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"I agree."

Andy dragged one of the men over to the couch and secured him. Monica helped him pull the last man over to the farthest couch and confined him.

"You can't keep us like this forever. If that bear breaks in, we're all dead," Denny said.

"You can't confine me," Helen said. "It's illegal. What you're doing is illegal!"

"We could confine her to one of the bedrooms," Monica said.

"I have every right to speak. The Fourth Amendment gives me that right. And you can’t do that to me."

"Yeah, let's move her." Andy figured that would free up one of the brass poles, which could hold one of the men.

Then, between the two of them, they took her out of the room and confined her to the bed.

"You can't do this to me," Helen screamed.

But they really needed that other pole to confine the last of the men. The couch would have to do for the other.

Once they secured her to the bed, they started to leave the room.

“You can’t do this to me!” Helen screamed at them. “I’m going to sue you both. What are your badge numbers?”

They gave her their badge numbers again and then left the room, shutting the door. Then they moved the man secured to the couch to the other bar pole. They checked the men’s pockets for anything and found three more loaded handguns.

“So this one is Lionel Boyer, the guy in camo,” Andy said, looking at his driver’s license.

“And this one is Teague Moore.” Monica stuffed his driver’s license in his wallet and set it on the kitchen counter.

They checked Wendell’s driver’s license and saw his name was Wendell Marquart.

Andy put Lionel’s wallet with Teague’s. “So tell me about these guys, Denny.”

“I’ve never seen them in my life.”

“That’s why they’re here at this cabin, hollering your name. Or at least Wendell was,” Andy said.

They opened Wendell’s backpack to see what was inside.

“You can’t go through my stuff without a search warrant.” Wendell’s face turned red with anger.

Wendell’s shaggy, mousy brown hair covered his ears, a scar raked across his cheek, and a skull tattoo on his left hand mocked the viewer. His chin was stubby with a cleft the size of Texas on it, and another scar cut across his bottom lip that doveinto the cleft. What had he been involved in that had caused the scars? Other criminal pursuits?

“He said he had the ransom money, patted the bag, and that’s good enough to check out the bag to see if he has the money.” Andy opened the bag while Monica recorded it with her cell phone. “Besides, we needed to look for any other weapons.” Andy pulled out another gun.

“You’ve violated a million of our rights,” Denny said.

“We saved your lives from that polar bear, remember?” Andy figured the gig was up as far as making up a story that all four men couldn’t have seen what they thought they had seen.

Monica checked the two other guys to ensure they were still breathing.

Teague started to stir and sat up, alarmed. “Hell.” He looked around the room. “Where’s the bear?” His red hair was tied back in a tail, and he wore a mustache; his chin was clean-shaven. He had a baby face with red freckles that bridged his nose and cheeks.

“See, I told you it was a polar bear,” Denny said, annoyed.

“Hell, yeah, it was a polar bear,” Teague said. “He got you too? I can’t believe we’re alive.” He pulled at his restraints. “What the hell?”

“You and the others are under arrest for obtaining ransom money for a false kidnapping,” Monica said. “Are there any more of you involved?”