Iona the Crazy Bitch

One night, Santa’s Helper was riding with Dennis T. They were assigned to the northwest and got a call to a shot house in a dilapidated part of town. It was a disturbance call between the man that ran a shot house and one of our less mentally stable residents. Seems like Iona was pissed because he wouldn’t sell to her on credit so she was causing a fuss running off his other customers. By the time they arrived, Iona had left and gone to her house down the road.

Santa’s Helper and Dennis left and went to Iona’s house. She was not too happy to see them because she was jonesing for a drink. Santa’s Helper knew her really well; they had been dealing with each other for years. She had never been dangerous, just crazy. He walked up on the porch, stood square in the door, talking to her. She all of a sudden pulled out a small derringer and pointed it at him. He was not a small man nor in good shape but according to Dennis T, he jumped backwards over the railing. He cleared the railing and a silver garbage can before Iona could get off a shot. Dennis T said that he could not believe he could move that fast.

They called for back up and made the arrest. They tore up the house but could not find the gun. They assumed that she had it on her and asked dispatch to have me meet them at the jail for a strip search. I do not have the words to tell you just how very much I HATE to strip search women. I have never met one that did not lack personal hygiene to the nth degree! It seemed like they are always on the rag and didn’t use store bought supplies most of the time.

I was assigned to ride with Johnny B that night. It was his personal mission in life to try and make mine a living hell! I didn’t like country music so he played country music very loud and anything else that he could think up. He pulled the senior officer card any time someone threw up or pissed themselves.

I was the only female officer and we did not have any females working in the jail so I had to go. Johnny B started laughing as soon as dispatch called. He talked the whole time about nasty she was and how mean she could be. Iona was not a small woman and mentally unstable people can be unpredictable and hard to control.

When we got to the jail, they told me that they were pretty sure that Iona had a gun hidden on her somewhere. I took her back into the small kitchen to do the search. Johnny B said he would be right outside the door and to yell if I needed help.

I had Iona place her hands on the counter and began the pat down. It was before the HIV scare so latex gloves were not provided. I checked her pockets, under her arms, around her waistband but did not find the gun. I ran the back of my hand between her legs to check her crotch and felt the gun. I told her that I was getting the gun and if she breathed wrong, I would shoot her. I ran my hands down into her pants and pulled out the derringer wrapped in a filthy red bandana.

I hollered to Johnny B that I found the gun and asked him to stick his hand in the door for it. He stuck his hand in the door and I plopped that dirty, nasty crotchy bandana down right in the palm of his hand.

I forgot to tell you that Johnny B had a germ phobia and paybacks are hell.