Mystery On Twin Lakes

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Keying the mic, “Trish, over.”

Laughing into her microphone, “I see you're getting used to using the new system. I've got a hot one for you to check on, the other guys are busy, and this one needs your personal attention.” Laughing again, “We have a chicken thief out there and a description. He's a skinny, toe head about four feet tall and can run like a rabbit, maybe seven or eight years old.” She then passed on the address.

“Thanks, I needed a diversion.” Guffawing, “I may have to arrest him, so make sure the cell is ready. I think I know who it is. His dad raises a few chickens. Over and out, did I get that right?”

“Perfect,” Trish advised. I can't wait to hear the story.”

Keplar crossed over highway 100 and hit the dusty 53rd Avenue. The farm that was hit stood to the right of a line of trees running along the right side of of the avenue. Two streets down, he turned left onto a new avenue that had two ruts with grass growing down the middle. He found the address he was looking for and pulled into the driveway. It was a neat little, nearly new white cape with circular driveway. The mother was waiting anxiously near the side door.

Getting out of the car, he smiled broadly at the mother. Laughing now, “I hear we have a chicken thief on our hands.” Holding out his hand, “This is not a big deal.”

Looking relieved, she took his hand, “Thank you officer. Sometimes I don't know what I'm going to do with that boy.” Looking down, “He's always been a good boy.”

Introducing himself, “Chief Keplar, glad to meet you.” Glancing around, “Is he home yet?”

“I haven't seen him yet,” she answered with a nervous laugh. Feeling a little less anxious, she leaned against the car next to Keplar.

“What is your son's name?”

“Ricky.”

“Has he ever done anything like this before?”

“Absolutely not, he was always taught that it is wrong to steal.”

At that moment, Ricky came around the back of the garage with a chicken tucked neatly under his arm. A small chicken coup stood beside the garage. He was headed toward it when he saw the police car with his mother and Keplar standing there with their arms folded. He froze in place with head bowed looking at the chicken.

Sternly, “Ricky, come here right now,” his mother ordered.

Ricky shuffled over and looked up at Keplar staring at his badge.

“What do you have there Ricky?” the Chief asked.

“One of my dad's chickens.”

“Ricky, stop lying,” She nearly shouted.

Hanging his head, “I'm sorry.”

“What do you need to do?” His mother asked, bending down and getting in his face.

“Bring the chicken back?” He whispered.

“Yes, and you need to do it right now and then apologize to the farmer.” Looking over at Keplar, “Is that okay?” She asked.

Keplar nodded and then bent down next to Ricky, putting his hand on his shoulder, who now had the chicken tucked under his other arm, “Have you learned your lesson?”

Ricky with tears rolling down his cheeks, nodded and then turned around and walked slowly toward the farm.

They both stood there watching for a few moments. “Thank you officer, I promise you this will never happen again.”

“I'm sure that's true.” He then tipped his hat, slid back into his car and drove off feeling good about the way this worked out. When he pulled back onto 53rd he saw Ricky crossing the road and disappearing behind the row of trees on his way to the farm. Cute kid, I hope I'm lucky enough to have one like him someday, he thought. Someone to take fishing. This is what the job should be all about, a quiet, safe little place to raise your family.