheriff’s Office, a complaint was filed with the internal affairs department regarding Perez “having extramarital relations with several Bexar County Sheriff’s Office Law Enforcement Deputies,” a BCSO spokesperson told Law&Crime in an email on Wednesday.

An investigation followed. Perez, Deputy Juan Leal, and Sgt. Reynaldo Salinas have since been issued proposed termination notices, but they are still undergoing the appeal process and the outcome of their proposed termination is still pending, according to the BCSO spokesperson.

Three other BSCO law enforcement officers, who were not identified by the spokesperson, are also currently going through the disciplinary process.

“The investigation into this incident remains ongoing,” the spokesperson told Law&Crime.

Sheriff Javier Salazer said that the employees denied doing anything inappropriate while on duty, Local NBC affiliate WOAI reported. Spouses of two of the involved officers, however, reportedly gave both the sheriff’s office and the station text messages that indicate otherwise.

The station noted that many of the text messages “are too explicit” to share on TV.

WOAI reported that it does not appear that the law was broken, but the involved employees are alleged to have violated BCSO policies.

“Certainly, the case is being taken seriously and quite frankly, I believe it’s quite possible some people are going to lose their career as a result of this,” Salazar said, according to the station.

Giancarlo Perez, the husband of dispatcher Krystle Perez, told WOAI that he discovered texts between his wife and six sheriff’s deputies as well as a police officer for the city of Converse, located in Bexar County.

“She was the love of my life and it was very distraught, heartbreaking, I was in disbelief,” Giancarlo Perez told the station.

“They use emojis to reference body parts, they talk about kissing, making out and these sexual connections,” he added.

Although the BCSO did not identify the three additional law enforcement officials allegedly involved, WOAI reported that the wife of investigator Jason Jarvis is seeking a divorce.

“These are people that are supposed to be protecting us, serving and making sure the community is safe,” Jessica Jarvis told the news station.

The Bexar County sheriff vowed to address the action underlying the allegations.

“Misconduct, such as that described in this case, tends to undermine public trust, and will not be tolerated,” Salazar said, according to the BCSO spokesperson.

[pasoroblesdailynews]

Paso Robles Police arrest reports for June 30 - July 7

Weekly arrest logs from the Paso Robles Police Department Warnars, Wyatt Douglas, 24, of Salinas, was arrested on June 30 at 1:32 am at 14th and Spring for suspected violation of driving under the influence of alcohol (23152(B) VC) and driving under the influence (23152(A) VC). Macariohernandez, Juan Cornelio, 32, of Santa Maria, was arrested on June 30 at 2:36 am at 24th Street and Spring…

[postromanticqueerwave]

Ｆｒｅｅ Ｂａｂｙ Ｇｉｒｌ ᴊᴇɴɴɪꜰᴇʀ ᴀᴍᴇʟɪᴀ ʀᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴇᴇᴛꜱ! June 11, International Day of Solidarity with Marius Mason & all long-term Anarchist Prisoners  https://june11.noblogs.org/2019-call/ "I'm an imprisoned anarchist and trans feminist prison rebel held captive behind enemy lines by the state in California (the occupied Chumash and Native Territories). I've been held as a political prisoner for nearly 30 years! I need your solidarity & support!" 'Jennifer Gann [now Rose, AKA Baby Girl] is a political prisoner/prisoner of war held in California State Prison since 1990. Originally sentenced to seven years for an armed robbery when she was age 21, Jennifer became politicised as a jailhouse lawyer and prison abolitionist during the 1991 Folsom Prison Food Strike, and as a result was targeted by the California Department of Corrections prison officials' illegal brutality and torture. Jennifer spent more than a decade in solitary confinement at Folsom and Pelican Bay SHU where she engaged in self-defense and resistance actions, sabotaging/breaking prison cell windows and attacking the pigs. Jennifer was subsequently given multiple 25 year to life sentences for "non-serious" felonies after a trial where she was denied benefit of counsel and defence witnesses. Jennifer is 48 years old and has continued to experience misogynist/transphobic violence by prison guards and inmates for the past several years, including a 2015 prison riot at Kern Valley State Prison between anti-racist Black and Queer prisoners against homophobic gang members and a 2016 police brutality incident where she was severely beaten and hospitalised by four male correctional officers. Jennifer has earned 22 college credits at San Bernardino Valley College and Coastline Community College toward an Associate in Arts degree. She has worked in vocational welding class, as a recreation aide in the Enhanced Outpatient Program (EOP), and as a Transgender Coordinator for the Inmate Advisory Council (IAC). Jenny also led a Siddha Yoga class in 2015, and received certificate of completion for therapy groups in Cultural Change and Getting Out by Going In (GOGI). Because of her age, educational achievements and decades in prison, she falls into the US Justice Department's category of the extremely low recidivism rate of roughly 1%. Not only does she not pose a risk to society, Jennifer plans to volunteer work at the TGI Justice Project helping others in her community. 30 years is ENOUGH!!! Jennifer went to prison as a troubled young person, now she is a student, worker and activist. It's time to bring her home to her mother, sister, family, friends and community. Personal correspondence and support letters are welcome. Please visit the Anarchist Black Cross websites and [ www.june11.noblogs.org ] for the latest news on Jennifer and other anarchist political prisoners and POW. Also check out www.jenichony.org for news on many other political prisoners/POW. FREE ALL US HELD POLITICAL PRISONERS AND POWS!' Visit Jennifer's support site at babygirlgann.noblogs.org Jennifer Gann E23852 Salinas Valley State Prison PO Box 1050 Soledad, CA 93960 babygirlgann.noblogs.org Read more from Jennifer on her blog: https://betweenthebars.org/blogs/490/jennifer-amelia-rose *DOWNLOAD link for June 11 posters by PRQW, to print or share hi-res: https://www.dropbox.com/sh/kc78rj2bc3uhek6/AACDYujhJylZsIrq_508eefja?dl=0&fbclid=IwAR0nfZk9y3bkDUTbyn2zjnvHAN1X87InNowDMTAg3fkWYImuWLZE-sWjF78

[maevefiction]

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 48

Tom remained at Wilcox Medical until July 11th, and I didn’t leave his side for more than a few minutes during the entirety of his stay…a navy-blue leather recliner to the left of his bed had served as my sleeping spot. Said sleep was elusive, as is the case with any hospital stay. It’s all a blur of doctors and nurses and machines and strange periods of quiet that turn into an assaultive dissonance on a dime. Detective Frye paid us a visit at the hospital the day before Tom was discharged in order to discuss his recollection of the incident, aspiring to fill in as many blanks remaining in the police report as possible. Since there was no one to prosecute, such matters were for the record only, but accurate information was essential in the event that a civil suit was filed by Claudia’s family. I was initially taken aback when Tom asked me to leave the room while he spoke with the detective, and it must have shown on my face because Tom quickly apologized and said he simply wasn’t ready for me to hear any of it, even though I might be ready to listen. Upon my return an hour later, Frye was gone and Tom was visibly upset, with an underlying anger reflected by the tension in his shoulders and the set of his jaw. Though it was a challenge, I didn’t pry, settling instead for squeezing his hand before I retired to my chair and sat in silence with him until he was ready to talk. And when he did, it was about everything and anything other than whatever it was that he’d just shared with a complete stranger.  

His recovery had gone smoothly, but we’d found ourselves taking what amounted to a forced vacation in a rented condo on Kauai, waiting for Tom to be cleared to fly to San Diego so he could, hopefully, arrive there in time to participate in the Kong Skull Island panel. Since we’d be in Australia for a large chunk of my pregnancy, I’d decided to choose an obstetrician there, and had managed to find one in London as well who was willing to follow along and take over once we returned home in mid-to-late November. That date was tentative at best since we weren’t sure what physical limitations or restrictions Tom would have nor how they’d affect the Ragnarok shooting schedule. I’d had a basic blood work-up and general physical exam at Wilcox, and when that turned out fine I opted to wait on a sonogram. It seemed silly, but I just didn’t want to forever associate the experience of seeing our progeny for the first time with…whatever the correct term for what we were going through was. Prog…that’s what we’d started calling the little bugger that was making me violently ill at least once a day. Short for progeny, with a ‘j’ sound. The Prog.

Diana, James and the rest of Tom’s family had headed home as soon as he’d been discharged, but Luke and Simon stuck around under the guise of not wanting to fly to London only to have to turn around and fly right back to the US again for SDCC. In reality, I knew the reason for them remaining was because they figured we’d need their companionship and assistance but wouldn’t want to ask for either, which was one-hundred percent correct. They’d taken on the task of finding the rental, packing up our belongings at the hotel and having them ready and waiting when we arrived. No one even asked if I wanted to do it myself, for which I was grateful, because there was no way I was going back there. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able go back there…just looking through our wedding pictures and videos pushed me to the edge of the ‘massive anxiety attack ahead’ cliff, and, in all honesty, I couldn’t wait to get the fuck off of Kauai. Remaining there seemed to make it impossible to process, to try to move forward. I’d begun having nightmares, as had Tom, but we didn’t speak of them in the daylight hours, nor in the dark of night. I knew that there was work to be done, that we needed to find a pathway to healing emotionally…but that didn’t seem possible until things in the physical realm were fully sorted.

Tom’s first follow-up appointment had taken place on the 13th, his second – and last – on the 18th. Dr. Salinas gave him clearance to travel and return to normal physical activity with some limitations…no running and no stunt work for thirty days. After that it would be business as usual, but for the next three months he’d need to self-monitor, and if he noticed any pain or atypical shortness of breath he was to head to the nearest medical facility immediately. Copies of all related paperwork would be sent to the proper department at Marvel for review, and the new shooting schedule emailed once it had been established. Since he was fine to do a majority of planned scenes, it was likely only three weeks or so of actual filming time would be lost. Which was bad enough, but…could have been worse. So much worse. I wondered if I’d always think that way, and if it wasn’t actually a bad way to evaluate one’s current situation. All things should seem less horrible when you pause to consider what’s worse, in theory. I decided to file it under ‘convenient diversionary tactics to avoid dealing with life’, mainly because my pondering had been interrupted by another round of heaving up the contents of my stomach.

All four of us shared a charter to San Diego on the 21st, heading directly from the airport to the same hotel we’d stayed in the year before via a car service. Stepping out of the black Dodge Durango and onto the pavement was surreal…a mix of reporters, media, and attendees thrilled to be among their people again were all around us, and we were paid little to no mind until we entered the lobby. There were stares, pointing, and whispering as well as several shouts from well-wishers. While it was a bit overwhelming after spending so much time in a private setting, the positive energy emanating from those within our space reminded me that there were likely some folks who’d been concerned about us and had been sending along that same energy from a distance via social media. I hadn’t looked, and neither had Tom, but now was probably the time to investigate and at least post a simple thank you if nothing else. I didn’t want to, but it seemed rude not to, so I added it to my mental to-do list.

After check-in we took the elevator up to our floor, and when the doors opened I could feel my body tense at the sight of the narrow hallway. Tom and I stepped out into it, leaving Luke and Simon behind as their room was two floors above us. We walked to our room, the third one on the left, and when I turned to face the door a vision of Claudia knocking on it froze me in place. Once Tom completed sliding the keycard and swung the door inward the contents of the room were clearly visible, and though slow to process the data, my brain cycled logically…not Kauai, different place, dead Claudia, all clear…and I managed to step forward and inside. The door shut behind me with a loud click, and I flinched, then headed for the bathroom. Tom had pulled out his phone and begun talking to someone I assumed was either Jordan or a fellow cast member about the panel’s structure and content. He was still engaged in conversation when I emerged a few minutes later, standing in front of the window that overlooked the city. The setting sun, now at its lowest visible point on the horizon, had created a halo effect that surrounded his upper body, and in that moment, I felt like myself again…normal, even. My version of normal, anyway. And then, there was a knock on the door, and I panicked, whimpering quietly because that’s all my body would permit. Tom didn’t realize anything was awry at first, only turning around when the knocking continued. He took one look at my face, tossed his phone on the bed, and walked quickly to stand in front of me as he loudly stated to whomever was out in the hallway that he’d be right there.

He took my face in his hands ever so carefully, trying his best to keep himself even-keeled for my benefit. “It’s okay. It’s probably just our luggage. I’ll go see, and I promise I’ll leave the bolt on until I’m certain. All right?”

I nodded, watching him from the foot of the bed, unconsciously clenching my hands into fists as I waited for something terrible to unfold. As the door opened my heart began to pound like mad, and when I saw the luggage dolly I sat down, elbows on my knees and my head in my hands…relieved, but confused and embarrassed by my behavior. I heard the door close again, then felt Tom’s weight shift the mattress as he sat beside me. I lifted my head slowly as he slipped his arm around my shoulders. I wanted to say something but I didn’t know where or how to begin, and since he remained silent I assumed he felt the same way. Though it felt wrong to judge so quickly, this was becoming a pattern, and it made me uncomfortable across the board. We hadn’t been intimate since the night before the public wedding ceremony and learning that I was pregnant, and it felt petty and selfish to even be thinking about not having fucked my husband in three weeks when I’d almost lost him forever, but I missed him, missed the reinforcement of the connection between us sex provided, all of it. It had been officially off the table until the restrictions Dr. Salinas had imposed were lifted, and while I’d been expecting to get back to it right away his expectations clearly differed. To be honest, he’d expressed no interest in it whatsoever. I didn’t know what to make of it, and it was another instance of me saying nothing because I had no clue as to what I should say, if anything. I’d also caught him looking at me on multiple occasions while wearing an expression of guilt and/or regret and again, said nothing. A pattern indeed, and an awful one that I was unsure how to break free of, other than being patient until it ran its course. Lord knew he’d been ceaselessly patient with me all along the way, the situation he’d just navigated serving as a prime example. Was that the right way to handle this? Fuck if I knew. What I did know that I was exhausted, and softly announced that I was going to try to get some rest. He kissed the top of my head, rose and began to unpack our luggage as I undressed and crawled under the covers. As I lay there, I realized that it wasn’t only him who hadn’t revealed the details of their experience that day…neither had I. Yet, he’d known the circumstances, enough, at least, to know someone knocking at the door was something I might now find frightening. Had he watched a video of the press conference? Discussed it with Luke or Simon? Or, perhaps, Detective Frye? I sat up, intending to broach the subject, but found myself trapped between needing resolution and wanting to avoid causing him any additional pain. His voice startled me.

“Maude? You okay?”

I stood, nodding. “Tired, but can’t sleep. Gonna take a shower and see if that helps.”

As I walked past him, he set the shirts in his hand down on the dresser in order to reach out for me, pulling me to his chest and kissing the top of my head again, then releasing me. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The carry-on that contained my toiletries was on the floor near him, and I stooped to pick it up and brought it with me into the bathroom. After closing the door behind me, I started to cry. I cried as I unpacked what I needed. I cried as I turned on the water, I cried as I shampooed my hair, I cried as I rinsed it, I cried as I soaped myself and rinsed again, and I cried as I dried myself off and hung the towel back on the rack. My eyes were red when I glanced at my reflection, so I wet a washcloth with cold water and held it over them for several minutes then checked myself out again. Not ideal, but acceptable. I blew my nose, then walked back out into the room. Tom had finished unpacking and was sitting at the room’s desk, laptop open in front of him. He looked up at me, smiling.

“Better?”

“I think so.” I put my hands on my naked hips. “You coming to bed?”

“Not yet…going over a few things for the panel tomorrow. Will it keep you awake if I’m working?”

I shook my head as I allowed my hands to drop to my sides. “I don’t think so. I can always put my earbuds in and listen to music if it does.”

“Okay. I can’t imagine I’ll be at this for more than an hour, honestly, so I’ll be joining you soon. Get some sleep, my love.”

“Okay.” I returned to my tangle of sheets and blankets, my damp hair clinging to my neck, my back turned to him. There was, of course, no sleep to be had, though I pretended to be out cold when he finally settled in beside me two hours later. Once I was positive he was asleep, I got up, put on my robe, pulled out my own laptop and sat at the desk he’d recently vacated to do my own work. Which didn’t require much effort, as the only pressing task on my list was the Skype interview I had set with Chad Morrison for the New York Times tomorrow at 1 PM. I reviewed the most recent Manageall stats Trudy had sent me, created a bullet-point list, then spent the next few hours surfing around checking out random things that I thought might hold my interest and, perhaps, entertain me. I woke up in a puddle of drool with my hand beneath my head resting on the desk, my browser still open and displaying an article entitled ‘Gentle Yoga For A Better Birth’. The system clock read 6:17 AM, and a quick glance at the bed confirmed Tom was still sleeping. I stood, removed my robe, hit the bathroom and then slipped in beside him, waiting for him to awaken and for the day to begin. A new location, a full schedule, little time to dwell…and, hopefully, all of that would amount to first steps down that pathway we needed to traverse.

***************************************

SDCC had gone off without a hitch…everyone was incredibly respectful, and kind. I don’t know why I would have expected anything else, other than that little voice I kept hearing inside my head whispering things like ‘they know it’s all your fault’. My interview with Chad had been published on July 25th, and by the time we arrived on the Gold Coast in Queensland on the 28th Manageall had surpassed the ten thousand subscriber mark. That kept me busy over the next week as I scrambled from our rental house just outside of Oxenford to remotely help Trudy configure new servers and ensure that the system could handle three times our existing traffic, just in case. Five new employees were added within the space of two days, and all but one stayed on board despite being thrown into the fray with little to no training. Ten-thousand plus subscribers was A Big Deal…aka the amount that tipped our monthly gross revenue over the million-dollar mark. It was a milestone that warranted a discussion, one which Luke and I decided to have in person once I returned to London.

Tom had begun filming at Village Roadshow Studios on July 30th, waking each morning at 4 AM, leaving by 4:30 and returning home each night well after 10 PM, showering, then falling into bed exhausted. To make up for lost time, the shooting schedule would be six days a week until a temporary relocation to Brisbane happened in late August. My schedule mirrored his, mainly in order to account for the 9-hour time difference between Queensland and London. When I’d contact Trudy or Luke at 5 AM my time, it was 8 PM the night before where they were. A mindfuck, truly, and it meant I was done working every day by 11 AM at the latest, which left me with entirely too much time to think. Things between Tom and I were still as they were back in San Diego…no conversations about the incident, no sex. Every day had begun to represent another brick being added to the wall building between us. There was no animosity, we still talked about a broad spectrum of other things, still slept in the same bed, but there was a sense of necessitated cautiousness and a distance that hadn’t been there before.

The obstetrician I’d chosen, Dr. Bresden, practiced out of Brisbane, and my first appointment was scheduled for 1 PM on August 15th. The drive up would take about an hour or so, but we figured we’d leave at 11 and allow ourselves some extra time. If my guess as to when I’d conceived was correct, I’d reached the 13-week mark, possibly the 14th, and over the past eight days I hadn’t puked once, which was both awesome and anxiety inducing. Did it mean I was progressing normally, or was, you know, something WRONG? The evening before the sonogram was rough…I was obsessing over the morning sickness waning, and my nightmares had gotten continually worse, to the point wherein I began to dread going to sleep. We’d gone out to dinner with Chris and Elsa, who decided it was time to share their horror stories about child-rearing and childbirth now that Tom and I were official pledges to the Paternity Fraternity. I bitched about it the entire way home, then continued to complain about it after we’d arrived back at the rental house until I thought I heard Tom sigh heavily, at which point I had to decide whether or not to flip the fuck out or let it pass. Since I couldn’t be totally sure, and also because I could readily admit I had one foot over the cray-cray side of the fence, I let it go and we turned in for the night.

The next thing I knew, I was screaming, Tom was yelling, and my hands hurt like a motherfucker. I took stock of my surroundings and realized I was standing in front of the closed bedroom door. Looking down, I saw knuckles that were bruised and bloodied, as were the pinky-sides of my hands. When I looked back up and left and my gaze met Tom’s, my screaming stopped and his yelling ceased, replaced with a loud gasp of relief that was nearly a sob.

“What the fuck HAPPENED? I was asleep. How am I here? I don’t understand.” I reached out and touched the door with a fingertip, searching for confirmation that this was, in fact, reality, and as soon as I pressed down a jolt of pain hit my brain and I…remembered, my body twisting so I could face Tom.

“The Marriott, but…not the real Marriott. I was in the hallway, and you were dead, right there on the floor, and she was dead next to you, and I was just staring and staring and then she moved. She moved. And then she sat up, and she had the gun and she said ‘did you really think you were getting out of here alive’ and then she stood up and it was like something out of the Walking Dead, her eyes were all filmy and when she opened her mouth I could see right through because the back of her head was just…gone. And I turned around and ran down the hall and I tried all the room doors but they were all locked and then I got to the end of the hall and where there should have been stairs there was a door, a metal door, and the handle moved up and down like it was open but it wouldn’t open and I kept looking back over my shoulder and she was moving so slowly, but I couldn’t get the door to open and down at the other end of the hall was just a wall. She talked again and said she was going to wait until she got close to me to pull the trigger because she wanted to watch, she wanted to see…and I screamed for help, for someone to let me out, but no one came and I started to pound on the door, first with the sides of my fists, but then I started to punch it because she kept getting closer and the she touched me, her hand was on my shoulder and I swung around and punched her in the face and I thought she was going to fall down but she didn’t and then I tried to grab the gun but she wouldn’t let go and I went back to hitting the door and jiggling the handle but I knew I was going to die and then…then I…I was here…”

It felt like my heart was going to pound right out of my chest, and as I reached out to touch Tom to make sure I really wasn’t still inside a nightmare I noticed that the left side of his jaw was reddish-purple and that it was streaked with blood. My hands rose in an instant to cover my mouth, and when I spoke my voice was muffled and garbled.

“Oh my god, I hit YOU, didn’t I? Not her. YOU.” I lowered my hands, briefly assessing their condition once more and realizing that the blood on his face was most likely from my knuckles. “Oh my god. Tom, I’m so sorry…so sorry…are you okay? Jesus fucking CHRIST. What ELSE did I do? What is WRONG with me?!”

He stepped forward and embraced me, rubbing my back in slow circles and rocking me gently until he felt my heart rate returned to normal. Pulling back, he placed his hands on my upper arms, eyes focused on mine. “There’s nothing wrong with you. That was a night terror. I knew the risk of intervening…you’re never supposed to, but I couldn’t just stand aside and…anyway. I’m fine. How are you feeling?”

I shrugged, shaking my head back and forth slowly.

“I know. I’m so very sorry, Maude. First things first…those knuckles of yours need to be cleaned, And, we both could use some ice. Will you come to the kitchen with me? We’ll get that bit sorted, and then we can figure out what’s next. All right?” I nodded, and he stepped back, leaving one arm around my waist. He unlocked the bedroom door, opened it, then led me to the counter that held the undermounted stainless steel sink. We were both nude, and as he leaned forward to open the tap and set the right temperature with his free hand I felt the brush of his pubic hair across my hip, then again as he pulled back and released me in order to go find a clean kitchen towel. More than a year ago in New Orleans I’d had a brief case of performance anxiety after he’d revealed his full sexual history, but this, this was the first time ever that being naked in his presence made me feel uncomfortable. It was more than that, really…I felt self-conscious and exposed. I wrapped my arms around myself, and when he returned to my side I spoke, my chin lowered to my chest as I stared down at the water circling the drain.

“Would you mind getting me my robe?”

He placed two tan and white towels on the counter. “No, not at all…shall I turn the thermostat up a few degrees as well?”

I shook my head. “No thank you. I’m not cold.”

He hesitated, and I said nothing, continuing to stare. I heard his bare feet padding across the tile, the sound fading as he entered the bedroom. Upon the resumption of the sound I forced myself to lift my head and turn to look at him as he drew closer. In his hands was my black silk robe, and when I noticed he’d put on his navy-blue running shorts it dawned on me that by saying I wasn’t cold I’d clued him in as to what was on my mind, at least in part. He held the garment open so I could slip into it easily, his eyes averted as I carefully worked my arms through the sleeves. Though it wasn’t exactly pleasant, I tied the belt on my own. The water was still running, and he reached in and dipped his index finger into the stream.

“That feels all right to me.” His voice was nearly toneless, any emotion present seeming somehow forced. He reached for my right wrist, then paused, eyes asking for permission when I met his gaze. I nodded, then turned to watch as his hand encircled my wrist and guided my knuckles slowly into the streaming water. When I winced at the intensity of the stinging he spoke again, voice now trembling.

“I’m sorry.” He patted my right hand dry ever-so-gently, then moved on to my left. I winced again as the water made contact, noting that Tom’s own hands had begun to shake. By the time he’d dried my left hand off with the second towel, his entire body was quivering, and at that point I realized he was weeping. My head jerked upward and I swiveled my torso so I could see his face. He looked down and away, holding his hand up palm out toward me as he strode rapidly into the living room. I followed, and when I came to rest directly in front of him he spun around, leaving me with a view of his bare shoulders and back contorting as he sobbed.

This was it, then…the tipping point. Seeing him this way overrode my own emotional disarray, and I couldn’t imagine that anything I might say would make the situation worse, so I went all in.

“Tom. We need to talk.” He shook his head, and I gingerly placed my hand on his upper back between his shoulder blades. “Tom.” The contact was broken by him taking two steps forward. “Okay, no touching. That’s fine. But…”

He spun back around, blinking to clear his vison. “You want to touch me?”

“Of course I want to touch you. Why wouldn’t I want to touch you?”

His arms rose from his sides, bent at the elbow with his hands extended, fingers splayed and pointing in my direction as he looked me up and down. “Since you don’t want me to see you, I’m assuming you’d prefer that I also don’t touch you, which leads me to believe you’d prefer to not see or touch me, either.”

“That’s an incorrect assumption all around. I’d prefer it if you did touch me. But you haven’t, not in the way I’d expect you to, and you’ve given me no indication as to why you haven’t, which has caused me to assume that you’re no longer interested in me sexually, which has ultimately resulted in my feeling self-conscious and exposed when standing naked in your presence. Is my assumption as off base as yours?” Not an easy question to ask, that one. I hadn’t thought it through and wondered what the fuck would happen if he said no.

He nodded repeatedly. “Yes. It is. Completely.”

I lifted my arms and extended them outward at shoulder height, palms to the ceiling. “And that’s precisely why we need to talk, Tom. Ow.” Down went the arms, though it didn’t really do a whole hell of a lot for the throbbing ache in my hands. “We’ve avoided this conversation for far too long…instead we danced around the subject in an effort to prevent causing each other any additional pain. But that didn’t work. That never works, and I know that, but here we are…staring at each other across an ever-widening chasm which will eventually grow too vast to bridge. This distance, this disconnect…it’s awful. I’ve seen the pain in your eyes, and the anger, the guilt, the regret…and there’s my own shit I need to talk about…but I’ve stayed silent for fear of hurting you and I don’t want to do that anymore, Tom. I don’t think I CAN do it anymore.” There were two beige micro-fiber chairs on one side of the living room, and a matching couch on the other. We were standing between them, and I sat down at one end of the sofa. Tom hesitated at the other end briefly, then decided to sit in the middle, right by my side, and began to speak.

“I’m afraid. It terrifies me, the thought of my lung collapsing again. What if the next time I’m not so fortunate? What if it kills me, and you’re left here alone, and our child grows up without ever knowing me? All day long, with everything I do that’s even remotely physical, I’m aware of every breath that seems even remotely atypical, every twinge of the muscles in my torso. I’ve been counting down and focusing on the three-month marker because that’s when the risk of it happening again decreases to align with the norm. I’ve promised myself that then, that’s it, there’s no further need to worry, that I can let it go. I want to let it go. I hope I can let it go. But that’s why I haven’t…we haven’t. I wouldn’t want you to have to live with that, us loving each other being the end of me. And I should have told you. I should have. And I’m sorry. There’s another reason as well, and it’s a completely irrational fear but it feels real, and present. I’m sure it’s relative in some fashion to my past loss, but…I…”

Thinking in such a macabre and medieval-esque fashion was not Tom’s style, and that his mind had gone there was indicative of what a mess he’d been, and I was both impressed with and distressed by how well he’d managed it all from me. “You’re afraid that if we have sex I might have a miscarriage.”

He turned to face me, nodding. “It’s ludicrous. This I know. It’s not specifically that sex would be the cause, but if such a thing were to happen within close proximity of the act…and Maude, I just…I…I feel like death is just…it’s always lurking…even on set, you know? Loki’s role in Ragnarok is redemptive, there’s a comprehensive resolution, and he finally is able to ascertain his place in the universe and be at peace with it, and perhaps begin to experience happiness, or at least contentment…but I know what awaits him, that this moment for him is fleeting at best and I can’t help but see parallels there to my own reality.” Pausing, he rested his head in his hands, then moved them slowly back to his lap as he turned sideways, right leg bent with his knee on the couch resting centimeters from my left thigh. I shifted to mirror his position as he swallowed hard before continuing.

“I was mid-way through my run when I saw her. She waved at me as if her being there was perfectly normal. It made my blood boil, and instead of having the wherewithal to get back to the hotel as quickly as possible I approached her. I asked her what the fuck she was doing there, and told her she needed to leave immediately or she’d wind up with a police escort off the property. The mask of a friendly greeting fell away and she said ‘How could you let her to this to me, Tom? Let her ruin my life? I did what I had to do so she couldn’t trap you, and instead of being grateful you let her lie about me to the world, and then you married her. You married her, when you know how much I love you. And you love me. We belong together, you know that. She’s brainwashed you, that’s what’s going on here. She’s trying to keep us apart, and you can’t just roll over and and let it happen. Tom, come with me right now. We’ll run away and be happy, you and me, just us. Please. You have to come with me.’ And I told her I would do no such thing, that not only did I not love her, I regretted every moment I’d spent with her and that I wished I’d never met her, that I wished I could go back in time and tell her to get the fuck away from me when she crawled under the table to suck my dick. That whenever I thought about having fucked her it made me physically ill. And then I told her I was so lucky and so blessed that in spite of the mistakes I’d made I’d found you, that I’d never loved anyone like you before, and I never would again. Her response was that this was all your fault, that you’d stolen me away from her, and that if she couldn’t have me, no one would…and that’s when she pulled the gun out of the gift bag and shot me. The pain knocked me down and back and I fell onto the sand, and she put the gun back in the bag and said she really thought she wouldn’t need to use it, but I was too far gone and you were to blame. And that if she was going to have to pay for her crimes, you’d have to pay for yours too. She smiled at me, knelt down in the sand, kissed my check, said goodbye, then got up and took off running down the beach toward the hotel. I sat up, and the pain…and the blood…but I had to go after her. Each step I took seemed an eternity, and I couldn’t run, but I needed to get to you. I realized I’d never catch her, and that I was close to Luke and Simon’s room, so I began to walk that way. And then I crawled. But it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t get to you. I set all this in motion, there in that moment. I let my anger get the best of me and we both almost died because of it. In LA, when she threw the highball glass at you…I should have known. Up until that moment I was her focus, and she still believed that her and I would have a relationship at some point. You were just a minor inconvenience, a bump in the road. When she discovered that you knew about the videos…that’s where the shift happened. You became her target, the one to blame. I didn’t see it. I should have seen it. Having you speak at the press conference instead of handling it on my own was akin to painting a bullseye on your chest. And when you needed me most, when I should have been the one to face the monster I’d invited into my orbit, I wasn’t there for you, or for our child. I wasn’t there, Maude. I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t save you. I wasn’t THERE.”

For the first time in a long while…since our wedding day, really…I saw him…really saw him. Because he’d finally let me see him again. Sitting before me was a man so burdened by guilt and sorrow that he had no tears left to cry…an anxious, exhausted, depressed, defeated man positively teeming with self-loathing. My husband. A rush of pure, unadulterated love washed over me followed by an irrepressible urge to comfort him and banish all his fears that resulted in my reaching out and taking his hands in my damaged own, oblivious to the pain.

“Tom. No one sees this kind of thing coming. This is the stuff of late-night crime dramas and tragic Oscar-bait films. There was no way for you to know. I didn’t know, either…and believe me, I’ve beaten myself up for it, too. I’m the one who got in her face in LA and spouted off about prison. And no one ‘had’ me do anything…I stood at that podium of my own volition and called her bluff. I knew she’d be pissed, and I did it not only in spite of that fact, but, at least in a small way, because of it. The blame for that falls squarely on my shoulders. But what she did…no, Tom. It’s not your fault, it’s not my fault…that’s all on her. It was her choice. Her decision. And she was too much of a coward to answer for it. And even though I know all that, the logic behind it, I still feel guilty about how I handled all of it every day…and I thought you’d distanced yourself because you blamed me. Do you blame me?”

He shook his head, voice barely a whisper. “No. I thought the same…do you blame me?”

“No. I do not. I have not. Not even for a second. And there’s something else you need to know, Tom.” Those blue eyes full of trepidation met my brown ones. “You’re right about not being there…but you’re wrong about not protecting me, and you’re wrong about not being able to save me. When I opened that door and she was standing in the hallway, I was frozen in place. I couldn’t move. I watched the gun rise higher and higher and inside my head I was screaming ‘close the door, close the door’ but I couldn’t and then that faded and the only thought I had left was ‘she’s going to shoot me now’. And then I heard a man’s voice shouting for her to drop her weapon, and that broke the spell. That voice is the reason why I was able to get the door closed. That voice is the reason why those three bullets lodged in the door and not in my flesh. The man that voice belonged to? Police officer. And why was he there in exactly that place at precisely that time? Because you sent him, Tom. You sent him upstairs. You gave him the room number. You told him to go, GO! And he went.  If you hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you on the couch right now…so I don’t ever want to hear you say you couldn’t protect me or that you couldn’t save me ever again. You might not have been by my side when it happened, but you saved my life and our child’s life all the same. And you risked your own life to do it, Tom. Dr. Salinas said if you’d have stayed still your lung wouldn’t have fully collapsed so quickly. But you didn’t stay still. You got up over and over again and kept going and being in restraints couldn’t even stop you. You almost died that day in order to make sure we didn’t. Do you understand that? You almost died. To save your family. If that’s not protecting what you love, then I don’t know what the fuck IS.”

When our eyes met his lower lip began to quiver and I tightened my grip on his hands. “That day, outside the recovery room, Dr. Salinas…she said that she couldn’t explain why you made it through so well…why you lived. She didn’t phrase it quite that way, but that was the gist of it. But I know why. When you got word that I was alive, that I was unharmed…you went to war. You waged a battle with the final enemy. And you were victorious. You returned to me, to us. You fought death that day and you won, Tom. You came back. You came home.”

His gaze turned toward our joined hands a he positioned his left ring finger so it was next to mine, the silver bands that bound us clinking softly together in the silence. He looked back up at me, the right corner of his mouth having curled upward in a half-smile, tears tracking down his cheeks and through his stubble like tiny pachinko balls. “When I promised to never let you go, I meant it.”

I began to sob then, as did Tom. He pulled me onto his lap, my bottom nestled between his thighs, legs sideways, feet resting on the cushion I’d just vacated. He wrapped his left arm around my waist, the right around my shoulders, hand cradling my head and pressing it gently to his left shoulder. He rocked us back and forth, side to side, his face buried in my hair. When the weeping ceased, I ran my right thumb along the base of his left one, that oddly sensual spot of flesh which allows lovers to steal moments of secret erotic pleasure in full view of the world. As he began to do the same in turn, there it was…a spark of the energy within us both demanding to be set free so it could unite each with the other’s and light our collective world ablaze. I raised my head to take stock of his expression, wondering if he felt it as well. His tongue snaked across his lips and I inhaled sharply, which earned me a an ecstatic eyeroll and a pelvic thrust from him, his cock hard against my ass. He kissed me then, both our mouths open from the start. There was no finesse in any of it, all tongues and saliva and clashing of teeth as he undid my robe and cupped my left breast in his right hand, thumb stroking back and forth over my nipple. His touch caused me to gasp and cant my hips, and I could feel his body tensing…whether it was with fear or desire, I couldn’t be certain. I removed his hand from my breast and stood up, then turned to face him as I let my robe drop from my shoulders and fall to the floor. Leaning forward, I placed my hands on his shoulders and stared into his eyes, again unsure of whether it was lust or terror at hand.  

“Tom, honey…please don’t put any pressure on yourself. It’s okay if you’re afraid. I understand. Now that I know why…I’m fine. Take your time with this. Please.”

He grabbed my hips and pulled me forward and down, his words nearly a growl. “I’m afraid I’ve reached the point wherein the chances of me dying are far greater if I can’t have you right now as opposed to any other scenario.” He looked up at me and for a second or two I would have sworn it was Loki whose eyes I saw, but then Tom was back where he belonged, expression now pleading. “Will you ride me?”

I nodded, placing one knee on either side of his lap. He didn’t even bother with removing his shorts, instead pushing back the elastic just enough to allow him to reach in and free his cock. When the head of it connected with my wetness we both groaned. I shifted forward so he was poised at my entrance but paused before welcoming him inside, needing assurance that he was certain about taking this step.

“Are you sure this is okay?”

He answered without hesitation, voice thick with desire. “Yes. I’m sure. I want you. I need you. I need to be inside you. Yes.”

I lowered myself onto his cock, relishing in the feel of it stretching me, filling me…of how it melded two separate beings into a combined entity that pulsed with unified power and unequaled pleasure. Tom’s head had lolled back onto the back of the couch, eyes closed, his elegant neck and jawline demanding attention from my tongue as I began to circle my hips. I was careful to avoid the bruised area, licking around and down until I reached the hollow of his collarbone, and the whine such ministrations elicited caused my unhurried gyrating to turn to a forceful, rapid rise and fall. His eyes opened, head lifting off the couch as he reached around to take hold of my ass cheeks, one in each hand, pulling outward.

“Maude. Oh Maude. MAUDE. Don’t stop please don’t stop I love you I love you I love you…” His lips found mine, tongue thrusting into my mouth as I rode him harder until he came, his breath and mine one and the same as his come painted my walls in a continuous gush of warm spurts that I thought might go on forever. His index finger found my clit and I orgasmed instantly, clenching and squeezing around him as if my body was insistent on locking him in place, an idea I thoroughly supported. It wasn’t until he broke the kiss and that I noticed he was panting, and I took his face in my hands, the past minutes eclipsed by a deep-seated concern for his well-being.

“Are you okay? Can you breathe? Do you have any pain? Tom?”

He inhaled, then exhaled, smiling softly. “No pain. Nothing unusual, just the normal effect being incredibly well fucked by my gorgeous wife has on me. I’m fine.” His smile faded, replaced with an expression of concern likely similar to the one he’d seen me wearing seconds before. “How are you? Everything okay?”

I nodded. “Yep. I’m good. Exhausted, but good. And all of a sudden I really, really want salt and vinegar potato chips. Like, bad. They have those here, right? Man…I can almost taste them…wow, this is…”

His smile returned as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, our chests pressed together. “That sounds like it might be a craving. I believe I’m obligated to dress and head out now, in the middle of the night, to track down your snack of choice and bring it home posthaste.”

Though I admittedly salivated at the thought, my body’s need for sleep overrode what was in essence just a ‘want’. “As much as I appreciate your willingness to do so…no. The only place you’re going is back to bed with me. If you’re willing to risk round two, that is.” His left eyebrow rose, a small smirk that for some ridiculous reason made me blush appearing on his face. I rolled my eyes in an effort to distract him from the pink-hued heat that I could feel reaching my cheeks. “I meant round two as in a boxing match. You know, because I punched you? Round of boxing.”

He rubbed the tip of his nose against mine. “Oh goodness me…it appears I’ve got a blushing bride on my hands. Well, technically, on my cock, but…”

I covered my face with my hands as I shook my head. “Do you always have to notice EVERY LITTLE THING Tom? Seriously.”

He pulled my hands away carefully and kissed my forehead. “It’s adorable. Reminds me of the day we met…when we were in Kauai Pasta. You were sipping your soda and I watched the flush spread from your chest up your neck and that’s when you took too big a sip and began to choke.”

My jaw dropped. “Oh my god, you saw that? I was, like, half-joking about you noticing every little thing. Christ in a sidecar.”

Shrugging, he brought my left hand to his lips and placed a kiss in the center of my palm. “In my defense, I was bewitched. Mesmerized by your beauty, your essence…your everything. And I’ve always wondered what you were thinking of in that moment…”

“Oh you have, have you? Allow me to fill you in then. The server had just asked us if we wanted cocktails and I thought hmm, I wonder how that particular compound word came to be and that led me to…your cock, Tom. I was thinking about your cock.”

His brow furrowed, eyes narrowed in disbelief. “No you were not.”

I nodded, lips pressed together, eyes wide. “Oh, but yes I was. And, like, I’ve never STOPPED thinking about it so…you know, here we are.”

He roared with laughter, and I realized that it had been entirely far too long since I’d heard that sound, which made me tear up because that laugh…it was akin to a hymn, at least when it fell upon my ears, and my god, how I’d missed it. How I’d missed him.  When he noticed that not only had I not joined in but was visibly upset he guided my head to rest on his shoulder, one hand wound in my hair and the other rubbing my back as he whispered softly.

“Maude, it’s all right. I understand that you may be sad, or angry…whatever it is you’re feeling, I’m here for you. I’m so very, very sorry I haven’t been. But I am now. I’ll help you through all of it. I know it won’t always be easy, for either of us, but we can do it. Together. Together, there’s nothing we can’t do.”

I lifted my head and leaned back, reaching up to trace his jawline with my right index finger. “I’m not sad, really…and I’m not angry…it’s just…I just…I missed you.” I gestured down to where we remained joined. “I missed this. That’s probably selfish and stupid but you…you’re a part of me and this is when you’re MOST a part of me and…and…I’m very, very sorry too. I wasn’t there for you, either. And you’re right about it not always being easy, because this is the big leagues of fuckery. I’m afraid of closed doors and…hello, night terrors. Sometimes it’s hard to be grateful when you’re overwhelmed by fear, but I know for sure I need to turn my focus toward what’s good, and there really, truly is an astonishing abundance of good, isn’t there? I’m here, you’re here, Prog will be here too soon enough…we are blessed, and it’s true…together, there’s nothing we can’t do. I love you. So much. So, so much. My god, we’re having a baby. It still doesn’t seem real…”

He smiled. “I have a sneaking suspicion that after your appointment tomorrow it will seem very, VERY real. In just a few hours, we’re going to get to see Prog. It’s…it’s…”

My eyes squeezed shut. “You mean my appointment this morning. Yikers, it’s so late it’s early and we haven’t slept and between your jaw and my knuckles we’re going to look like we had a knock-down drag out fight, but yes, WE ARE GOING TO SEE PROG.”

He lifted me by my hips, his semi-soft cock slipping out of me, then shifted me sideways so he could pick me up as he rose off the couch. “Off to bed we go, my love.” He carried me into the bedroom and placed me gently on my preferred half of the mattress, then climbed in behind me. “I love you, Maude Hiddleston. Sleep now. I’ll be right here, watching over you. Over you both.”

And I slept. It was fitful, and there were dreams…bad ones…but each time I woke from one, he was there, one arm around my waist, one leg atop both my own…warm and alive, and in that I found peace. Whenever he stirred, and he did often, I’d press my body backward into him and pull his arm tighter around me, stroking it with my fingertips until he stilled again, hopefully having found a peace of his own. The dawn came and went, the alarm began its electronic bleating at 10 AM, and we staggered to the shower hand in hand…gripping loosely, as I was still hurting, though not as much as I thought I would be. By the time we’d finished washing each other, the excitement in the air around us was palpable. Though I was still anxious about the appointment with Dr. Bresden, this was it, the moment. I patted my belly as I was drying the underside of my boobs.

“Hi in there, Prog. Big day today. Mamma and Daddy get to see you. Feel free to wave and stuff, okay? We love you.” Tom gasped, and I turned to look at him. One hand was over his mouth, and his eyes shone with tears. I tilted my head. “What?”

“I don’t…have you…I don’t think I’ve heard you do that before.”

“I have…but maybe not out loud? I think…probably only in my head. Huh. I really don’t know…”

He knelt before me on the tile, first kissing then addressing my stomach. “Prog, you are indeed loved. We can’t wait to see you, and before you know it you’ll be our here in the world with us, and we can’t wait for that, either. To share our lives with you…you, Mamma and me…our little family.” As he stood he wiped away his tears with the back of his left hand, grinning at me. “So…Mamma, then?”

Shrugging, I shook my head back and forth several times. “What can I say? Looks like my New Orleans is showing. It just sounded…”

“Perfect. It sounds perfect, Mamma.” He said it with a drawl, and I sighed.

“Godammit, Tom. That’s not supposed to be sexy.”

His grin widened. “Why not? You’re sexy, so logically...”

“Shut up with your logic.”

“As you wish, my love. Breakfast here or on the road?”

“On the road. Make it a double.”

He embraced me. “We’re off to view a miracle. What a thing.”

“It is. It so is.”

[unitedstatesallnews]

Gabby Petito's Family Claims Cop Who Let Brian Laundrie Go Was ALSO A Serial Cheater Who Threatened His Mistress' Life! Latest news

It’s no secret the officers who pulled over Gabby Petito and Brian Laundrie screwed up. The bodycam footage has been viewed millions of times. We all watched as cops decided Gabby was “the primary aggressor” and threatened to put the distraught 22-year-old in jail for a night — while telling Brian he “did nothing wrong,” even apologizing to him for the inconvenience of the stop. And of course they sent the couple on their way, only for the poor girl to die at the hands of her fiancé just two weeks later. So back in August when Gabby’s family announced they’d be launching a $50 million wrongful death lawsuit against the Moab Police Department, it wasn’t exactly a surprise. On Thursday the quartet of parents, Joseph and Tara Petito and Nichole and Jim Schmidt, officially filed their promised suit. In a press conference, Nichole explained: “We feel we need to bring justice because she could have been protected that day. There are laws put in place to protect victims, and those laws were not followed, and we don’t want this to happen to anyone else.” See the full presser (below): The city of Moab swore to fight the lawsuit, saying in an official response: “The death of Gabrielle Petito in Wyoming is a terrible tragedy, and we feel profound sympathy for the Petito and Schmidt families and the painful loss they have endured. At the same time, it is clear that Moab City Police Department officers are not responsible for Gabrielle Petito’s eventual murder.” In defense of the cops, they even said officers “acted with kindness, respect, and empathy toward Ms. Petito”: “The attorneys for the Petito family seem to suggest that somehow our officers could see into the future based on this single interaction. In truth, on Aug. 12, no one could have predicted the tragedy that would occur weeks later and hundreds of miles away, and the City of Moab will ardently defend against this lawsuit.” Like we said, it seemed to us they had a pretty good case just with everything the public knows. Heck, we assumed they could just roll in a monitor and play the video of the August 12, 2021 stop to the jury. Not only that, an independent investigation has already confirmed that cops made “several unintentional mistakes” during the stop, including failure to take either into custody despite injuries and failure to get an official statement from the witness who called about Brian hitting Gabby in the first place. But there’s apparently more to it… The Sun got hold of the complaint, which does more than accuse the police force of a “sloppy investigation” — it goes after the officers individually! Officer Eric Pratt was the senior law enforcement officer on the scene — or should we say Detective Pratt. Yeah, he’s the one who got promoted afterwards and became the school resource officer at a local elementary school.

(c) Moab Police Department/Facebook Part of the 35-page complaint paints Pratt as an unprofessional, abusive womanizer, citing his time working in Salina, Utah from 2008 to 2017. The legal team claims: “During his time as police chief in Salina, Pratt carried on several extra-marital affairs in the small town.” Wow. One of his alleged mistresses, quoted in the complaint as Witness 1, claimed Pratt often brushed off following through on investigations and ignored cases if it meant more paperwork, saying things like “It’s too much paperwork,” or “There’s no way I’m doing all that paperwork.” She also claims he was violent in their relationship, once telling her, “If this had been a week ago, I would have been digging a grave and you would have been in it.” She says he used his position as chief of police to coerce her into keeping quiet about their affair. The suit alleges: “Pratt pulled Witness 1 over in her car, with her 5-year-old daughter in the back seat… Pratt credibly and clearly threatened her stating, ‘If any of this gets out, I will kill you with a crowbar.'” The frightened ex — who came forward after learning Pratt had been promoted — says she reported Pratt to city officials. While there is no record of any disciplinary action, he did resign from his position a police chief — stating he was “leaving full-time law enforcement” to “pursue other interests.” He also said on a podcast, per the complaint, that he’d become “disillusioned” with police work and would often find “loopholes” in his job.   Related - Black Adam : Latest news 2022 And yet he evenually found another law enforcement position in Moab. As the lawsuit states clearly: “As an officer who described himself as being ‘disillusioned’ with police work and admitted to ‘finding loopholes’ to avoid applying the law, Officer Pratt should never have been rehired as an officer for the Moab Police Department.” The suit says Pratt’s “dangerous approach is evident throughout his interaction with Gabby and Brian” and that it’s clear in the video that he “manipulates” the other officers into not following through with their duties “to get around the requirements of Utah law and his duty to protect Gabby.” Related -Cheryl Burke Opens Up About Matthew Lawrence Divorce, Childhood Sexual Abuse, & Sobriety “Upon information and belief, Officer Pratt is currently the subject of an internal affairs investigation for professional and sexual misconduct involving sex with another Moab Police Department officer.” Wow. We didn’t expect them to dig up so much more on the officers involved. But this looks SO BAD for the Moab PD. We mean… this is the guy they’re swearing to defend?? What do YOU think of the new info in the wrongful death suit? Should Moab just settle or what?? Source link Read the full article

[governmentagencynews]

BUFFALO COUNTY, Neb. – Special Agent in Charge of Homeland Security Investigations (HSI) Kansas City Katherine Greer and Acting United States Attorney Steven Russell announced that Hector Diaz Perez, 26, of Monterey, California, was sentenced on Oct. 21, by United States District Court Judge John M. Gerrard to a term of 83 months’ imprisonment following his conviction for possession of 50 grams or more of methamphetamine actual, with the intent to distribute. After he completes his prison sentence, Diaz Perez will also serve five years on supervised release. There is no parole in the federal system.On Jan. 8, 2020, Diaz Perez and Abel Perez Valdivia were traveling east on Interstate 80 in Buffalo County when they were stopped by a Nebraska State Patrol trooper for driving onto the shoulder of the road twice. The two gave conflicting stories about their travel. Diaz Perez gave troopers consent to search the truck. Troopers then located 10 packages of methamphetamine concealed in the dash. The packages of methamphetamine were sent to the Nebraska State Patrol Crime lab where the packages tested positive for methamphetamine, one of the 10 packages was tested for purity, and it contained at least 420 grams methamphetamine actual. Perez Valdivia, of Salinas, California, also pleaded guilty and was sentenced on Sept. 2, 2022, to 87 months’ imprisonment followed by 3 years of supervised release. This case was investigated by the Nebraska State Patrol and the Central Nebraska Drug and Safe Streets Task Force, which is made up of Homeland Security Investigations special agents, the Grand Island Police Department, Hall County Sheriff, Hastings Police Department, Adams County Sheriff, Kearney Police Department, Buffalo County Sheriff, Nebraska State Patrol, and the FBI. Homeland Security Investigations HSI is a directorate of U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and the principal investigative arm of the U.S. Department of Homeland Security (DHS), responsible for investigating transnational crime and threats, specifically those criminal organizations that exploit the global infrastructure through which international trade, travel, and finance move. HSI’s workforce of over 10,400 employees consists of more than 6,800 special agents assigned to 225 cities throughout the United States, and 93 overseas locations in 56 countries. HSI’s international presence represents DHS’s largest investigative law enforcement presence abroad and one of the largest international footprints in U.S. law enforcement. Learn more about HSI’s mission to combat drug trafficking in your community, on Twitter @HSIKansasCity.