Heartfield Ranch (Communities of Discipline Book 2) (11 page)

“I didn’t do anything,” she said, shaking her head.

“Sure you did!” He turned to he camera. “Never let it be said that Sheriff Smith doesn’t champion diversity on his force. I plucked this little lady from the ranks – hand-picked her, if you will – to go undercover here at Heartfield. If it weren’t for her, I would have never gotten the tip that Jake Markum, who we arrested today for possession, was a suspect in what we believe is a large illegal drug trade stemming from Heartfield, which uses a cover of a peace-loving compound to carry out their evil deeds.”

“Excuse me, but…” Karen stepped forward to object, but the sheriff and the cameraman were turning as two Heartfielders she didn’t recognize were being led away.

“Clay, you don’t think I..” she began, suddenly afraid that he’d believed the sheriff.

“Don’t worry, Karen,” he seethed. “I don’t believe a thing that snake says.”

“Darling, darling!” Melissa Fales was pushing her way through the crowd now, heading toward her daughter. Ann Marie stood her ground, calmly waiting for her mother to approach. When she did, the older woman grasped her daughter by the arm. “I’m here now,” she said. “I’m here and I want you to know Daddy and I are going to get you the help that you need – the best help that money can buy.” She looked around in disgust. “My god, it’s worse than I thought. But don’t worry. By the time Sheriff Smith is done with these people, they won’t ever be able to hurt you ag..”

Melissa Fales didn’t even see the blow coming, but in the next moment she was on the ground, holding her bloody nose and looking up at her daughter in shock.

“Mother, the only person who has ever hurt me is you.” Ann Marie was crying now. “You’ve done nothing but meddle and micromanage my life since I was a baby. You never really wanted a daughter; you only wanted a puppet to parade around, another jewel in your crown of accomplishments. You never cared about me. Admit it! And Daddy was too weak to insist you be the kind of mother he knew I needed.”

From the side of the limo, Harlan Fales looked away, his eyes swimming with tears of guilt. He met his daughter’s gaze briefly before she turned back to her mother.

“The charges against the man I love – my husband – are false. You know it, but you’ll do anything to get your way, won’t you? Even if it means destroying the lives of people who’ve done nothing to hurt you in any way.”

Melissa Fales scrambled to her feet, still holding her nose as it leaked blood on her designer blouse. Pointing a knobby finger at her daughter, she ran over to the sheriff.

“Arrest her!” she cried. “Arrest my daughter! She assaulted me! I’m her mother. She can’t do that!”

Sheriff Smith tried to calm the woman, but she only became more irate. “No! No! No! I said arrest her! And I mean it! You arrest her this minute or there will be no campaign cash, not from me, not from my friends! You’ll get nothing I promised you for breaking up this despicable place! Do you hear me?”

Sheriff Smith’s face went pale and he hastened to calm Melissa Fales, reaching into his pocket to give her a handkerchief for her nose.  “Calm down,” he said. “Just calm down. Of course I’ll arrest her!” He took the cuffs from his belt and walked over, grabbing Ann Marie and reading her rights as he did.

Karen walked over to him and stood just inches from his ear. “Need any help with that, Sheriff?” she asked. “Or do you ever need any help with the miscarriage of justice.”

He looked at her, hard.

“You do know you’re finished on this force, don’t you?”

“I certainly do,” she said. “But unlike you, when I leave this force, it’s going to be with a clear conscience, and by my own choice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” her boss snapped.

“Only that I know some things you don’t know,” she said. “One is that a camera just caught everything Melissa Fales just said.”

The sheriff’s face went pale. “And what’s the other?”

“I can’t say yet,” Karen said, but inside she prayed that Jarvis would be true to his word and show up to save the day.

“Officer Patterson, I demand that you tell me what you meant by that!” Sheriff Smith was red-faced now as he stepped toward her.

“I think you need to back off.” Clay Sanders stepped forward, but Karen warned him back with her eyes.  While she appreciated his desire to protect her, some things she needed to do on her own. But before the exchange could go any further, more police cars appeared on the horizon. And more news vans. The compound itself was in pandemonium. Cops were everywhere, going through homes and the barn and sheds on the property. Some of the objecting members were being cuffed and put into cars, and Karen wondered how much other evidence was being planted on the Heartfielders.

Karen breathed a sigh of relief as she spotted Capt. Jarvis’ vehicle. But it was Sheriff Smith who rushed forward first.

“Jarvis, where the hell have you and Clemmons been?” This operation’s been under way for thirty minutes now!”

Jarvis stepped out of his car along with Clemmons. “Sorry, boss,” Clemmons answered. “We just wanted to make sure the state boys got into this.”

“The state?” Smith looked over and watched as two plainclothes, burly state police officers emerged from another car that had pulled up.

“The feds have also been called,” Jarvis said.

“Well, good, good,” Smith said. “I’m glad you thought of that.” He smiled toward another news crew as it emerged from the van. A reporter walked forward and extended his hand.

“Robert Klein, TV-6 News, sir. How are you, Sheriff?”

“Fine, son, fine. And I’m glad you showed up here, because this is going to be a big story for you.”

Karen felt as if she were going to be sick. He was turning the destruction of this community into a media event. And Jarvis and Clemmons weren’t even looking at her. A terrible thought occurred to Karen – was it possible that they had changed their minds? Had they put job security ahead of exposing what was really going on in their department?

Jarvis was at her elbow now, and she looked up at him.

“Good work, Officer Patterson,” he said, his tone officious. Karen felt her heart sink, but then Jarvis winked and she knew that everything was going to be alright.

The media were assembled now and Jarvis stepped forward along with Clemmons. The Sheriff looked suddenly perturbed as they stepped in front and began to talk to the reporters and cameras.

“Could I have your attention, please?” Jarvis asked. “I know we’re here for a raid, but there is more to this story that I think you should know about.”

“Jarvis, what the hell?” Sheriff Smith began, but Jarvis ignored him.

“Yesterday, Sheriff Smith asked me to retrieve a packet of cocaine from the evidence locker – a packet of cocaine from the arrest of Richard Martinez, a suspect set to go on trial next month. I probably should have questioned his order, but I didn’t. This morning, Heartfield resident Jake Markum was arrested, and found in possession of cocaine that some of us believe was planted on him under orders of Sheriff Smith.”

“What?” The sheriff stepped forward, livid. “That’s bullshit and you know it! What is this, Jarvis? Did my opponent put you up to this?”

“No,” Clemmons said. “He – we – aren’t making this up. That’s why we’re late to the party.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tape.

“What is that?” Sheriff Smith scoffed.

“It’s the tape from my cruiser dashboard camera,” Jarvis said. “When you cornered me in the parking lot yesterday, my dash cam was still on. I didn’t realize it until late this morning, but as soon as I did, I checked and the entire conversation was recorded.”

Smith reached up and snatched the tape from Jarvis’ hand. “Bullshit!” he said. “Nothing but slanderous, bullshit grandstanding.” He threw the tape on the ground and smashed it repeatedly with his foot. In his zeal, his cowboy hat fell from his head, exposing a toupee dangerously close to falling off.

“You can stomp all you want,” Clemmons said. “We’ve made copies. In fact, the state boys already have some. If you in the media want yours, just let me know.”

The sheriff was sputtering now as the media began to turn their attention to Jarvis, indicating in unison that they did want the tape.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Jarvis said. “On a hunch I pulled the tape from the evidence room, so if anything else that turns up here shows up missing from there, it’s not going to look very good for you.” He glared at his boss. “Sheriff.”

The state men had stepped forward now, and the media had all but forgotten about the Heartfielders, who were already being released from their cuffs as the state officers began reading Sheriff Smith his rights.

Clay reached down and squeezed Karen’s hand. “Good work, Officer Patterson,” he said.

***

Jake Markum was home by nightfall. He and Ann Marie had been inseparable since his return. Karen watched them from her place beside Clay in the assembly room, where a celebration had been hastily convened.

“You need a television here,” she said, turning to face him. They were sitting on a large beanbag chair in the corner, his arm draped over her shoulder.

“No televisions,” he said.

“Whatever,” Karen shrugged. “But if you had one, you could at least watch the news coverage. Clemmons called me a bit ago to say it’s on CNN.”

“Wow,” Clay said. “Impressive. But not impressive enough to get a television over.”

Karen laughed and leaned into Clay. Sitting with him felt bittersweet because she knew it wouldn’t last. Now that the investigation into Heartfield was coming to a close, she had no legitimate reason to stay. People who lived on the compound did not hold outside work, and Karen was still employed by the police force.

She didn’t know how to tell Clay that she was going to leave, but suspected he already knew it by the way he caressed her, stealing kisses in their private moments and then tracing her face, as if trying to memorize it.

“You don’t have to go,” he whispered in her ear, and she was again surprised by how he almost seemed able to read her thoughts.

“I can’t stay,” she said sadly. “Tomorrow I’ll go back to work and write my report. Heartfield will be exonerated. The SBI guys are going to want to talk to me, so that’ll take a couple of days, I’m sure.”

“And after that?” Clay dropped a kiss onto her shoulder.

She sighed. “After that, we go back to her lives.” Karen felt a lump rise in her throat.  “It wouldn’t work, Clay. After what the people here have been through, I don’t think they’ll ever trust cops again, or anyone who has been a cop. Everyone here is so unified – well, almost everyone. I know there are occasional issues with jealousy among some of the women. I don’t want to come in here and rock the boat. I’ve caused enough problems already.”

They were both quiet for a moment, and when Clay spoke, his own voice was tight with sadness and longing. “Well then, I guess there’s nothing more I can say. From this moment you’re no longer my responsibility. Consider yourself completely released from my authority.”

“Thanks.” Karen stood. “I guess I’d better get to bed. I head out early in the morning and I’m pretty tired.”

She turned and walked out of the assembly hall and then broke into a run as she caught sight of the Wickham’s house. She couldn’t get in fast enough and it occurred to her that she’d been dishonest with Clay yet again. She wasn’t tired, but distraught. Clay had officially released her from his authority, and never in Karen’s life had she felt so completely lost.

“Well, look who’s back!” The police room erupted into a standing ovation as Karen Patterson walked in.

“Officer Patterson,” said Capt. Jarvis, who’d been named interim sheriff until after the election. “Detective Patterson, now.”

Karen forced a smile. The promotion had been one of the first official acts of her co-worker, but it did little to make her feel better. She’d thought coming back to work would help get her mind off of Clay, and off of Heartfield. But everything about her normal life seemed to be a painful juxtaposition to what she’d experienced on the compound.

Karen hated the idea of sliding back into the old patterns, of meeting the same old expectations. She felt stifled by them now, trapped by them, and she knew deep inside she didn’t want to be a cop anymore. She wanted to be a woman – a simple woman who spent her days digging in the dirt and making things grow, a simple woman who put good meals on the table and curled up at night in the arms of her man, her leader, her protector.

“Karen, are you OK?” Clemmons walked over and sat down in the chair across from her new desk.

“Yeah, Clem, I’m fine,” she said. “Just a little tired.”

“So how weird was it?” he asked.

“How weird was what?”

“You know, the kooky compound.” Clemmons leaned back in his chair and popped a peanut in his mouth, obviously waiting to be entertained by stories of Hippies Gone Wild.

Karen grew quiet, searching for words. “It was different, to be sure,” she said. “But in a good way. A healthy way.”

“Healthy?” Clemmons scoffed. “They don’t even have television.”

“No,” Karen said. “They don’t. Or video games. Or cell phones. And they don’t go to bars or the mall or spend their time keeping up with the Joneses. They just simply live.”

“And you thought that was nice?” he asked.

Karen smiled wistfully. “Yeah, I did.”

Clemmons regarded her skeptically. “Did they put a chip in your brain?”

Karen laughed, wadded up a piece of paper, and tossed it at him, laughing louder when it glanced off the top of his head.

***

“Things happen for a reason.” Adam came out on the porch of the assembly hall and sat down beside his friend. “Isn’t that what you always tell us when we’re down?”

Clay smiled. Since Karen’s departure, he’d been quieter than usual. Those who didn’t know suspected it was because he’d developed feelings for the female police officer, and had hoped she would stay. It was difficult seeing a strong man like Clay grieving the loss of the first woman he’d gotten serious about since they’d known him. It wasn’t a difficult decision to give him space.

“Yep, that’s what I say,” he said, taking another sip of cider as he watched the setting sun. “Doesn’t make things any easier, though.”

“Nope, it never does,” Adam said. “But it’s true nonetheless. Who knows, Clay. If she’d stayed she may have ended up hating it here, hating us. Maybe even hating you. It’s a hard adjustment for some women.”

Clay shook his head. “Nah, Adam. Karen would have made it here. I know she would have. She was just confused, is all. So many people relying on her out there, so many obligations. I think she wanted to stay, but was afraid to transition. She’s a thoughtful woman; I don’t think it’s in her nature to just take some leap of faith. She liked the order this place offered her, but to take advantage of it she’d have to destroy the order of what she’s known her whole adult life.”

“So what do you do now?” asked Adam.

Clay stood up and stretched. “Move on,” he said. “And try to forget. I will. In time.”

But as he walked away, Adam wasn’t so sure. He’d never seen Clay look so glum.

***

Karen scrolled through the computer screen, checking the final report on Heartfield for typos. She’d written a complete accounting of her impressions of the compound and its residents, leaving out what she’d observed – and experienced – of its corporal punishment.

“The community is cooperative and holistic,” the summary read. “Members work together and make decisions based on a general consensus, although unanimous decisions are preferred and strived for. The undeclared leader and founder, Clay Sanders, is often called in to troubleshoot or mediate issues, but largely the members work conflicts out among themselves.

“The children, who are home-educated, are polite and inquisitive. Many of them have already mastered primitive skills like dying and weaving through apprenticeships within the community.

“The health of the community is good. They subsist on an organic diet and Heartfield has a dentist, a physician’s assistant and a midwife  - all members –who treat the residents if needed. Members, however, are not adverse to outside treatment if warranted. Some have gone to the hospital or outside specialists for complicated pregnancies, diabetes or broken bones.

“Despite the high-profile incident involving arrests made by this department – which has since apologized to the community – no criminal enterprise or wrongdoing was found during this investigation. Heartfield residents have agreed not to sue the department, and the inquiry into their activities and community has been officially closed.”

Karen printed out the document, signed it and delivered it to Clemmons’ desk. Then she returned to her own and began to leaf through the files of new assignments she’d been given.

A band of adolescents was suspected in a spate of vandalism that had targeted the new museum recently built on a lot formerly occupied by a skate park. An elderly couple claimed a couple posing as insurance company representatives had scammed them. Karen sighed as she continued to leaf through the folder – identity theft, harassment, forgeries and other petty crimes. Not all cases would be exciting, and she sat back, thinking about what lay in store for her over the next weeks, months, years. Investigations, paperwork, dinner and drinks with friends, endless and senseless dates with men who would try and fail to connect with her, lonely nights at home, longer and longer work hours to fill the void. And finally, after years of work, retirement, with her final years spent in solitude.

“I can’t do this.”

“What?” Clemmons looked up from his desk.“Can’t do what?”

“This,” she gestured to her desk.

“Your work?”

Karen laughed for the first time in days. “This work, this job ... this life. I can’t do it anymore.” Everyone was looking now as she undid her holster and laid it and the revolver it contained on her desk. Next came her badge.

Clemmons stood. “Capt. Jarvis!” he called while keeping his eyes warily on Karen. “You’d better get out here!”

Jarvis appeared at his office door and looked wide-eyed at Karen.

“Karen, what on earth are you doing?”

She looked up, and her eyes filled with sad resolve. “I’m quitting,” she sighed.

“No!” he said, and his voice was filled with disappointment.

“I am,” she repeated. “And please don’t make me feel any worse about it than I do. I just don’t think I’m on the right path.”

Jarvis walked over. “It’s that compound thing, isn’t it? And that stuff with Sheriff Smith. Look, we all recognize the strain you’re under. I’m sure it was all very confusing.”

Karen shook her head as she picked up an empty computer paper box and began filling it with the personal belongings she’d just placed on her desk. “No, Jarvis. I’m not confused. In fact, this is probably the first clear moment I’ve had since I came back to work.”

She looked up to see everyone watching her in stunned silence. “I’m sorry if this is a disappointment to you,” she said. “I really am. But it’s time I stopped living up to everyone else’s expectations and live up to my own. Sheriff Smith is out. You guys are all going to be fine without me.” She smiled. “Just fine.”

Picking up her box, she turned toward the door.

“Patterson!” said Clemmons. “Where the hell you gonna go?”

She stopped and looked briefly back at them.

“Home,” she said, and walked out.

***

Clay was out by the road, putting a new lock on the front gate when he heard the crunch of tires on gravel followed by the slam of a door. When he looked up, she was standing there, a smile on her face.

“My car’s broken down,” she said.

He smiled back and walked over. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said. “And it sucks because I did the craziest thing today. I quit my job, paid off my credit cards and tore them up, broke the lease on my apartment, gave all my furniture to the thrift store and packed what few things I thought I had to have in the trunk of my car. And now here I am, stuck with nowhere to go.”

He looked past her to the car. The back seat was packed with boxes.

“I heard there’s a commune in this area,” she said. “A place called Heartfield. I heard there’s this guy who kind of runs the place. He’s handsome and wonderful, the kind of guy a girl could fall for, could follow, could settle down with.”

Clay walked over and pushed a strand of hair away from Karen’s face. She was more beautiful than he remembered.

“Well, you heard right,” he said. “And coincidentally, he’s looking for the perfect woman. She’s about your height, spunky. I hear she used to work as a police officer, but I always thought she’d make a much better farmer. And an even better wife.”

The force of their kiss practically brought them both to the ground, and when Clay walked back into Heartfield it was with Karen Patterson on his arm. The community exploded in a round of nearly unanimous applause that evening when he asked them to accept her back, and announced that she was – beyond a shadow of a doubt – the woman he believed was meant for him.

And Karen could barely smile through the tears of joy. She was a Heartfielder. And she had, indeed, come home.