Chapter Twenty

Smuggling Centaurs

Ben awoke to the sound of his phone ringing. He felt his thoughts slowly congeal as his arm automatically grabbed the receiver. His arm impacted his alarm clock on his dresser and knocked it off.  The clock fell until it reached the end of the cord, jerking it to a halt a foot above the floor. Cursing slightly as the phone rang again, he grabbed the clock before it could finish falling and shoved it back onto the dresser. Grabbing the receiver, he barked, "Chief Gardner here."

"Chief, its Officer Michael." The voice on the other end of the line was grim.

"What's going on Mark?" The other man's voice had put him on edge, and he ran through a mental checklist of what could have happened, ranging from a shootout involving officers to a traffic fatality.

"It's bad chief." The voice hesitated, and then plunged on. "It's your family's farm. Officer McCallahan found it while on patrol. I'm sorry, sir. They're gone."

Ben gripped the phone as if it were the only thing real to him. His vision blurred, and he could only think; It can't be. He dimly heard Mike continue speaking, but it didn't register with him. There was a roaring noise in his ears and he felt the phone creak in his grip. Taking a slow, deep breath, he felt the mission focus come over him. Speaking calmly and coolly, he began barking instructions to Mike. "All right. Get a hold of the Crime Unit and have them get out to the farm and process the scene. I'll get out there as soon as I can."

"On it, chief." Mike said. The click of the phone going dead told him that Mike was getting it done.

After replacing the receiver, Ben sat dumbly on the edge of the bed. He felt numb. A sense of unreality pervaded him. He wanted desperately to believe that if dialed his parent's number, he would hear his mother's gentle voice laughing at him and telling him that everything was fine, and that he had to come over for dinner. He closed his eyes, visualizing his mother and father at the kitchen table, just setting down to breakfast. His father would already have been up and in the barn, preparing his tractors and feeding the cattle.

Realizing that he still needed to get going, he got off the bed and quickly dressed. Grabbing his service weapon from the safe behind the painting, and he then left the house. Getting behind the wheel, he started the sirens and peeled out of his driveway.

At the speed he was traveling, the hour's drive was done in less than twenty minutes. He spun into the drive, gravel flying as he tore down the long driveway. Within moments he was at the farm. There were dozens of units already there. He also spotted the coroner's black van, and the CSU dark sedan already there. He saw they were gathered around the barn. His heart flip-flopped in his chest. Where the girl's in there as well? No. There would be a bigger stir.

He pulled up and got out of the car. He found himself hesitating at the door to the barn. For the first time ever, he was afraid of what he would find. He had seen far worse in his years on the force. There was that incident in Bahrain with the grenade lobbed into a car full of journalists, a murder in Chicago involving a sixteen-year old girl, and a pimp fed into a wood chipper. But this was a lot worse. Can I do this? He wondered. Do I dare go in? This fear was irrational. There should be no problem, he told himself firmly. He could do this. Now, he thought wryly, if he repeated it enough he might start believing it.

Mentally steeling himself, he walked past the guard on duty, and then walked into the barn. It was almost the same as from last night. It was unreal. His eyes were drawn immediately to the body bags being loaded on the gurneys.

As they wheeled the first gurney past him, he held up his hands. The tech looked at him for a moment before stepping away. He looked down at the black bag for a long moment before grasping the zipper and pulling it down. The face of his mother looked up at him. She seemed so at ease, like she was simply resting. Dried blood fanned across her face from a gaping, ugly wound on her forehead. Execution style murder, he realized. He turned to the second gurney. He pulled the zipper down and saw an identical wound in the face of his father. Here, the face was locked in a rictus of anger, as if his father were about to chew out his murderer. His father would never upbraid anyone ever again, Ben thought sadly. He rezipped the bags and stepped out of the way. The techs gave him a sympathetic look as they wheeled their charges out of the barn.

He stood for a moment, just to pull himself together, before heading to where MacCallahan stood nervously near the cattle chute. "MacCallahan." He said by way of greeting, "How are you holding up?"

Her eyes opened wide. The look was actually rather comical, and in spite of the situation, he felt a flash of mirth at the look on her face. "Ah, I'm fine sir. It's you I'm worried about." She replied. She studied his face, looking for any sign of trauma. Her questing eyes met granite. Ben let none of the pain he was feeling inside show. MacCallahan gulped nervously and actually saluted before stepping back.

Oh great. Another rumor started that I'm an iron bastard. Ben actually chuckled darkly. The reputation would enhance even more when he got a hold of Nightshade. That was one bust he was looking forward too. He fantasized having Nightshade in front of him, disarmed and helpless. It was a heady thought, and he quickly pushed it back. No point in fantasizing about it, it would better to make it real.

Her long raven hair was done into a tight bun, under her regulation Clark County Sherriff hat. Her body was lean, in tip-top condition. Sherriff Raven Alderhood. Ben knew her reputation as a tough, no nonsense Sherriff with a habit of digging until she had the whole truth. Ben felt a trickle of sweat run down his back. If Raven found even a hint of the girls, she would keep prying until she got at the truth. That would be disastrous in keeping the girls out of the limelight.

Ben realized what he was thinking. Hell, keeping them on the farm sure didn't keep them safe. Why the hell hadn't he called in the government when he had had the chance? The worst thing that could have happened to the girls is endless doctor exams! Now they were gone, kidnapped for who knows what. Ben could only hope for ransom. If a note was given, or call made, then he could bring the girls back safe. Then he could get his revenge. Ben made a mental not to remember to call Greg and see if a ransom had been phoned in. In the meantime...there was something he had to do.

"MacCallahan." He barked. His subordinate ran up to him.

"Y-yes chief?" She asked. Do I really look that frightening? He wondered as she trembled in front of him. Of course, he couldn't see how very hot his eyes were. His people said later that it was like looking into the pits of hell.

"Get every unit we have out along the highway and county roads. Have them stop and search every vehicle with a horse or other trailer. Immediately." Ben told her. MaCallahan frowned up at him, and opened her mouth to ask the obvious questions. However, Ben gave her his best stony stare. Her jaw clicked shut and she almost scurried to her radio. It seemed his orders could be followed without question. Now, to distract Sherriff Raven and keep her off the kid's trail. Ben felt a momentary pang of guilt. It was his duty to uphold the law, and with the death of his parents, he desperately wanted to find the bastards responsible and rip their guts out. But, he had the kids to worry about as well. He didn't want them to end up lab rats in some government facility, and his town to become an armed quarantine zone.

He turned around and came ball cap brim to Sherriff's hat brim with Raven. She blinked and took a step back when she saw his face. Do I really look that scary? Ben wondered. He thought about it for a minute, then decided that yes, he probably did look that scary right now. Sherriff Raven took a second to collect herself and looked up with her notebook.

She paused for a moment before asking quietly, "Are you going to be all-right, Ben?" Definitely not professional, but they had been friends for years. Ben nodded to show that he was. He was still waiting for the hammer of his emotions to fall.

Raven looked briskly down at her notes. "At nearly 1 o'clock this morning, as near as the ME can determine, Mrs. Gardner was killed by a single shot to the head. Her nightdress was stained as if she had been kneeling, and her limbs were bound together. The shot was execution style, and lack of exit wound indicates that the bullet is still in the skull. Mr. Gardner was found similarly bound and gagged. However, his wound occurred almost an hour later. The ME is hoping to firm up time of death there. There is no sign of forced entry in the house, indicating that Mr. or Mrs. Gardner knew their killer. There are fresh tire tracks near the chute. The killers took the time to disassemble the chute using screwdrivers. The noise probably alerted the victims, who came to investigate and died. Now, do you have any idea why anyone would go through that much effort?"

Ben shook his head. He wanted to say Yes! Yes! The mayor's daughter and her friend are centaurs and were kidnapped! My parents simply got in the way. However, he kept silent.

Raven made a mark in her notebook. "Okay. Do you know if your parent's had any recent prize cattle or horses?"

It was a good guess, and Ben was tempted to let her think that. However, as far as he knew, his parents had not made any recent livestock purchases, and being caught in a lie this early would be a bad idea. Ben shook his head. "No." He said calmly. "As far as I know, there were no recent livestock purchases."

Another tick mark in the notebook. "All right. Now, perhaps you could solve another mystery here." She walked to the stalls where the girls had lived. Ben trailed behind her, wondering how in the world he was going to cover this up.

She pulled aside the curtain in one of the stalls to reveal a pile of mattresses, a stand and a lamp. Nothing else. Ben looked around at the scene avidly, taking in all the details. He knew from his visits, that the girls had a lot of personal effects in their rooms here. Everything from clothes to pocket mirrors had been scattered about the stalls. Now the stalls were bare of them, except the furniture. It told Ben that the killers had apparently taken everything the girls had owned or referenced. It was a stroke of luck for him. The girl's would have their cell phones in their packs, he knew they would never go anywhere without them. Also, other than the obvious references that someone had been living in the barn, there was no identifying features that showed who. A belief that was confirmed with her next question:

"OK. Now obviously someone has been living here in the barn. Do you have any idea who? And why they were in the barn and not in the house?"

Ben furrowed his head as if he was thinking. He was no great shakes at acting, but he was going to try. "Not sure. When last we spoke, there wasn't anybody coming to visit as far as they knew. Perhaps someone dropped in unexpectedly?"

The look on her face told him she wasn't buying it. "And he had enough time to build two rooms from horse stalls? Come on Chief. I'm not that dumb."

She paused and looked closer at his face. Ben immediately donned his iron commander's mask. He couldn't reveal who had been staying at his parent's barn.

"There's something you're not telling me chief." Raven said quietly, staring back at him. A tinge of red suffused her cheeks. "I don't like it when people don't tell me what's going on, especially in a murder investigation." She said heatedly. Ben was grateful she kept her voice low. The potential for an embarrassing situation if she started shouting at him would make things difficult for him.

Ben was trying to decide how exactly to respond when MacCallahan came to the stalls and told him his orders had been given. Ben cursed inwardly. It was bad timing on her part, for Raven immediately went on point.

"Orders, what orders?" she asked, turning and frowning at him. She toyed with her radio, and Ben knew she was itching to call central and find out what orders had been issued. He had to give up some information.

Ben dismissed MacCallahan and turned to Raven. "I saw the disassembled chute when I walked up here. I was honest with you; I had no idea if Mom and Dad had purchased any new livestock while I've been in town. However, a chute like that means a trailer and truck at the least. On my way in, I took a gamble and ordered all trucks with horse-trailers stopped and searched."
Now that Ben had had time to think about his orders, he realized they might not have been his best. Any officer worth his salt that saw centaurs would immediately report suspicious activity and he would be required to explain how the mayor's daughter was part horse. He filed that problem away for when it would come up. If they never found the trailer, that wouldn't be an issue. No! They had to find the trailer. He mentally winced at his slip. He had to think positive.

Raven stared at him, searching for any sign that he was lying. Ben kept the mask on, hoping to fool her. She finally nodded slowly. "You may be right. I had planned on waiting until we had determined make and model from the tires, but I suppose a broad search order would be more useful. You'll need a warrant to do so, however." Ben nodded. "We have probable cause here. I was going to phone in for the official paperwork when this session is over."

Raven took a step back. "Well, for now I guess it is over. You're not telling me what you know, and I haven't got anything to hold you. For now."

Ben found himself admiring Raven's determination to get the truth out of him. She'd make a fine detective, or even chief, someday. Out loud, he said; "I'll get on the calls then. I'll keep in touch."

As he turned away, he thought he heard her mutter, "I doubt that you'll tell me anything Chief." She was right of course. He didn't dare tell her anything. He was turning out to be the exact witness he hated, one that gave clues out in dribbles and had to be clubbed into submission. Raven didn't deserve it, but he had no choice. He punched in the mayor's number. If he was going to get the girls back, he needed to convince the judge to okay the warrant for a broad search order.