STREAKING DOWN I-75 at sixty miles per hour, with the wind blowing in his face, was therapeutic. The mild fall air flowing over his freshly cropped dome invigorated him. Reg forgot about Carol, the Animal, scallywags, gin, and even Reuben in the passenger seat.
He imagined being on top of a mountain. As the elevated wind rushed past him, he thrust his head skyward and stretched his arms wide. The sensation of freedom was incredible.
He conjured up a log cabin abutting his mountain. His arduous descent commenced with log fire, bear rug, and grilled sirloin aspirations. Then came the avalanche.
"Yo,” Reuben said, initializing the rock slide, "Earth to Reggie.”
"Huh?"
"Where were you just now?"
"Fantasy land. What's up?"
"Feel like telling me where we are going now?"
Reg hit the automated window control, so they wouldn’t have to talk over his rushing wind.
"No problem. That is, if you’re finished checking the songs. Frankenmuth."
"What the heck is in Frankenmuth?"
"Answers."
"I'll bite. How are we going to find a solution to the Animal case in another city, much less Frankenmuth?"
"Well it was … hmm … about nine years ago, when I was still in training."
"At the academy? What has that got to do with—"
“Breathe, Rube, and let me fill you in."
Reg conveyed for his song analyzing partner, events which took place around the time of his academy training.
"You're shitting me.”
"No shit here."
"A cult nine years ago in Frankenmuth that practiced moon worship, ritual sacrifice, and sexual deviancy?"
Reg nodded.
"I've never heard of it, big deal, I'm not researching lunacy up the Interstate. But how could it have not turned up with everything that has been going on?" Reuben said.
"Want to take a stab at it before I tell you?"
Reuben glanced out the windshield thoughtfully, then back at Reg. "Money?"
"Some of the people involved in the cult were connected to the Mayor, and the Mayor was connected to KIWI Incorporated. So, by association, KIWI Incorporated was—”
"—connected to the cult,” Reuben finished his sentence. "Wow, KIWI Incorporated, one of the biggest conglomerates on the East Coast.”
"For sure. And Mayor Swartz was up for re-election with a butt-load of city contracts set to expire in the next term. Contracts ranging from computers, software, hammers, toilet seats, urinals, and the vending machines in every school and city owned building.”
“Mucho dinero,” Reuben whistled.
“And if you're KIWI Incorporated, and you own subsidiaries that supply all of those products, it would be nice to have an inside man. A scandal right before the election wouldn’t be good for shareholders. Some cheese exchanging hands and Presto! What moon worshiping cult your honor? We’re not familiar with that case."
"No shit?”
"No shit."
Reuben’s brow furrowed. “Something still doesn't track. The case never saw the inside of a courtroom, but there had to be arresting officers, back up officers, people at the department who knew the bust was going down."
"Not necessarily. The Desk Sergeant thought the tip he received that same night was a hoax. He only sent over a car to cover his ass. Between the arriving unit, the unit that responded to their call, and the desk officer, there were only five or six people involved."
Reuben threw up his hands. “Now you’re shitting me. More units had to respond. I can imagine the call over the box."
"Pranking teens," Reg said.
"Say what?"
"The Mayor’s aide involved managed to bend the ear of a uniform. One municipal phone call later and mischievous teens were all the rage."
"No shit?"
"I keep telling you, Rube, there’s no shit over here. Do you need me to pull over to a rest stop and get you some?"
"Funny, but one more thing, Mr. Shit-less."
"Lay it on me."
"If everybody was paid off to keep quiet, and obviously did, how did you find out about it?"
Reg explained the client referred to Dr. Alan Hanson, Carol's father. A former law enforcement official out of Frankenmuth who was experiencing night terrors and guilt, from the things he had seen.
What the man told Alan stained his soul. He had to tell someone. It was the only time Reg knew of Alan violating a patient’s confidence. Reg could hardly believe his ears, but wasn't surprised. In his almost two years on the force by then, he had seen the kinds of atrocities people could inflict on one another.
It hardened him.
There were a lot of gin soaked nights in the beginning. If it wasn't for Carol, he’d probably be like a good deal of the hollowed eyes he saw mulling about the station every day; a functional alcoholic. He was aware that he wasn’t too far away at the moment.
"Gee-zus," Reuben said, after hearing the tale. He had no more questions.
"No shit," Reg said, reaching for the window button and his wind. He left his partner to sort out what he’d just heard. "No shit."