That Dreaded Phone Call

by Farmer847

He's the man everybody looks up to for answers and guidance. He's the first one to charge at the trouble ahead, and the last one to give up the fight. But what happens when our favorite Lieutenant suffers a crisis of faith? Faith in humanity. Faith in Police work. Even faith in his role of keeping the Streets of San Francisco safe.

38. Chapter 38

They made for an odd sight to say the least.

Two San Francisco Homicide Detectives in their suits walking down the worn-out dirt path leading up to the weathered barn and the deteriorating implements parked in front of it. Their guess had been as good as any when they found a small driveway teeing off the side road along the highway, a wooden Japanese archway giving them hope that they'd finally found the property in question.

Ignoring the strong breeze threatening to blow his beige sportscoat wide open and sending his hair in every direction imaginable, Steve sped up his pace, hoping to catch up with Mike who was several steps ahead, eager to look for the owner.

A pen with a handful of black and white goats along with some sheep next to the barn was a good start, so were the countless free-ranging chickens that clucked away as they passed by.

The barn itself had two large doors on both of the long sides, allowing for them to gaze past the impressive building and toward the luscious pastures behind it, where an assortment of ponies and cows were happily munching away.

"Looks like a regular zoo around here…", Mike breathed and slowed down to inspect one of the tractor implements.

By the looks of it, Steve figured it to be some sort of hay harvester, but his attention quickly drifted over to a small sized buddha statue right inside the barn, greeting visitors.

"A zoo or a…monastery.", he mumbled and brushed past the Lieutenant to get a closer look.

Much of the inside of the barn was filled with hay, grain and agricultural equipment he couldn't begin to imagine the uses for. A couple unoccupied wooden stalls were in the far south corner, the other side housed a couple smaller tractors and wheelbarrows.

A few feet away, a brown chicken with eight fluffy yellow chicks in tow crossed the backdoor of the barn, eagerly clucking away as if to greet her visitor.

Unable to take his eyes off the adorable scene, Steve stepped toward her as she passed the concrete slab outside and headed for a nearby bush to seek cover. The chicks chirped in protest, barely able to keep up with their much-larger mother as she strutted away.

Steve peeked his head around the doorframe to watch them for a precious few seconds, almost forgetting why they came here in the first place, when a strong arm appeared around his throat, pulling him into the darkness of the tractor lot.