015 - Bad News and Running Home

Steven finished his presentation. This trip was to meet some distributors about selling some of the product his company made. During his pitch his phone had sounded. He checked it briefly, then turned the ringer off and continued. When he finished he checked his voicemail, finding several messages. The first one was his General Manager. She told him to call immediately, and not to check any other mail until he does. She had cleared his voicemail before sending this one.

Steven called his office.

“Hello, Leticia, this is…”

“Steven. Thank god you called. We have been trying to get a hold of you all afternoon.”

Steven had hired Leticia because she had a reputation for being unflappable. He had hired her away from her prior job. Now, listening to her, she was flapped.

“Steven, the police called, you house was broken into, and Rox and your kids are missing. The police are looking for you, to see if you are all right.”

Leticia stopped for a breath and only heard silence. So she continued.

“Mrs. Winchel, your neighbor, has also called looking for you. She said the police answered a 911 call for your house, and came to ask her about it. She told them that she had seen two dark clothed men prowling around your house, just before the kids came home from school. Then Rox drove home in the truck. Then the police came by here to find you, and I told them you were on a business trip. We tried to call and only got your voicemail. So I figured you were still presenting. Now they need you to call them.”

Steven had felt the world collapse on his shoulders, and his knees give out. He was alone in the room for the moment.

Leticia continued. “I gave the officers your cell number, and told them that you were in Salt Lake on business. They insisted on seeing your office, and were generally behaving like they owned the place. Once they left, I called again, cleared your voice mail, and left the last one.”

Steven’s Marine training began to surface. Leticia had given him what facts she could. Now he needed to act. The phone hung silent as his mind got back into gear.

Steven took a deep breath. “O.k. Get me on the next best flight home. Cancel the rest of this trip.”

“I already have the website open. Will two hours be enough time at that end to get to the airport?”

“Yes. The kit needs packing, but that is not important now. Get that flight, send it to me by email, and meet me at the airport when it lands. Talk to you then.” Steven hung up the phone. He rechecked his voice mail, and logged his laptop computer on to his email.

The second voicemail was from an officer from the Douglas County Sheriff’s office, asking for Steven to call at his earliest convenience, and before talking to anyone else.

Steven dialed the number from the voice mail. He got the sheriff’s dispatcher.

“This is Steven Caplan. I need to talk to Deputy Poulson.”

“One moment.”

A series of clicks and one ring, and a voice came on. “Deputy Poulson.”

“This is Steven Caplan. What’s going on?”

“Mister Caplan, your house was the target of a breaking and entering today.”

Steven paused to let Deputy Poulson continue. “And?”

“And we need to talk to you in person at your earliest convenience. Your secretary…”

“General Manager. Leticia is not my secretary.”

“Pardon me, your General Manager told us you were out of town…”

Steven’s patience was at an end. “And my absence there gives you permission to harass my employees, and not come to the point and tell me that my family is unaccounted for?”

After a moments silence, Deputy Poulson continued. “Whom else have you talked to, Mr. Caplan?”

“Only Leticia. She’s getting me on the next flight. So why did you send people to harass her?”

“We didn’t. They were just sent to find you.”

“Well I’m not there,” Steven snapped.

“You don’t need to get angry at me.” Deputy Poulson responded, keeping calm.

“If you are going to abuse my people I’m going to.”

“We are not abusing your people….”

“Good,” Steven interrupted. “Keep your goons away from my people. The last thing they need is a flock of vultures hanging over them. Now are you going to meet me at the airport, or at my house?”

“I will meet you at the airport. What’s your flight number?”

“I don’t know yet. I will call you as soon as I do know.”

Steven hung up before the guy could say more. He had never trusted or liked the police much. That was why he had his CCW. Even though many were ex-military, as he was, Steven had always felt that most policemen were school bullies that had grown up and found respectable ways to continue bullying people.

Steven logged onto and checked his email. In five minutes he had his flight plans printing on a borrowed printer. He got a call back from Deputy Poulson at ten minuets, told him the flight number and hung up on him again. At fifteen minutes Steven was on his way to the airport. He left his demo stuff behind, to be shipped back to him later. Fortunately the client understood, his stuff would be taken care of by them. Leticia had emailed that she had already called the motel and they were taking care of his bag and clothes there.

At the Salt Lake International Airport Steven presented his flight plans, his I.D. his CCW’s, his computer, its case, and his gun. He left his checked luggage at the hotel, so he had to get his gun checked through in a borrowed lock-box. That done, he got his ticket and went as quick as he could through the security cordon and to his gate.

Once there Steven found a quiet place in the terminal and called Deputy Poulson and told him his flight number and arrival time. He then began peppering the deputy for information.

Deputy Poulson began. “Your neighbor, Mrs. Doris Winchel, had called 911 to report two men prowling around the house, and that the dogs had gone quiet. A deputy was sent by to see. Mrs. Winchel met the deputy in person, and told her everything she saw, from the men, the kids coming home, and Roxanne pulling in, and going inside. The deputy tried the front door, only to find it locked. The blinds were all closed, so Mrs. Winchel took the deputy around back. Here they found your dogs were dead, and the double doors smashed and forced open. The living room had the couches and chairs pushed aside. Mrs. Winchel helped the deputy call your office, but found you were out, so the deputy radioed to have two officers go by to find you.”

Steven did not have a notepad right there, but had learned to commit things to his memory very early on in his time in the Marines. He tried to press Deputy Poulson for more information, but the deputy was hesitant to discuss anything, as opposed to report what was known. In frustration, Steven commented that this paranoia was why he distrusted cops, and hung up again in anger, then paced a bit to cool down.

After an interminable time spent typing his notes on his laptop and emailing them to his home account and to Leticia, he heard the call to board. Now, so long as the airline was its usual efficient self, he would be feet down in the Reno airport within the hour, and after claiming his gun, he could look for his ride home.

*          *          *

Caspian sat in the parking lot of a church building in sight of the Caplan house. The ground here was flat enough, and the buildings sparse enough that he could watch everything from where he sat most of a mile away. He had checked the stone once he had turned the car off, and was annoyed that all three of the local swirls were gone. This meant that they were not just out of the area, but already off planet. Caspian hoped they were kept together, but doubted they would be kept that way.

On the other hand, now Caspian only had to talk to and convince Steven to come, or to just up and kidnap him. But it also meant that his task, instead of taking two adults to Tywacomb, and then to Shalaia, had changed to taking one adult, and then probably tracking down the second and then retrieving the kids, from wherever they would be. It was doubtful that the people from Krogg would want to carry Roxanne very far, and keeping her close to her children was too much danger.

As Caspian thought it out, he liked it less, but also slowly realized it gave him an excuse to annoy the elves, as much as they had already annoyed him. So maybe it would balance out. Presuming nothing else got fowled up. Best not to make any hard plans; just go with the events.

For now he had to wait for Steven to come home. Judge Kevan’s notes said that Steven owned a manufacturing facility, making all kinds of carry-bags. Caspian had not spent much time following him, as he had figured that where Roxanne was, Steven would be as well. But since they had apparently taken Roxanne. . .

The local constables had one vehicle parked at the Caplan’s house. Several had come and gone. It was getting on to evening, and Caspian began to regret not putting a trace on Steven when he had had a chance.

016 - Taking Stock, Sorting Out The Available Evidence

Steven was met at the security cordon by Leticia. At five foot-nothing with dark skin and beaded cornrows from the ghetto, she stood straighter and more distinct than the Sheriff Deputy who stood a head taller than she did. Deputy Poulson was younger than Steven, shorter, and had the earnest look of someone trying to do a thankless job. They all went to the oversized luggage claim, and waited for his gun to clear security, where Steven put it into his computer bag. Steven gave his car keys to Leticia, and went with Deputy Poulson in his police car.

“While we go, I want to ask you some questions. Please speak clearly so that this recorder can hear you.” Deputy Poulson put a digital recorder on the dashboard.

As they went south, Steven opened his bag and reloaded his gun. He then holstered it in his belt, much to the deputy’s nervousness.

“What kind of gun is that?”

“Sig 229 .40 cal.”

“Like it?”

“I prefer a 1911, but it does the job. What can you tell me about what happened?”

“I’m the one asking the questions. First: Your name, address, and occupation.” He tapped on the digital recorder on the dash.

“Steven Caplan. 705 McQueen Road, Gardnerville, NV. Business owner, Caplan Bags and Packs.”

“Where’s the business located?” Deputy Poulson drove carefully south across the Washoe Valley.

“You already know that. It’s at 800 Jack’s Valley Road.”

Both men were obviously antagonistic to each other, mostly keying off of Steven’s mood. But neither was doing anything about it.

“When were you last home?”

“This morning. I flew out of town on business.” Steven was wishing he was driving, or Rox was.

“What kind of business, where?”

“That’s not your concern. But, for your paranoia, you need to know…” Steven took a breath to calm down. “I went to make a presentation to some vendors at the University of Utah Book Store in Salt Lake City. Friday I was to go to some sellers in Denver. Saturday I was going on to Colorado Springs, and Monday to Boise. I was going to make sales pitch’s about making products for them, and having them distribute my products. That done, I planned to come home and take the family on vacation.”

“Will you provide a hard copy of your schedule so that we can check it?”

“It can be arranged.” Steven answered.

“So, what happened today?” Deputy Poulson asked.

“You mean why I came home?” Steven responded.

“Yes.”

Steven started into what happened. “I was giving a presentation, when my phone rang. I shut its ringer off, and completed the presentation. I checked the massages. The first was my general manager. I called her, and she told me about my house being broken into, and my family missing. After arranging with her to get back here, I checked my next message, presumably yours. I then called and talked to you, and told you my plans to that point. That done, I then down loaded my flight plans, and went to the Salt Lake City airport. After checking in, I called you again. Then flew here, met my General Manager and you, and here we are. So what happened at my house? I have some bare bones, but I don’t think I have the full story.”

Deputy Poulson shrugged slightly. “It’s only fair. So far, all we have been able to learn is that two men broke into your house shortly after your kids got home from school. Your wife must have arrived home while they were there and somehow went with them.”

“How did they leave?” Steven took his turn to ask questions.

“We don’t know yet. Nobody saw any strange vehicles, and it appears yours are all accounted for.” Deputy Poulson answered.

“And the dogs? What happened to them?” Steven wanted to know about everything, and the order of events.

“It looks like they knifed both of them.”

“Any blood around, from anybody, besides the dogs?” Steven was not satisfied.

“No. We're waiting for you to lead us through the house to say what might be out of place. You have an awful lot of weapons in there.”

Steven shrugged “And other collected things. I served in The Corps, have CCW’s for several states, and my wife is a trained hand fighter. But you should already know that.”

“Is there anyone you know who would want to kidnap your kids?” Deputy Poulson finally got to the question he wanted to ask.

“No.” Steven answered this flatly.

“Offend anybody lately,” the Deputy probed.

“Just you,” Steven countered.

They drove quietly the rest of the way. Steven thought out just how he wanted to do things, mainly to be calm, and orderly while doing them, and to look for things out of place.

*          *          *

Caspian watched as a new constable’s vehicle arrived. Even from this distance he recognized Steven’s tall figure getting out of the car. Caspian figured it was time to alert Alistare so he could set any thing he might be able to do rolling.

*          *          *

Steven found the house a mess. Another deputy who had been sitting in her car waiting joined them at the door, and followed Steven and Deputy Poulson around with a video camera. Steven looked around the entry way and front hall. Rox’s gym bag was on the floor in the front hall, already tagged. The pocket door to the kitchen was closed, with a bit of police tape holding it that way. The coat tree and umbrella stand looked wrong.

“Where’s her sticks,” Steven ked.

“Sticks?”

“A pair of PR-24’s. You know, standard issue night sticks. Roxanne keeps them on the umbrella stand. They are not there.” Steven pointed at the umbrella stand.

“I know what they are. There weren’t any found while I was first here. Find any since I left?” Deputy Poulson turned to the officer with the camera.

“We have not found any,” she replied from behind the camera. “But we have not moved anything since you left, either. Shall we proceed?”

They stepped over Roxanne’s bag and entered the living room. The furniture was all pushed to the outer walls, much overturned. One of the French Doors to the backyard was broken from the outside, the glass still on the floor. Some rocks and lines of sand formed an octagon in the middle of the room.

Steven looked it over. “What a mess. Why is this all pushed back? What is that junk on the floor?”

The female deputy spoke up. “The lab is analyzing it; we guess its normal sand. Is anything obviously missing?”

Steven scanned the walls and piles of stuff. The crossed M-16s were still over the fireplace. Many other things on the walls still where they belonged, the shelves and pictures relatively undisturbed. “No. Knocked down, tossed about, a few things broken. But nothing apparently missing.”

Steven turned right and went past the top of the stairs and down the hall; the bathroom straight ahead looked fine. Turning the corner Police Tape was stretched across each door. First, Diana’s room on the left, there’s her book bag. The bed had been tossed aside, making a mess of her desk. The closet was closed.

Deputy Poulson spoke. “Looks like she was underneath it, and they tossed it aside to get her.”

They went down the hall further to the next left, into Alex’s room. His book bag was under his bed, also tossed aside, and his closet was open.

Steven sighed loudly, shaking his head. They went to the last door across from Alex’s.

“That door is locked, we can’t get in.” It showed it had been dusted, as had most surfaces.

Steven pulled out his keys, unlocked and opened the door. “Of course it is. Rox and I don’t like the kids coming in uninvited.” The room was undisturbed. Steven unholstered his gun, and put it onto the bed, followed by the magazines. “Nothing here.”

Steven herded the deputies back out, closing the door, but not locking it. “Let’s go check the rest. Are your lab people done?”

“Pretty much, they have already left; unless you discover something as you clean up.”

“Fine. Let’s check downstairs first.” Steven herded the two deputies back out.

Everything downstairs appeared untouched. Steven noticed that things had been lightly dusted.

Deputy Poulson noticed Steven noticing. “Evidently nobody got down here.”

Steven nodded, tested all the locked doors, and checked the library and storage room. Both rooms were undisturbed.

As they went back upstairs, Steven started rambling. “I’m only slightly surprised that there were no gunshots. Rox never liked to shoot. She’s good, but preferred her martial arts, or her bow. All the guns are still where they should be. You’ve dusted for prints, obviously.”

“Yes. Near as we can tell from their trails, they were not interested in anything but the kids. Do you have some photographs of them that we could have? Of your wife as well?”

“Yeah. I can also get you some copies of their physical descriptions. They were done last fall, but they should be accurate enough.”

Steven went back down stairs and into the library. After warming up the computer, he printed out the last files for each child and Roxanne. He printed the latest pictures with them. Once printed, Steven took the deputies back upstairs.

Leticia showed up at that point, with Mrs. Winchel in tow. Leticia handed Steven his car keys, and told him that if he needed anything to call her. She then left. Mrs. Winchel occupied the kitchen, having prepared a casserole and some vegetables for dinner. She made some juice to go with it.

Steven went out back, the deputies in tow. They found the dogs where they lay, slaughtered and outlined. Steven grimaced a bit. This bit of the yard looked like the dogs put up a bit of a fight.

“These fully documented?” Steven motioned to the dogs.

“Yes, but the forensics team wants to ultrasound the wounds to more accurately determine the kind of knife used. They should have been here already. Something must have held them up.” The female Deputy replied as she turned off the camera.

Mrs. Winchel called them in for dinner right then.

She served herself and sat, leaving the food buffet style for the rest who help themselves as they continue working.

The deputies looked at the utensils. “Well, they can’t have been after property. These are real silver.”

Steven dropped his fork and finally broke down.

“Sorry,” the female deputy muttered.

Steven didn’t finish his meal. He got up and righted his easy chair. Then he set the end table next to it right, and set the phone on it. He hung it up and then picked it up and got a dial tone. He then called his brother. Then his sister. Neither one answered, so he left messages. Next he called Roxanne’s parents and left a message on their machine.

As Steven worked the phone, the female deputy left. Mrs. Winchel stayed and cleaned up the dinner, then washed the dishes. Once done with them, she excused herself and left.

Deputy Poulson helped Steven put some plastic sheeting over the broken door, and clean up the glass. They had the pile together when there was a knock at the door. Both men went to answer it, Steven still in some shock, Deputy Poulson on edge.