by Tom Soule
Everything her parents had feared had turned out to be true. She'd be paraded into the police station in handcuffs. An arrest that came at the worst possible time. Nothing she said or did could prevent the horrifying events from unfolding.
Officer Morton stepped into the shed while his partner waited outside with Betsy. He shined his flashlight through the shed. Sarah couldn't tell whether the light had given away her position or not. Then to her surprise, the officer said,
"Doesn't look like there's anything here, ma'am. Must have been a gust of wind that blew the door open."
Sarah couldn't believe it. This scenario was becoming far worse than she could have ever imagined. She watched in horror as Officer Morton slowly shut the shed's doors. And then she heard the sound of a key turning in a padlock. She was locked in. The door wouldn't open from the inside. If she screamed, they would know she was here. If not, how much time would pass before her body dehydrated?
She listened to Betsy Johnson talk to the officers. Betsy seemed skeptical. She used Sarah's name and words like "out there," "obsessed," "she might need someone to talk to." Betsy said she didn't feel safe at home alone and was already packed up to leave town for the rest of the weekend. She'd be back to attend the funeral though, she told Officer Morton.
A few minutes passed, and then everything went silent. No footsteps. No voices. Just Sarah and the darkness. She waited for five minutes. Ten minutes passed. At least half an hour and still nothing. Sarah's mind raced with terror. There would be no easy way out of this.
Just before she decided to give in and begin screaming her head off for help, the shed door suddenly began to slide open once again. Officer Morton walked inside and shined his flashlight down at her. Sarah squinted as the light hit her eyes.
"I'm so sorry," she said as she began crying softly.
"Don't cry, Sarah. You've got 20 minutes until my partner drives back around and sees that I'm still here. That's how long you'll have to explain yourself." Sarah exhaled.
Realizing that her troubles were far from over, she decided to start speaking right away. She talked about Clara and the cryptic messages. She described her close friendship with Michelle and the sensitive, despairing side of her that no one had ever seen. She mentioned that the entire town was bonkers for simply dismissing everything and moving on with their lives.
She told him she had come here to look for Michelle's diary or something to that effect. To her surprise, Officer Morton never stopped nodding. He looked as if he truly believed her.
"I believe you, Sarah; it's okay. For what it's worth, other people might believe this story too. What's happening is a lot more intriguing than most people could have ever imagined."
Sarah knew it. Michelle hadn't been just a kind woman; she had been a great woman. There were events and details surrounding her, her family, and her business that were never mentioned to anyone. She'd certainly found it much easier to be herself whenever she'd been alone with Sarah.
"So, what are we going to do now?" Sarah asked, her eyes wide with excitement. The idea of finally being able to say in her sleep that she hadn't let Michelle down was approaching. That moment came to an end quickly.
"Unfortunately, Sarah, we're not going to be doing anything. I'll follow up with your information myself. But your parents have already reported you missing. And I got a good idea Miss Johnson knows what you're up to, even if she didn't know you were hiding in the shed."
"So now what?"
"Now I'm going to do you a favor and take you on home."
Sarah was heartbroken. But she could see that Officer Morton wasn't playing games. He'd take her out of there in handcuffs if necessary. So, she climbed out of the shed and joined him in the backyard. Together, they walked around to the front of the house. Sarah got into the front seat of the police vehicle and slumped in her seat. She wasn't looking forward to returning home.
"Oh, by the way, Sarah. Someone wanted me to give you this. I don't know who. It was sitting on my desk when I clocked in tonight."
Sarah turned and once again the excitement she'd felt since she'd become determined to find Michelle's killer returned. Another message was written on Clara's favorite stationery. This one was different, though. Sarah read the words.
Don't read the back of this piece of paper until you know the time is right.
Sarah took a deep breath. She hoped this was the help Clara was offering that she so desperately needed. Sarah could just as easily turn the note over right now, but she knew doing so would create a problem. She just didn't know why. So Sarah tucked the note into her pants pockets and slouched back down in her seat.
*****
Sarah exited the police cruiser and walked inside her parent's house. As she entered, she wasn't surprised to see her parents' stern but deeply concerned faces. She was shocked, however, to see Betsy Johnson sitting on the couch in the living room.
Sarah kicked off her jogging shoes and walked into the room with her head down. She sat down next to Betsy—the only available seat in the room—and managed to mumble an apology.
"I'm sorry," she said to Betsy.
Betsy nodded and quietly thanked Sarah for the apology. "Your parents have a few things they would like to say to you, young lady."
Sarah nodded and looked over at her father.
"We're a little disappointed in you, Sarah, but we believe you can make the right choices. We want you to take a ride with Miss Johnson for a little while."
Sarah frowned. "This late, Dad?"
"We know what tomorrow is," her mother said a little too loudly. "But we have got to get this situation under control. Fast. Miss Johnson?"
Betsy turned to Sarah. "I want to spend just a little time with you, young lady. I want to explain how you're hurting me. And my family."
No matter how hard Sarah tried, she just couldn't understand the logic. But she finally agreed. "Okay, Miss Johnson. I'll go along with you."
The two walked out of the house together. Betsy promised Sarah's parents that she'd bring their daughter back home safely within the hour. Then they got into an old beat-up Buick and drove away into the dark.
Being with Betsy Johnson that night was the last thing Sarah wanted to do. In fact, for the first time since she'd decided to search for Michelle's killer, she no longer felt like she had it in her to see this through. Perhaps she'd bitten off more than she could chew. Perhaps Michelle really did want all of this to be left alone.
Maybe what Sarah was doing really was wrong. Maybe it was better to move on with her life, just as everyone else seemed to want her to do.
*****
Chief Robertson and Officer Morton sat quietly in the police department's conference room and sipped coffee. A box filled with surveillance equipment rested on a table between the two men. Both officers were becoming worried about the plan they'd set into motion following Michelle's murder. They were no longer certain that Sarah would allow them to identify and capture the killer.
"Probably wasn't the best idea to use this girl as bait, Chief. Even if it does work out in her favor in the long run."
Chief Robertson shook his head slowly and wished he hadn't tried quitting smoking during the biggest investigation he'd ever worked. His younger comrade was right, of course. With no suspects, no leads, no witnesses, and no evidence, the Flintstone Police Department had determined that this case wouldn't easily be solved. They'd been forced to take drastic measures.
Allowing a teenager to take matters into her own hands and interfere with a police investigation would normally be a serious problem. But with no leads, Sarah's constant meddling would hopefully provide some leads. Now, however, it appeared Sarah was falling apart.
"Will this work?" Robertson asked Officer Morgan.
"If it doesn't, then we put an innocent girl's life in danger for nothing. Not to mention the fact that we never notified Sarah or her parents."
Chief Robertson contemplated what he would do if his career ended. Then again, it was Fl
intstone. Being a police officer in this town was a little too fun, a little too easy. It was nice to have things shaken up a bit.
"Tell you what," Robertson said as he picked up the box and placed it on the floor. "I think I have a much better idea."
CHAPTER SIX
"I want you to know that you're never alone. You remember that, okay?"
Sarah jolted back to reality. She was sitting in the front seat of Miss Johnson's old Buick. They had arrived at Michelle's house. Sarah looked confused as she tried to recall the flashback she'd just had while also trying to understand why Betsy decided to bring her here.
"Do you mind stepping inside for some tea, young lady?"
Sarah wanted to decline the offer. She wanted to turn around and run in the opposite direction. There was something seriously wrong with this picture. Like the fact that she'd heard Betsy tell Officer Morgan earlier that she was leaving town that night and would be gone for the remainder of the weekend. So, why would she want Sarah to come back to her home
Maybe the cryptic messages from the only other person who understood her, Clara. Sarah shut her eyes as she walked into the kitchen to join Betsy for tea. She took a deep breath, then finally reached into her pocket and pulled out the last remaining note. She unfolded the paper and began reading.
Dear Sarah,
We here at Flintstone have all believed in you.
We find your spirit remarkable and your passion for learning a treasure here in this community. You have been blessed with an opportunity.
Trust yourself, and all will be well.
Sarah reread the letter a second time again as the pieces began falling together. She realized that for years she'd imagined a lonely environment just as Michelle had. But in reality, there were hundreds of people who adored her and appreciated her for who she was. Sarah had never known.
She resisted the urge to show her fear. Sarah refused the tea. Maybe there was a way she could buy some time and figure out what happened. But Betsy wouldn't make it easy.
"After everything you've done to me and my family, the least I ask is that you don't insult me. Now, young lady. Please enjoy a cup of tea with me."
"I won't have tea with you, ma'am. I know you're the one who poisoned Michelle! You killed your own sister-in-law!"
Sarah flinched at the sound of her voice. This was the loudest she'd spoken in her life. But when the woman began laughing hysterically, Sarah realized her gamble had paid off.
"That's nonsense, you silly girl. And how dare you make such an accusation. I'm going to call the police and have you thrown in the city jail. Spend a night or two in there, and I bet you'll change your attitude."
"Michelle told me she had family problems," Sarah continued.
"Michelle told me. I've put it all together, ma'am. You will be held accountable for what you've done."
It was at that moment that Sarah saw the woman's true rage. The anger bottled up inside of a woman who hated Michelle. Michelle was wealthier, more attractive, and more likable than she could ever be.
Abruptly, Betsy picked up a coffee mug off the kitchen table and flung it across the room. The porcelain shattered into little pieces, startling Sarah in her seat. Slowly, Betsy walked towards a cabinet, reached inside, and pulled out an ugly silver handgun.
"I won't be held accountable at all, Sarah. You don't think I brought you here to talk, do you?"
Sarah stared into Betsy's eyes, determined not to let the woman see her fear.
She knew what was about to happen and at least wanted to learn the truth before her life ended.
"Why?" Sarah asked.
"Why did you kill her?
"You want to know why?
Do you have any idea how she alienated me from this entire town?
All anyone cared about was Michelle this, Michelle that.
She spent more time with the town than her own husband, I think that really what killed him.
She had him fooled too."
"Michelle was my friend. She was like a mentor to me. She came to me because She trusted me, as I trusted her. You were jealous so you...killed her?
Betsy Johnson laughed. "Yes, I did. But that's not the only reason. The fact that Michelle was going to cut off all the Johnson financially was too much.
She acted like she created all the different businesses without our help. My side of the family wouldn't receive any royalties from her estate. That witch was cutting us off. She was making changes to the estate, and I wouldn't stand for that. I managed to get a hold of some arsenic and place it in the pizza at the restaurant.
I then convinced her to come home. She died in that chair you're sitting in. I slip her phone back on the counter at the pizza shop so no one would know she was here."
"You were going to poison me too, weren't you?" Sarah asked.
"Well, you're a little too smart for your own good," Betsy said as she approached Sarah.
The girl could see the shiny steak knife concealed behind her back.
"I guess this is where you and I say good-bye, young lady."
Sarah stood up and began backing away as Betsy aimed the gun directly at her chest.
"You'll never get away with this, Miss Johnson. My parents will never stop until you're in prison!"
Betsy cocked the gun and smiled.
Sarah shut her eyes and waited for the end to come.
She thought about those movies where the life flashed before someone's eyes before they died. She wondered why it wasn't happening now.
"Drop the gun, Miss Johnson!" a voice shouted from behind Sarah.
Sarah opened her eyes and spun around. Behind her, standing tall with his weapon drawn, was Officer Morton. He aimed his gun directly at Miss Johnson's upper torso, never wavering for a second. Sarah suddenly realized he'd been inside the house all along. She ran backwards and ducked behind Officer Morton.
"You underestimated just how much this town is willing to do to look out for our own. Sarah is one of our own. And so was Michelle Johnson. She was a great woman."
"Oh, give me a break!" Betsy said in disgust.
"she made pizzas for a living."
Outside, Sarah could hear sirens rapidly approaching in the distance. And from the corner of her eye, she could see out the window. The entire town of Flintstone, wide awake after 6:00 am in the morning.
"Miss Betsy Johnson, if you don't drop the gun, I'll have no choice but to fire. Drop the weapon, turn around, and put your hands behind your head."
Sarah watched as Betsy continued pointing the gun at Officer Morton.
Two seconds passed. Then five. Sarah shut her eyes again and waited for the sound of a gunshot.
Instead, she heard a loud thump. Sarah opened her eyes to see Betsy with her hands up over her head. Betsy slowly turned around. The gun lay on the floor, and Officer Morton kicked it away. He rushed in and cuffed the angry woman hands behind her back.
"I hereby place you under arrest for the murder of Michelle Johnson."
Sarah covered her eyes with her hands and began weeping while Officer Morton handcuffed Betsy and led her out of the house. It was over.
She had managed to find Michelle's killer and help put the woman behind bars. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard Michelle's familiar chuckle.
She saw her soft, sad smile. Sarah knew Michelle would be proud.
Three more officers entered the home to escort her back to her parents' house. Outside, as the daybreak. The lonely soon-to-be-high-school-graduate looked up at the sunrise.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"You look ready, Sarah," her father said that morning as she ate her routine stack of pancakes.
There was nothing routine about today, though. Today was the day she'd be attending her college orientation out of town. But first, she had a very important appointment to make.
After Michelle's funeral, it had taken many days—and many more tears—to open up and let her family know how she truly felt. She'd described the feelings she'd had in
common with Michelle, and they'd finally listened.
She was going to see a therapist to talk about her grief and more importantly, her ongoing depression. She'd had many friends for years who loved her, but Sarah always felt lonely and sad. Just like Michelle had.
"I'm ready, Dad," Sarah said as she looked into her father's eyes. And she wasn't lying. She wouldn't go through college feeling the same way she'd felt in high school.
"You know I'm proud of you, Sarah."
"Really?"
"Of course. It takes a lot of guts to admit you need help. Your mother and I will never forget this day." Sarah grinned fiercely.
Over the last few months, her passiveness had disappeared, replaced with a burning desire to grow up and become a respectable woman. She certainly had the brains and courage to do it. Sarah and her father left the house and got into the family car. They drove quietly for a while until her father pulled to a halt near an intersection.
Sarah realized they'd arrived at Pluto's Pizzeria. The business was up and running again. A large piece of cardboard sat in front of the business. Sarah looked at a smiling photo of herself and reread the words on the cardboard for the last time before she went away to college.
WE LOVE SARAH JOHNSON!!!!!
FLINTSTONE FOREVER!!!!!!
"I don't want you to ever forget that, Sarah." Sarah looked at her father.
"How could I ever?"
The two shared a brief moment of laughter.
Sarah's father pulled back into the street and onto the interstate a few minutes later.
"So, do you have any special plans for college?
I know you're wanting to get more into science."
Sarah thought about it for a moment. Then she looked at her father again with a sly smile.
"I think I want to be a detective one day, Dad."
