Ben woke up with a crick in his neck and a rumble in his stomach. Other urges had to be seen to as well. The boy missed sleeping in his narrow bed at the childrens' home. It hadn't been much but Ben was used to making due. Moving from place to place, he and Victoria had lived in low rent apartments and eaten their fair share of peanut butter and pinto beans. Even so, he'd never gone hungry because there wasn't anything in the house to eat. Victoria had worked as a waitress mostly, when she wasn't involved with bank robberies. She'd bring Ben back hamburgers, milkshakes and french fries occasionally. Whenever possible she cooked real meals with vegetables and meat. If Ben went hungry it was because he'd been stubborn and hadn't eaten what she fixed.
"Hey, is anyone there, I have to go to the bathroom." Ben yelled into the darkness beyond the vehicle.
"Quit yer yammerin' there kid, some of us are trying to sleep." The lunkhead's voice shouted out from somewhere near the Ford. The kidnapper kicked something in the dark and swore loudly as he walked more cautiously on the cement floor.
"If I don't get to the bathroom soon I'm going to have to pee all over the seats of this vehicle." Ben warned, hoping it would be incentive enough for them to let him urinate. He'd felt cooped up too long to care.
"Don't you dare." Lunkhead jerked open the back door and hauled Ben out with one hand. He took the dark bandana and tied it around Ben's eyes. Roughly, he was hauled inside the house and through the kitchen.
"Here, piss in there." A door closed behind Lunkhead but Ben could still hear him rustling around on the other side. "Try anything and I'll pop you right there in the john, got it kid?" Lunkhead shouted through the door.
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you." Ben slipped the bandana off his eyes and looked around. Aqua green tiles lined the walls halfway up the wall the boy stood facing. A single row of black tile met white plaster that had seen cleaner days. A narrow window above the toilet was too small to get more than Ben's arm out of so it wouldn't be a good escape route. A dust and gunk ridden tub sat to the right of the miniscule bathroom. The entire room was only about seven foot long by five feet wide. If stench had a Richter scale this bathroom would have scored a ten point five for it's pungent aroma. Shuddering, Ben took care of his business and tried to flush the disgustingly nasty toilet, to no avail.
"Whew, this is worse smelling than the time I had to hide out in a bear carcass for three days one July." A familiar, male voice sounded behind Ben as he started to refasten his jeans.
"Oh dear." The boy gasped, surprised to see his grandfather standing in the tub wearing full, arctic gear. "What are you doing here, you nearly scared the life out of me." Ben took a deep breath to get his stomach back in place.
"Ah, I never know where I'll show up, Benton and I have had some of our best conversations in the strangest places." Robert Fraser shrugged, his hands behind his back as he stood in the crud covered, porcelain tub.
"Hey, kid, who you talking to in there, you got a cell phone stashed or somethin'?" Lunkhead began to jangle the door knob.
"Just talking to myself, that's all." Ben shouted as he turned the faucet on to wash his hands.
"Can you tell Aunt Maggie or my father where I'm at?" The boy asked, his eyes wide.
"Afraid not, Son, I'm only here as part of your subconscious." The old mountie sighed as he looked at the hideous tiles surrounding them.
"Well what good are you then?" Ben lamented, murky water trickling out of the tap.
"There's not much use for me I suppose, but here I am just the same." Robert Fraser smiled for a moment at the irony of the situation.
"Done or raw, kid, I'm comin' in." Lunkhead warned before throwing open the cheap, wooden door. His ski mask only revealed his dark brows and hazel eyes as he retied the bandana around Ben's eyes. Again, the boy was hustled out into the garage and shoved back in the rear of the Explorer. This time Lunkhead had thought to grab more pizza. It was leftover, but still edible. Pulling off the bandana, Ben missed his mom's peanut butter and apple butter sandwiches as he gnawed on hard, pizza crust. It had been a Saturday tradition they'd had before she'd been caught. Together they'd have peanut butter and apple butter sandwiches on wheat bread with chocolate milk. When they could, they'd go to the movies and sneak snack inside the theater in her big purse.
"So, how are you going to get out of this one, son?" Robert Fraser spoke out of the darkness as he sat in the front seat. The boy eyed him contemptuously for a moment before answering.
"I haven't figured that out yet, do you have any ideas?" He squirmed around in the rear seat to retrieve his knife from the pocket on the back of the front seat.
"None at all, but I bet Benton would have gotten himself free by now, he always was a resourceful boy growing up." The old mountie chuckled to himself as if he were remembering an inside joke.
"What is with his name any way, why 'Benton' ?" Ben asked, as he looked around the vehicle for ideas.
"It was his mother's choice, it's a good, English name, means Ben's town or town on the moor, something like that." The old Mountie began twiddling his thumbs as he sat in the front seat, twisted around to face Ben.
"Ah, glad I got the short version." The boy rolled his eyes.
"You don't call him 'Dad' do you." Robert Fraser observed. Ben just shrugged as if it wasn't important.
"It would be kind of weird, calling a stranger 'Dad', I mean my mom isn't exactly the most truthful person, what if he isn't my real dad?" Ben threw his head back against the headrest, frustration setting in.
"Benton is my son biologically, but I wasn't much of a real dad for him. Would it be so bad to call him 'Dad'?" Robert Fraser watched the boy hang his head, hiding his feelings as he did.
"I guess not, but it's still weird, I mean we don't really know each other, I've only been here five or six days and two of that I've spent in the back of this SUV." Ben growled. He wanted out so badly.
"You'll get your chance, son, just wait and watch closely." With a mysterious gleam in his eye Robert Fraser disappeared.
"Thanks, Grandpa." The boy shook his head helplessly.
Scene Break
Rain clouds began to gather as Ray and Maggie set out to serve a search warrant to search William Robert Devane's house and garage. Ray had been very specific in asking to search the garage, he'd had a few warrants go south over the years because they weren't specific enough. If Devane owned a blade of grass, Ray wanted to be able to examine it.
"How's Fraser holding up, he seems too cool, too quiet, I know he's like that, but somethin' ain't right." Ray took Maggie's smaller hand in his free one, squeezing her fingers gently. She turned to look at him, a weary smile pulling on her features.
"Benton isn't saying much, he's very private, even with me. I do know he feels deeply responsible for young Ben. He missed having his father around growing up and feels like he's let Ben down in the same way." Maggie propped her elbow on the window sill, her head leaned on her hand.
"How's he think he's the same as his father, Fraser didn't know about Ben until last week." Ray reasoned as he took a right hand turn too fast in the old Crown Vic.
"Benton missed the opportunity to give Ben what he never received from our father." Maggie answered. How someone felt wasn't necessarily tied to how things actually were in reality.
"Chicks give Fraser their numbers every day of the week and he never gives 'em the time of day, I've never understood that." Something about the big, red, polite mountie acted like a chick magnet, always had.
"But none of them were Victoria." A bitter resentment welled up through Maggie's voice when she spoke the woman's name. She'd caused Benton nothing but heartache and loneliness. Ray heard the emotion but said nothing.
A few minutes later Ray and Maggie pulled up in front of Wm. Robert Devane's nice, brick house. Uniformed officers sat outside waiting on the lieutenant to arrive. Midkiff walked up to his boss and flashed the cute blonde a wickedly charming smile by way of hello.
"Lt. Kowalski, everything is in place, we're ready to enter when you are." After glaring at Midkiff for flirting with Maggie, Ray took the warrant up to the front door. Just as he started to knock he heard a voice call out.
"What's going on here, why are the police in my driveway?" A gruff voiced man demanded as he stormed up the front lawn toward Ray.
"Mr. Wm. Robert Devane?" He asked, eying the bespectacled accountant.
"Yes, that's me, now tell me why there are cops parked in my driveway." In his mid-forties, Wm. Robert looked like a man who spent most of his time with numbers. He wore wire rimmed glasses and a yellow polo shirt with his khakis.
"We have reason to believe that a 2010 Ford Explorer licensed in your name was used in a kidnapping, we'd like to speak to you and your brother, Mr. Devane." Ray spoke in a brisk, professional manner. Maggie and Aurora leaned against the Crown Vic, watching the show.
"I have no idea where my brother is, Officer. He has my Explorer, he borrowed it a few days ago, that's not uncommon, but that doesn't explain, again, why there are cops swarming my house." Wm. Robert pushed up nose to nose with Ray, his face as red as a fire engine.
"There here because I intend to turn your house up side down until I find the fourteen year old boy that you, your brother and Mark Gordon abducted from Chicago Ice rink Sunday afternoon." Ray pushed back, his index finger prodding the accountant backward as he jabbed it into his chest.
"Sir, we've cleared the house and the garage, both are empty." A burly, African-American officer strode up to Ray and interrupted the heated conversation. A smug expression on the accountant's face made Ray extremely angry. Maggie saw her boyfriend's jaw begin to work and his nostrils flare even from a distance. She stepped up to where he stood, only inches away from the cocky SOB. With a gentle hand she pulled Ray back toward the driveway.
"Sir, I'm sure that you are aware that if anything happens to my nephew and you were somehow involved in the kidnapping, you will be charged as well." She leveled an arctic blue gaze at him that would have stopped a raging bull, then she leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "If there's anything left after I and my wolf have finished with you." He looked down at the white wolf growling at his feet, her long, sharp fangs bared as she snarled up at him. Wm. Robert Devane shrank back from the bristling animal. Maggie turned and walked back to the car, Aurora still growling low in her throat. The lady mountie spoke the part wolf's name and snapped her fingers loudly.
"I'd listen to her if I were you, buster, she's little but she's dangerous." Ray walked off, a certain cocky spring to his step as he watched Maggie get into the car.
"Sir, we just received word, Mr. Devane owns a rental house near the rail yard." Midkiff walked up to Ray's car window, cell phone in hand and a dark expression on his usually placid face.
"That address isn't on the search warrant, we can't do diddly squat about it." Ray slammed his hand against the steering wheel.
"No, Sir, it isn't, I'm sorry." The detective raised his hands in defeat. One cop car in the driveway and Devane would have a lawsuit filed against the department. Ray's hands were tied.
"Where is the rental property, Detective Midkiff?" Maggie asked calmly. The Chicago lieutenant turned to look at his girlfriend, wondering what was up her red, mountie sleeve.
"511 Dickenson Street." Midkiff responded after looking at the email on his phone.
"Ray, would you kindly drive me to the Canadian Consulate?" The lady mountie had an idea she wanted to run by Fraser.
Scene Break