After unsuccessfully trying to locate a motorcycle reportedly submerged in Bear Creek, deputies contacted the reporting party. The man – himself apparently awash in strong libations – led them to the stream and somewhat impatiently pointed out the sunken bike and the ghastly human body trapped beneath it. Alas, try as they might, the officers saw only an old broken taillight and small, waterlogged tree branches in the clear, shallow water. Satisfied of his mistake, the man allowed himself to be escorted home where he immediately got into a screaming match with his landlords, who told deputies they’d just as soon not have him back under the circumstances. Seeking sanctuary in his upstairs apartment, the man declined to come down and refused to keep his hands in plain sight. When pressed to vacate, the man laid hands on the peace officers and received a double-Taser-whammy for his trouble. Deputies arrested the electronically chastened fellow for obstruction.

A deputy was summoned to probe a case of unrequited love. According to the young Juliet of the house, she’d only yester-eve dispatched a forcefully-worded electronic text-parchment to her tarnished Romeo of four years bidding him never darken her iPod again. Distraught, but strong of heart and thumb, the romantic castaway responded with no fewer than 25 tender and protracted communiqués offering his thoughts on their troubled relationship and plighting eternal troth. Irritated, his Queen of Hearts bade the officer end the wordy persecutions forthwith. Though finding nothing in the sappy prose of a threatening or dishonorable character, the deputy phoned the tragic fellow and suggested he put down his cyber-quill anon.

At about 2 o’clock in the morning, a JCSO deputy
pulled over a gray Volkswagen with Oklahoma plates after it wandered over a
double-yellow on Brook Forest Road and nearly joined him in the front seat of
his patrol car. The talkative young lady behind the wheel sloppily explained
that she was merely headed home from her bartending shift at an elegant
Kittredge restaurant. Since her shift ended at 10 p.m. and her breath was
stripping the finish off his badge, the officer wondered if maybe she’d used
the 4-hour interval to knock back a few, or a few dozen. “I’m not going to say
anything because I don’t want to incriminate myself,” she barely pronounced,
right before launching into a rambling explanation about how she’d spent the
time doing “paperwork, employee evaluations, etcetera, etcetera.” As luck would
have it, a noble Samaritan sporting Georgia plates and claiming to manage her
place of work stopped at the scene. He explained that he was “following her to
make sure she got home safely,” although he couldn’t explain how following in a
separate vehicle ensured anything besides a good view to her misfortune. On the
way down to Jeffco’s lock-up, the synthetically emotional woman ran by turns
hostile and sarcastic, surly and depressed, sullen and loudly musical. On
arrival, she sought to confound her tormentor by standing board-stiff just
outside the door, but he artfully countered the ruse by physically dragging her
into the booking office and citing her for driving while high as an elephant’s
eye.

A man called JCSO to report that he’d confronted
a suspicious “partial Hispanic” fellow parked in his driveway on the afternoon
of Sept. 21. The racially ambiguous visitor carried a large manila envelope
with the man’s wife’s name misspelled on the front that he said contained legal
documents that must be hand-delivered to the addressee. The uninvited guest
wouldn’t give the envelope to the complainant, and the complainant wouldn’t say
when or where his wife might be located. His alleged mission a presumed
failure, the stranger left. Pressed by the officer for details, the man
described the interloper as a 6-foot-tall 20-something wearing jeans and a
T-shirt, and pegged him at “30-percent Hispanic.” He thought the truck might
have been red, but couldn’t be certain because he’s “color blind.”

A woman on Kings Valley Drive summoned deputies at about 7:30 a.m. on Feb. 4 to investigate an unauthorized nap. The night before, she explained, she’d left the house empty, the garage wide open and the doors unlocked for about 7 hours while she recreated elsewhere with friends. Finally retiring to her bedroom at about 3:30 a.m., she was alarmed to discover her pillow and bedspread suspiciously arrayed on the floor as if someone had snoozed on them. Fearing an intruder, she called a friend and together they determined that they were alone in the house and nothing appeared missing or disordered. Even more reassuring, the several large dogs that inhabit the residence and which had been locked in that very bedroom throughout her absence seemed completely unruffled. On reflection, she allowed the possibility that the dogs may have pushed the bedding to the floor. Since the dogs aren’t talking, the case is closed.