Heartfield Ranch (Communities of Discipline Book 2) (6 page)

She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out.

“You will give me an explanation,” Clay said.

Karen suddenly felt angry. The tone was demanding.
How dare he?
she thought.
How dare he?

“I’m a grown woman perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” she said. “I don’t have to give you an explanation if I don’t want to.”

“I disagree,” said Clay. He looked back at the phone. You show up at our gate in a clunker of a car and claiming to be flat broke, but in possession of what looks like a brand new cell phone. You avail yourself of our hospitality under what I’m beginning to suspect are false pretenses. So yeah, young lady, I do think you owe me an explanation. And you will give me one. I explained the rules to you when we took you in. Maybe outside this place you answered to no one, but as long as you’re here you answer to me. Now, I’m going to count to five. If you don’t start talking you’re going to wish you had. One…”

“You can’t be serious.” The wind had died down, but the fear Karen felt was renewed, but for a different reason.

“Two.”

“This is ridiculous,” she said. “I would have been fine. You didn’t have to come after me.”

“Three.” Clay’s mouth was a grim line, his eyes intense as he looked at her.

“So what if I have a cell phone. Is that illegal here, too?” Karen injected bravery into her tone, even though she didn’t feel particularly brave at that moment. Her head was swimming in the unbelievable notion that this man was clearly intent on chastising her like a child if she didn’t tell him what she’d been doing out in the storm with a cell phone in her hand. And she was so flustered; she worried that a lame excuse would blow her cover. She had to hold on. She had to, at least long enough to find out more, to let her superiors know she’d found Ann Marie, to find out what was behind the door just behind Clay.

“Four.”

The wind was dying down now, and outside Karen could hear the sound of a loose board flapping against the barn. The danger from the storm was past. But the danger in the barn was not. She had to get out.

She stood. “If you think I’m going to let you-”

But she didn’t get to finish her sentence. Clay had grabbed her as she tried to move past and was hauling her over to a stack of feedbags. Sitting on them, he pulled her easily across his lap.

Karen’s mind jumped back to her police academy training, to what she’d been taught to do in an assault.

With a strength that surprised even her, she jabbed a sharp elbow into her captor’s ribs and was rewarded by an “oomph” from the larger man. Clay momentarily loosened his grip, more from surprise than any real hurt, and Karen took that opportunity to try and escape. But she’d only gotten a few feet towards the door when he grabbed her again, this time pinning her arms to her sides.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said.

Karen twisted her body to no avail, and realized that Clay had only been using a portion of his strength to hold her initially. Now he had a firmer grip and she thrashed about helplessly as he took his seat again.

Her legs pin-wheeled as she tried to kick him, but he immobilized them by throwing his own long leg over hers as he positioned her face down over his lap. Karen struggled to free herself but could not find a way. This was one hold that had not been covered in the police academy.

She was torn between panic and fury as Clay rested a hand on her bottom. “Last chance,” he said.

“Fuck you!” she shot back. If this man thought she was anything like submissive little women he was used to, he had another think coming.
So let him hit me
, she thought
. Just let him. I won’t shed a tear. And when it’s done I’ll have his ass thrown in jail for assault
.

But when his large hand came down – hard- on the seat of her jeans she cried out in spite of herself.

“I was going to be easy on you,” he said, seeing as how this is your first time. “But you should know you’ve ruined that privilege by fighting and cursing.”

“Go to hell!” she shot back, unable to keep the fear out of her voice even as she said it.

His response was to start spanking her with rapid force. And Karen, who’d never been spanked – at least not like this - realized quickly that her plans to remain stoic were short-sighed. The blows hurt. They hurt terribly. And no matter how hard she tried to shift away she could not escape that merciless hand that rose and fell, rose and fell over and over again against the seat of her jeans. The fabric offered little protection against the building sting that started in the middle of her bottom and grew more intense as Clay shifted her forwards to concentrate the smacks on the lower buttocks just above her thighs. Karen was crying now, further angered and humiliated at losing control so easily.

“Stop!” she cried. “Stop! Oh God please stop!”

“Have you learned your lesson?” Clay asked between smacks that continued.

“Let me go!” she screamed.

“What were you doing out there?” He continued to spank, moving the blows up now again to the middle of her bottom.

“Nothing! I was just making a phone call!”

“To who?” He continued to spank.

“Stop!” She sobbed the word. “Please stop. It hurts! It hurts so much!”

“There’s only one way to get me to stop,” Clay said, letting the blows land randomly now. Karen bucked as he continued to strike her bottom, which felt like it had been assailed by a hundred beestings. “Tell me what you’re really doing here.”

Karen could take it no longer. She felt she would die if she didn’t get relief, and there was one way, she knew, to make this man cease.

“All right” She cried. “All right! I’m a cop, OK? I’m a cop!”

“You’re a what?” Clay all but pushed Karen off his lap and she stood, angrily wiping her teary face as she fixed him with a withering look.

“You heard me,” she sputtered, now unconsciously rubbing her sore, throbbing bottom. “I’m a cop. And you’re under arrest for assault. You have the right…”

Clay began to laugh. “You may have to call for back-up, young lady. Because it’s going to be hard to arrest me one-handed while you rub your backside with the other.”

Karen’s face grew red with anger. “Don’t you dare mock me,” she said. “And this is no laughing matter. You assaulted me…”

“I spanked you, Betty,” he said. “If Betty is your real name. I doubt that it is, though.”

“It’s Karen Patterson
. Officer
Karen Patterson,” she said. “And it appears that the rumors about this place were correct. A systematic abuse of women, a weapons cache…”

“Weapons cache?” Clay’s look had changed to one of surprise.

“Don’t play stupid with me,” she said, pointing at the door behind her. “Ann Marie let it slip that something dangerous is in the room behind you.”

“In here?” Clay stood up and turned, fishing in his pockets. After a moment he pulled out a key and slipped it on the padlock that secured the door. The lock slid open and he removed it and pushed the door open.

“Here’s your dangerous stuff, Sherlock,” he said, pointing inside.

Karen glanced at him and then walked over to look inside. The concrete walled room held fertilizer and weed killer.

“Some of that stuff can be dangerous to animals and humans,” he said. “That’s why we keep it locked in here. We don’t like to use it, but we have to sometimes.”

He shut the door and turned back to her. “Just like we don’t like to have to spank our women. But we have to sometimes.” He paused. “And I’ve half a mind to turn you back over my knee for lying to me.”

Karen backed up, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. They were alone. She had no gun. He had her phone. He’d already proved that he could overwhelm her physically. Her mouth went cotton dry and she shook her head.

“No,” she said feebly. “No, you won’t. I won’t stand for it.”

“No?” he asked, coming towards her. “And why not? You’ve already said you were going to have me arrested. I might as well make it worth your while. And you certainly deserve it, coming in to our community on false pretenses, accepting our hospitality all while hoping to dig up some kind of dirt that could get us in trouble. And for what? What’s in it for you, Officer? A promotion? Or did Ann Marie’s parents put pressure on you?”

Karen looked away, blushing deeply. Clay Sanders was succeeding in making her feel foolish, and it infuriated her not just because he was pushing her buttons, but because he was doing it with the truth.

“The public has every right to know whether there’s some sort of dangerous group in their midst,” Karen shot back, ignoring his spot-on speculation. “What’s going on here with these women isn’t natural. You know that.”

“It’s not natural to outsiders, young lady.”

“Don’t call me ‘young lady!’” Karen raised her voice this time. The power this man had to agitate her, to put her on the defensive, was maddening.

“I’ll call you what I want.” He spoke the words emphatically, his deep voice sending a chilling stroke down her spine. “And you’d be wise to mind that temper. You’re still at Heartfield, and you came in knowing that you’d answer to me.”

“I came in undercover,” Karen said. “I only said that to get in here. I do not answer to you.”

He stood until he was just inches from her. “Yes you do,” he said. Karen backed away, suddenly afraid. “If you don’t believe me, then smart off again.”

Karen eyed him defiantly, but her knees were shaking under her. She wanted to tell him to go straight to hell, to fuck off, to remind him that if he hit her now it would be not just assault, but assaulting an officer because he knew who she was. But she knew he wasn’t bluffing, and the idea of going back over his knee was not a risk she was willing to take.

She dropped her gaze.

“Clever girl,” he said, and then put a finger under her chin, tipping her face up. “Now,” he said, “we’re going outside and you’ll be free to go, but only after you sit down with this community and they get a chance to tell you what you need to know.”

***

The sun was out when they left the barn. When she looked up at the bright blue sky swimming with clouds, it was hard for Karen to believe there had ever been a storm. But when she looked around it as apparent one had visited. The destruction wasn’t bad, but the winds had not left the community unscathed. Awnings had been blown from windows and chickens were everywhere, having fled from a partially collapsed coop.

Two children were helping Ann Marie gather them back up. When she caught sight of Karen, she smiled.

“Betty!” she said, running over. “Oh my gosh! I thought you were right behind me. I’m so sorry. Are you OK?”

Karen felt a pang of guilt. This woman, who barely knew her, was genuinely concerned.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I found my way .. I mean, Clay here showed me to the barn.”

Jake Markum, Ann Marie’s husband, was walking over now to join the conversation.

“She just suffered a bruised leg,” Clay said. “And a bruised ego.”

He looked from Ann Marie to Jake. “Our guest isn’t who she appears to be.”

“Who is she?” Ann Marie asked, but before Clay could answer, Karen spoke up.

“I’m fully capable of explaining myself,” she said and looked up at the couple. “My name is not Betty Linden. I’m a police officer. My name is Karen Patterson.”

Ann Marie’s face fell. “Oh lord,” she said. “Did my parents put you up to this?”

“They pushed for the investigation,” said Karen. She felt guilty when Ann Marie turned away, teary-eyed, to be comforted by her husband.

“This was the first place Ann Marie said felt like home to her,” Clay said quietly. “I’m sure you’ve been told that she was a high-powered career woman who’s come under some sort of cult-like influence, but she sought us out. When she came to us, she was pretty close to a nervous breakdown from the pressure her job and family was putting on her.”

“What about the pressure she’s under here?”

“And what pressure is that?” Clay asked.

“The pressure to obey,” Karen relied. “To obey or be beaten. Isn’t that pressure? Can’t a person crack under that just as easily?”

Clay rolled his eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, do you?”

“What?”

“I said, ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Are there rules on the outside? Punishment? What happens if you run a stop sign? Pass a stopped school bus? Fail to pay your taxes? Aren’t there punishments for that?”

“Well, yes,” Karen replied. “But we agree to those rules. And we agree to the penalties.”

“And so do we.” Ann Marie had been listening in to the conversation and was now stepping forward. There was no anger in her voice, only a disappointed weariness as she addressed Karen. “I’m not opposed to the society outside of Heartfield,” she continued. “None of us are. But we were all just looking for something different, something more traditional, something we can’t find outside. When I lived in town I was constantly told what to do, even as an adult. ‘File this report’ ‘Assess this skill set’ ‘Attend this function’ –all to meet supposed goals I never even wanted to meet. Do you think someone who is blissfully happy collecting eggs or milking goats could be truly happy rubbing shoulders with people who talk of nothing but their country club memberships? But I was expected to be one of those people, and pushed – even as an adult – by my parents to live the kind of life I knew inside I wasn’t born to live. I was pushed to be their idea of a leader, but learned that ultimately the only way I could really succeed in life was by becoming a follower.”

“Of men?” Karen asked incredulously.

“No,” said Ann Marie. “Of my own heart.”

Ann Marie put her arm around her husband. “You may think submitting to a man is demeaning. But for a woman who wants to do it, and who makes that choice, it is liberating, because it means you have the courage to live in a structure you choose, not one that’s been chosen for you.”

“And we aren’t brutes either,” Jake said. He’d also been listening, along with a growing group of other Heartfielders. We just believe in a chain of command, just the way you probably do in your job.”

“We’re happy here,” said Ann Marie. “Please don’t do anything to ruin the choice that I’ve made.”

Karen looked at Ann Marie and didn’t know what to say. When she did find herself, it was to make a request.

“Could I have my phone back, please?” she asked. “I need to make a call.”

***

“I can’t believe you just gave her back that phone.” Adam paced back in forth in Clay’s living room, his arms crossed across his chest.

Clay, seated on the sofa, his long legs stretched out, his elbows on his knees, scowled as his friend walked past. “What was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” Adam responded irritably. “Stop her? Kick her off the place. She’s a cop, Clay.”  He shook his head. “We know how the rumors about us are spreading in town. We should be less welcoming for this very reason.”

“Then what?” Jake was leaning against the doorframe. “Hide ourselves away here until the rumors get so big that it’s not just one little female cop coming in but a whole Swat Team?”

“Well, I was suspicious of this gal from the beginning,” said Adam. “Just coming up like that, helpless and needing to be taken in, and then asking questions right away like she did. We shouldn’t let people like that in.”

“If that was the rule then I would have never gotten in,” Ann Marie said quietly. “People here were suspicious of me from the start. Some still are.”

She avoided looking at Sarah, but everyone in the room knew who she was talking about. Adam looked down, slightly embarrassed. Ann Marie was right, he knew, but as he glanced over at his wife he was pleased to see her looking ashamed of herself. She was shifting slightly in her seat, too, the plug a constant reminder of her husband’s authority.

“It’s a sad fact that while we choose to remove ourselves from society, we still live in a country dictated by laws,” Clay said. “Now, we aren’t doing anything illegal here. We know that. No woman here has ever alleged abuse, even if some of the people who came and went from here saw it that way. There’s no polygamy, no anti-government activities - nothing but a bunch of people who like to live an old-fashioned lifestyle. Sure, people think we’re weird, but I’d rather be thought of as weird than as a lawbreaker. That’s why I say we should just let this cop stay here and nose around to her heart’s content. She won’t find anything, and when she leaves that will be the end of it.”

“How you know she won’t make something up?” Sarah spoke up now, her voice worried. “How do we know she’s not on the phone right now, lying about what’s going on here?”

Clay smiled. “Because I think she knows better than to lie.”

***

Clemmons picked up on the first ring.

“Hey, it’s me,” Karen said when he answered.

“Damn it, Patterson why the hell haven’t you called?”

“The signal’s weak out here,” she said. “I had to use a land line.”

“You should have done it sooner,” he said. “Are you alright? 

“I’m fine,” Karen said after a moment of hesitation as she tried to ignore the soreness that lingered in her bottom.

“So what have you found out? Any sign of criminal activities?”

Karen shifted on her seat. If she told her superior officer that the leader of the group she was supposed to be investigating had A.) saved her from a stupid decision to run out into a tornado and B.) spanked her for not telling him why she was out in the storm in the first place, he’d hardly understand.

“No. Not yet,” she said.

“Do you suspect anything?”

“I – I don’t know,” she said, and that was an honest answer, or mostly honest. Her gut told her that things were just as Clay Sanders said they were; Heartfield was a peace-loving community that preferred to live an old-fashioned, unconventional life. John Wayne types gravitated to the place, as did women who still wanted to believe John Wayne still existed.

“The weather just said a storm went up that way. Did Heartfield get any of that?”

“Yeah,” she answered. “But everyone here is OK.” Her mind flashed back to how Clay had so easily hefted her up into his arms when he realized she’d bruised her leg. No man had ever done anything like that for her before. The men at the department were so worried about the political correctness that they refused to open doors for the female officers, even if they were carrying something. No one wanted to be accused of implying that men and women weren’t equals. But something had been sacrificed in the effort for equality. Karen felt she had become far less feminine, far less open to the kind of chivalry she sometimes secretly felt as missing from the world. She’d forged a career for herself in what was still a male-dominated field – law enforcement. But she was lonely and not at all attracted to men she now perceived as too weak or accommodating. As she’d gained confidence, Karen found that she longed to find a man who was so confident as she was. But what masqueraded as confidence was often nothing more than false bravado, and she wasn’t interested in men who strutted about with larger-than-life egos. What she wanted, she secretly realized, was a real man.