Julia Spencer-Fleming - I Shall Not Want

The chief cracked his door open. Instantly, the dogs surged forward, growling and baring their teeth. He slammed it shut again, swearing. He grabbed the mic and switched the speakers to outside broadcast. "This is the Millers Kill Police." The chief's words, amplified, echoed back from the house and barn. "We need to ask you a few questions. Call back your dogs and restrain them." The echo caused a feedback, and the chief's speech ended with an electronic squeal. He dropped the mic.

"Hate that thing," he said.

They waited. Nothing happened. No lights came on or off, which Kevin supposed was good, but no one stepped onto the porch to whistle in the German shepherds. "What do you think's happening in there?" he asked.

The chief held up one finger. "They're just now figuring out what they heard wasn't part of the ten o'clock news." He held up a second finger. "Or they're running around the house like rats, collecting bags of pot and meth and Oxys and flushing them down the toilet as fast as they can pull the chain." He held up a third finger. "Or they're arming themselves, because you can't get rid of a body in five minutes. That's the one that worries me." He unsnapped his holster and drew his Glock.40. "Hope for the best, plan for the worst," he said. He opened the magazine and checked it.

Kevin unholstered his Colt.44 and did the same.

The chief flicked the speaker system on again. "Donald and Neil Christie. If you're not out here in three minutes restraining these dogs, my men and I will have to shoot them." This time, he turned the mic off before it could catch the bounceback.

"We're not really going to shoot the dogs, are we?" Kevin knew he sounded unprofessional, but shit. Dogs? He didn't know if he could do it.

"I sure as hell don't want to," the chief said. "On the other hand, if Amado Esfuentes is in there, I'm not going to sit on my ass out here while they do what they want with him."

"But… the dogs? It's not their fault they're behaving like this. Somebody trained them to do it."

The chief shifted in his seat a little to where he could see Kevin straight on. "Sometimes you're going to be in a situation where there aren't any good choices, Kevin. You just have to pick the better of two bad ones, and learn to live with the outcome." The chief got a funny look on his face. Kevin thought he might say more, but then a light flashed from the house and they straightened to see the two beefy brothers step out onto the porch. Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dumber, Eric had called them. They looked pissed off, but they appeared to be unarmed. Then a shorter, more slender man joined them.

"Interesting." The chief rubbed his thumb over his lip. "I wonder why Bruce Christie's making a late visit to the old homestead." After the Christies called up the German shepherds and shut them in the house, the chief and Kevin got out. The chief secured his weapon again, but left the holster un-snapped. Ready to go. Kevin did the same. He heard the heavy thunks of the other cruiser's doors closing from somewhere beside the barn. MacAuley and Noble, making sure no one was stealing away out back.

"You got a lotta nerve-" Donald Christie began.

Bruce thumped him in his chest. "How can we help you, Chief?"

"You can start by telling me where you all were tonight."

"Right here. At home."

"You living here now, Bruce?"

Bruce Christie grinned. "Just until your boys catch the sumbitch who trashed my trailer." He gestured toward them. "You guys look like one a them SWAT teams, all armored up like that. What's goin' on?"

"Someone broke into Reverend Fergusson's house in town." Donald Christie's hand flew to his nose. Kevin pressed his lips together to keep from showing his amusement. "They tore it up pretty bad. The church's janitor, who was living there, is missing." The chief looked at Neil Christie. "You remember him, right, Neil? I mean, before Reverend Fergusson knocked you unconscious."

The big man grunted.

"Sounds like it might be the same crew as broke into my place," Bruce said. "You sure the Mexican isn't workin' with 'em?"

"I'll tell you what I'm sure of. I'm sure your brothers went to St. Alban's in May looking for Amado Esfuentes. I'm sure they would've beat the crap out of him if they could have. And I'm sure interested in taking a look around here to see if maybe you all brought him home tonight for a little talking-to."

Bruce Christie kept on smiling. "You got a warrant, Chief?"

Without taking his eyes off Bruce, the chief pulled his phone from his pocket. He tossed it to Kevin, who tried to look matter-of-fact about catching it. "Officer Flynn," the chief said, "Assistant District Attorney Amy Nguyen is number eight on my speed dial. I want you to ask her to take the Christies' case file to Judge Ryswick with a search warrant request." His voice took on a confidential tone, clearly directed at Bruce. "Your brothers' case was filed, not dismissed. Which means it can be reopened at any time." He glanced at his watch. "I expect we'll be here about two hours, waiting for the warrant to arrive." He looked back up to the porch, where Bruce Christie's pleasant veneer was cracking. "I figure by then, in order to justify our overtime, we'll have to go over your place with a fine-tooth comb." He glanced at Kevin. "Officer Flynn, where's the nearest K-Nine unit?"

Kevin stepped up to the plate. "The Capital Area Drug Enforcement Association has a trained narcotics-sniffing dog available in Kingston, Chief. His handler could be here in under an hour." He held up the phone. "You want me to call him?"

"I don't know, Officer Flynn." The chief looked at the Christies. "What do you think, Bruce?"

"The Mexican's not here. He got the message to stay away from our sister. We don't have no other business with him."

"Izzy ain't seeing him no more," Neil said. "He didn't understand when she told him to clear off, 'cause he don't speak no English."

Kevin thought Neil wasn't doing so hot in that department himself.

The chief spread his hands. "All we're looking for is Amado. I'm not interested in anything else. Yet."

The Christies looked at one another. Donald spoke up. "I don't want you scaring nobody. We got kids here, some a my fiancée's and some a mine while their mom is outta town."

"I suspect the best way not to scare them is if we all cooperate."

The Christies looked at one another again. Bruce nodded to his brothers. Turned toward the chief. "All right," he said.

The chief motioned toward the barn. "Two of my men will search the barn. It'd go faster and easier if one of you went with them."

Bruce Christie cut a sharp glance at his brothers. "I'll go." He clattered down the stairs and headed for the three-story structure. Kevin tagged the barn as the most likely spot for whatever illegal substances the Christies were hiding.

The chief reached inside the cruiser and snatched the mic. "Lyle?" he said.

The speaker cracked on. "Here."

"Bruce Christie is headed your way to show you around his barn. Make sure you get a look at any outbuildings as well."

"Roger that."

The chief rehitched the mic and held out a hand toward Kevin. It took him a beat, but he figured out what the chief wanted. He dropped the phone in his hand and bent close enough not to be overheard by the two remaining Christies. "Won't Bruce just get in their way? Try to keep them from seeing what he doesn't want them to see?"

"I want to split them up," the chief said, in the same low tone. "If we stumble onto something, we'll only have one to deal with." He stepped toward the porch stairs and raised his voice. "Do you have a kennel or a run for the dogs?"

"Ayeah," Donald said.

"Good. I'd like one of you to put them away. None of us wants an unfortunate accident because a dog got overexcited."