Arriving at the Big Horn, he noticed that things were just as he remembered. Today, though, there seemed to be much more activity. He drove back to the main barn where he knew Pinky’s office to be.
He walked into the barn and on through to where Pinky’s office was located. There was no answer when he knocked. The huge double barn doors on that end of the building were wide open and Randy stood looking out from them at the activity.
A ranch-hand walked by and Randy stopped him to ask where he might find Pinky. The hand pointed toward a large corral and continued on. Randy made his way to the corral.
It was made of welded panels joined together and it was huge. Inside were maybe a fifty cows, not fully grown, but not brand new either. Randy didn’t immediately see Pinky, but was engaged in what he was watching.
“What are you guys doing?” Randy asked one of the hands standing nearby.
The hand looked up at him and simply said, “Workin’ cattle.” He looked back down at the rope he was coiling up feeling his explanation had been sufficient.
Randy frowned and mulled over the phrase, ‘working cattle’. What on earth did that mean? Walking farther around to where the hub of the activity seemed to be, he saw a chute leading from the corral to another, smaller corral.
As he stood and watched, he saw a man single out a cow, no, a young bull Randy realized, and pushed it into the chute. The chute was an odd contraption about the length of a cow. It had steel bars on the sides and levers that moved the sides in to squeeze the cattle firmly and another lever which closed a door in the front around the animal’s neck.
In what seemed like lightning speed, one ranch-hand injected the bull with a hypodermic needle, another one clipped a tag on his ear, and another hand was... What was he doing, Randy couldn’t quite see.
Randy’s stomach flipped as the ranch-hand stood up after a swift movement with a strange-looking knife and came away with testicles. The chute was opened and another ranch-hand ushered the once-bull out to another, larger corral.
Randy stood slack-jawed watching this process. They were all working in tandem, quickly and efficiently. He noticed not all were bulls, and those only received vaccinations he assumed, and tags, if necessary.
“What cha want?” It was Pinky’s voice that broke Randy’s fascination with what he was witnessing. He turned around to find Pinky standing there, frowning.
“Oh, hi, Pinky,” said Randy. “This is fascinating.”
“Good to know. What cha want?” Pinky was not happy that his work had been interrupted. “This ain’t really a good time to talk.”
“Yes, I can see that. I really have only one question.” He pulled out a picture of the camouflaged colored ATV and showed it to Pinky. “Do you guys have one of these?”
“Did have. Got stolen.”
“Was a report filed?” asked Randy.
“Yep,” Pinky was trying to hurry this along so he could get back to work.
“We called Darren, filed a report. That’s all I know, now I gotta get back to work.” Pinky turned and walked off.
There wasn’t really much else he could ask Pinky. He would visit Darren to see when the ATV was reported stolen and see if there were any other details that might help him with their current case.
He walked back to his car, still visualizing the entire ‘working cattle’ process. Once back in his car, he shuddered, and was thankful he was not a ranch-hand or a bull.
~~~
“Yep, about a year ago, I think,” replied Darren to Randy’s inquiry about the ATV theft. “Let me pull that for you.”
Darren shuffled through a series of files and pulled one out. His chair squeaked loudly as his large frame sat down. He had opened the file and was thumbing through it as he sat.
“Seems like there were several things stolen. The ATV for sure, then some other small equipment.” Darren looked up and handed Randy the file open to the list of stolen items.
Randy read through the list of about twenty items. Most items he had no idea what they were. Another item caught his eye in addition to the ATV. “I see here that a castrating knife was stolen.” Randy looked up to see Darren’s reaction.
“Hmmm, I’d forgotten about that,” said Darren. Randy could tell he was thinking and remembering back to taking the report.
Randy shut the file and thought for a moment. Tell me about a castrating knife. He had just witnessed first-hand how sharp they must be in order to castrate a bull’s testicles in one swift movement.
Darren leaned forward placing his forearms on his desk. “Well, they are generally made from tempered high-carbon steel, incredibly hard and rust-proof. They’re very sharp and hold their edge. I think the ones the Big Horn uses are custom made from a knife making company. I was told the one that was stolen had a blunt tip and a trigger guard to protect them from getting cut when they used it. The guard keeps a person’s hand from sliding down onto the blade. The Big Horn’s knives all have their brand on the handle.”
Randy sat and thought for a minute. “Could that type of blade have been used to cut a throat like in our murder victims’ cases?”
Thinking for a minute, Darren then replied while nodding his head, “Yep, I don’t see why not. The medical examiners would be the best judge of that.”
“I need a knife like the one stolen from the Big Horn. Are all their knives the same?”
“I don’t know. They probably have some old knives they used way back, but I am sure they have more than one like the one that was stolen,” Darren said.
“I need one of those knives to take to the medical examiner. I was just out there, though, and they were working cattle. I hate to rile Pinky any more than I already have today. Would you go out there as soon as they are done and get me one?”
Randy really didn’t want to have to go back out there right then. He knew it would be best to wait until they were done with the cattle.
“Sure thing. I’ll call Pinky this evening when they’ve cleaned up and see if I can head out to pick one up. I’ll call you as soon as I do.”
Randy stood to go and heartily shook Darren’s hand. He felt energized. Going to the big Horn to see about an ATV was turning into a much bigger possible lead. Just as Randy reached the door to Darren’s office he thought of something and turned back to look at Darren. “Did you ever have a suspect?”
“As a matter of fact, we did. There was a ranch-hand that went missing about the same time. We hunted all over and never could find him or the stuff. We never could figure out where he might have gone off to,” replied Darren.
“Can I have the file you have on him?” asked Darren.
“Sure.” Darren pulled out another file and motioned for Randy to head to the copier with him.
Once the file was copied and Randy was headed back out the door. Pieces were falling into place in his mind and he couldn’t wait to tell Carrie.
~~~
When Randy arrived at the hospital, Carrie was sleeping. He stood there for a while, not wanting to wake her. He was eager to share with her what he had found, but knew she needed her rest. He finally decided to sit down for a bit and wait.
In about fifteen minutes, a nurse walked in. “She’s pretty out of it,” she whispered. “She was determined to walk the hallway today until she recovered. I think she quickly realized it would take more than her sheer will to make that happen. It was good, though, to see her walking. It does speed up recovery if one doesn’t overdo it.” The nurse was checking the IV drip and the monitor as she spoke.
Carrie stirred and opened her eyes some. She felt like she had been hit by a truck. Maybe she had overdone it. Seeing Randy though, sitting on the chair behind the nurse brightened her spirits.
“Randy,” Carrie said. She raised the head off her bed and attempted to scoot herself up, wincing in the process.
“You overdid it, didn’t you?” he asked.
“I just want to be well and out of here. You know I can’t sit around, I have to be doing some
thing.” The disgruntled look on Carrie’s face made Randy smile.
He grabbed his chair and pulled it up close to the side of Carrie’s bed. “Hey,” he said in a conspiratorial voice, “I have something.” He pulled out the file he had gotten from Darren and his notepad.
“You won’t believe this but I’ve been back at the Big Horn Ranch today.” He stopped to let that sink in.
Carrie’s face screwed up. “Huh, why?”
“They were on that list of ATV owners. There were five total I felt should be followed up on. I took the Big Horn Ranch and another that I will go to tomorrow. Mike and Rick took the others.
“Go on,” Carrie was eager to hear more.
“Seems like their ATV had been stolen before the first of the five bodies were found. And before you ask, yes they filed a report with Darren. I went by his office and he copied the file for me.
“That’s not all. There was a list of items stolen at that time, one of which is a castration knife,” he paused and looked up to see Carrie’s reaction. He chuckled at her round eyes.
“Just so happens my timing was just right to witness one in action today,” said Randy. “When I got to the ranch, they were working cattle.” He felt slightly proud that he had gained the ability to sling that term around, hopefully impressing Carrie.
“Working cattle...” Randy began.
“I know what that is,” interrupted Carrie.
“You do?” Randy was surprised.
“Of course. I’m surprised you don’t. How long have you lived in Oklahoma? For-ev-er, and you don’t know what working cattle is?”
“Well, anyway,” Randy continued deflated, “Darren agreed that it was a possibility that the knife would be sharp enough to slit a man’s throat the way our victims’ throats were cut. He didn’t want to say for sure and we both agreed the medical examiner would be the one to confirm or deny.
“He’s going back to the Big Horn this evening to get another one just like it so we will have one to compare it to. But that isn’t all,” he was gaining excitement again.
“They had a suspect in the theft,” Randy paused to get Carrie’s response.
“Well, go on,” Carrie was excited to hear.
“A ranch-hand at the Big Horn went missing about the same time as the thefts occurred. They never found him or the stolen items.” Randy let that sit there and stew for a minute.
Carrie's mind was churning. She was assimilating all the new pieces into what they already knew. Randy let the process play out because it usually produced productive results.
“You know, we have never gotten an id on the fifth victim. We were checking missing person reports, but if he left the Big Horn and it was assumed that he left because of the theft, no one would have filed a missing person report,” Carrie’s eyes glowed.
Randy hadn’t put that together quite yet, but it made perfect sense.
“Do you have info on him?” Carrie was reaching toward Randy to hand her what she already knew without asking that he had. He handed it over and she eagerly read.
“Randy you have to get this into the system and see what turns up. The age, everything fits with the other victims.”
“I know, but I want to run right back out to get the knife from Darren as soon as he has it and so I thought spending time here at the hospital with you was the perfect solution since it’s about half-way between Kachina and our office.”
Carrie nodded, deep in thought. Ideas were rolling around in her head and for the next hour, she and Randy tossed around theories and possibilities to explore. When Randy’s phone buzzed in his pocket, it startled him. It was Darren.
Hanging up the phone he stood and gathered the paperwork they had been reviewing. “I’ve got to go, but I will keep you in the loop.”
Carrie wanted more than ever to get out of that bed and go with him.
Chapter Seventeen
Andrea felt a slight chill when Senna walked in to work the next morning. “Hey, there, how are you feeling?” Andrea was sincere in her inquiry. She cared deeply about Senna and hoped that she was better.
Senna’s smile was tight when she said, “I’m fine. It was all just a really big fuss for nothing.” She quickly put her things away, her purse in the drawer and her lunch in the fridge, and went straight to the overnight deposit box and began sorting.
Confused as to what to say or do, Andrea left her alone and went back to her work. She couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that she had inside. Something wasn’t right, and she didn’t know what or how to fix it. Patience, she thought, patience is the key.
It was the day before the book fair at the school and having worked efficiently up to that point, there was very little left to do. Andrea got the boxes of books together by the back door where they would load them when it was time to head to the school.
Lunchtime came and even though Senna had always brought her lunch before, they had fallen into the habit of getting something and eating together in the office. The fact that Senna had brought her lunch today disappointed Andrea. She thought she was making a mountain out of a molehill, maybe Senna’s budget was getting tight.
At precisely eleven twenty-nine, one minute before her scheduled lunchtime, Senna went to the fridge, got her lunch and headed for the door. “I’m going to lunch now,” was all she said as she left. The front door swung shut at exactly eleven thirty.
Andrea had such a sick feeling inside. Since no one was currently in the library and Senna was out, she thought she would call Blake.
Blake quickly answered. Andrea told him how the morning had gone and of her concerns.
“When was the last time you spoke to her?” asked Andrea.
“Last night. I called her about seven to check on her. She seemed fine. Quiet, but fine.” Blake concentrated on replaying the call in his mind. Had she really been fine?
“You know, now that you mention it, she did seem a little off. I just chalked it up to the stress of the ordeal. She sounded tired, so I didn’t keep her on the phone long so she could rest.”
“I’m assuming she’s gone to the park to eat her lunch the way that she always used to do. If you aren’t in the middle of something maybe you could check on her,” said Andrea. She stood behind the counter fiddling with the pencil in her hand.
Blake moved to his office window that overlooked the park. “Yes, she’s there. I’ll go check and let you know how she is.” Blake was already heading out the door when he hung up the phone with Andrea.
As Blake crossed through the park to the bench where Senna sat, he was hopeful that he and Andrea were wrong. But passing out like she had done was not normal, and neither did this seem to be.
He slipped onto the bench next to Senna. “Hi there,” he smiled at her as she turned her head to look at him. She did not smile back.
“How are you?” Blake asked with concern creasing his face.
Senna looked back out into the park. “I’m fine. You know Blake I really think we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”
Blake wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. “Why?” He was crushed. Her statement seemed so cold and hard. He’d never heard her speak so matter-of-fact and to the point.
“I just can’t do it. I don’t want to do it,” she said still looking out across the park.
He sat with his elbows on his knees and looked down at his hands. This was a blow out of left field and he had no idea how to handle it. What had he done? Was it church? Had taking her to church rekindled the trauma, setting her back, erasing all the strides she’d made?
“I don’t understand,” he said quietly.
“I don’t care if you understand,” she said. Her voice was curt and short.
Blake’s head snapped around to look at her. What he saw was a cold and indifferent Senna, not the sweet and charming lady he had fallen in love with. But to love meant you loved all of a person no matter the mood or emotion they were dealing with. He did love her and he had to find a way to help her.
&nbs
p; She turned her head to look at him and said, “Seriously Blake, you need to leave me alone.”
Her cold eyes bore into his and he quietly nodded in agreement. He knew this was not the time to try to convince her otherwise. He stood up and started to remind her that he loved her, but stopped himself. He knew right now it wouldn’t help.
He turned and walked back toward his office, stunned, broken and bewildered.
~~~
“It’s a day earlier than I had planned on releasing you,” the doctor said, “but if you’ll promise me, you’ll take care of yourself and follow my instructions, I’ll let you go home.” He looked at Carrie over the tops of his reading glasses. She felt like she had many times in the past when her SAC had scolded her.
“I promise I will,” Carrie overzealously agreed. Her mind was racing ahead to what she needed, well wanted to do. First she would call Randy to come get her.
The doctor was writing on her chart and then on a prescription pad. “I’m prescribing you some painkillers, but I want you to try not to take them unless you absolutely must. Take ibuprofen if you can get by with that. If you only moderately exert yourself, you shouldn’t need them.
“I better not see you back in here because you have re-injured yourself.” It was a stern warning and Carrie fully understood the repercussions. She nodded her head in sincerity. There was no way she wanted to wind up back in the hospital.
As soon as the doctor left, Carrie was on the phone with Randy. “Come get me.”
“Now?” Randy asked surprised at the immediacy in her tone.
“Yes. The doctor has released me and I’ve got to get out of here. But I need clothes. What I came in with are a mess. I can tell you where to go get some stuff at my house.”
“What if I just stop at the Dollar Store and get you some sweats? I don’t want to go digging around in your undies looking for clothes for you.”
Carrie almost laughed at Randy. “That’s fine. I think the undies I have are fine. Hurry up.”
“Okay, Okay, I’ll be there soon,” Randy said. He was glad that Carrie was being released, but he had a sneaking suspicion that she had not been released to go back to work, only home.
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