by Tony Hayden
Mike moved up the trail with a speed he never imagined possible. In only seconds, Jordan Barnes came into view, a rock raised above his head, ready to bring it down on Sara’s skull. Mike plowed into Jordan with the force of a charging bull. The rock bounced harmlessly to the ground and time seemed to stop as he pummeled the face of Jordan Barnes with his fists. Exhaustion finally forced him to stop, and he rolled off the unconscious boy and crawled to Sara. Few words could be spoken as they held each other and cried. “I told you I would find you,” Mike whispered. “I told you I would find you.”
Sara Jean Haller was finally going home.
Mike had used Jordan’s shoelaces to bind the young man’s wrists behind his back. It took almost an hour to reach the quarry as he had carried his exhausted daughter most of the way.
As they broke from the forest, He advised Sara to look away from the body of Hunter Barnes. “He will never hurt you again, honey,” Mike cooed.
Sara watched as the dead body of the police officer she had witnessed talking to Pop in the clearing the night before, slipped past. She tensed and quickly looked around for any sign of Pop.
“What’s the matter, Sara?” Mike asked. “I promise, no one will ever hurt you again.”
Sara relaxed and rested her head on her father’s shoulder. “I know, Daddy, “she whispered. “He will never hurt anyone again.”
Mike unlocked the tailgate of the Jeep and roughly tossed Jordan into the back. “Lay there and don’t you dare make a sound,” he advised. “I will hang you from a tree if you do.”
Before closing the door, Mike looked around and noticed one of the vehicles was missing. “Who was driving the Ford Bronco, Jordan?”
Jordan shrugged and smiled.
Mike closed the door, helped Sara into the passenger’s seat, then set out for the long trip back to Ranch Springs.
forty
Six months later
Mike stood with Deputy Watts outside the Boulder County Courthouse. A change of venue for the murder trial of Jordan Barnes had been granted for the simple fact that everyone in Red Feather County knew Jordan or his now deceased step-father. The temperature had dropped overnight to a frigid fourteen degrees and snow was beginning to fall.
“What do you think this recess is all about, Ryan?” Haller asked.
Deputy Watts shrugged. “Who knows,” he said. “The prosecutor is adding four more charges of first degree murder to the case because of the remains we have uncovered at the Barnes cabin.” Watts rubbed his hands together then tucked them tightly into his armpits. “We are still looking for more. I would really like to find the Araujo girl and her boyfriend to bring some closure for their parents.”
Mike shook his head and sighed. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you about the alternate theory you were working on before I found Sara. You mentioned something not being right with the timeline of the disappearances?”
A troubled look crossed Deputy Watts’ face. “Yeah,” he said. “When the Irish girl disappeared seven years back, Sheriff Barnes was at a conference in Kansas City.”
“So, Jordan acted alone on that one?” Mike asked.
“Jordan was only fifteen years old at the time. I’ve asked around and people say he was a complete pipsqueak at fifteen. I just can’t see him taking on something that huge as a squeaky voiced boy.”
Mike saw Sara and Jean through the courthouse doors. They had stopped by the small café on the main floor to get hot cocoa. He waved to them then said, “I don’t know, Ryan, I’ve seen fifteen year olds commit some pretty heinous crimes. Let’s go in before we freeze.”
Mike and Deputy Watts entered the courthouse. “Did you find anything out about the Ford Bronco parked at the quarry when this all went down?” Mike asked Watts.
Deputy Watts breathed heavily. “There are over seventy Ford Broncos listed in Red Feather County alone. I’m afraid that is a dead end.”
Mike shrugged it off. “Probably just a hunter or hiker in the area.”
Mike walked up and hugged Sara tightly. “You get your belly warmed up, sweetheart?”
Sara smiled. “I did, Dad. How long do you think it will be before I have to take the witness stand?”
Mike looked at Jean and took her hand and pulled her close. “I think you are up next, honey. It shouldn’t be much longer.”
Jean wrapped her arm around Mike’s waist. “Good,” she said. “I want this to be over soon so the three of us can put this all behind us.”
A commotion in the hallway started as people began filing back into the courtroom. Rose Barnes and Virginia Winter were walking close to Gray Popineau; hands held tightly, tears flowing and heads bowed in prayer. Mike began moving toward the doors.
“Wait!” Sara almost yelled. She took a second to compose herself. “Let’s wait until everyone gets seated.”
When the hallway emptied, Mike, Jean, and Sara walked into the courtroom.
“All rise!” the bailiff spoke forcefully and all attendees rose with a shuffle.
The Honorable Roxanne Butler entered with haste and called out, “Please be seated.” She took her chair and gaveled the court into session. “Mr. Prosecutor, is the plea agreement in order?”
The Boulder County Prosecutor cleared his throat. “It is, Your Honor, and it is acceptable to the people.”
“Mr. Kimball,” Judge Butler addressed the defense attorney, “has your client found the plea agreement acceptable?”
“He has, Your Honor.”
The court room erupted in excited murmur. Judge Butler gaveled the audience to silence. “I will have quiet in my courtroom,” she demanded. “Jordan Barnes, please stand.”
Jordan stood. His head was bowed and he picked at his fingernails incessantly.
“Mr. Barnes, will you please inform this court as to the reasoning behind this sudden change of mind? Are you being coerced or threatened in any way?”
Jordan cleared his throat. “No, Ma’am.”
“No, Ma’am, you do not wish to inform the court?”
Jordan looked perplexed for a moment before his attorney leaned over and explained to him what the judge was looking for. “No, Ma’am. I have not been cursed at or threatened.”
The audience broke out in laughter.
Judge Butler could not help but laugh a little herself before gaveling the audience back to silence.
“Coerced, Mr. Barnes, not cursed. Has any person offered to pay you a sum of money or compelled you by force or intimidation to agree to this plea bargain?”
“No, Ma’am.”
“Please explain to this court why you wish to change your ‘Not Guilty’ plea.”
Jordan fidgeted and wrung his hands before pointing to the audience. “My Pastor and my attorney think it is the right thing for me to do, Ma’am.”
Judge Butler looked at Gary Popineau in the audience and nodded. Popineau bowed his head and closed his eyes in response.
“You do realize that this plea agreement does not reduce the amount of time you will serve in the state penitentiary?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Jordan’s attorney whispered something in his ear. “I mean, yes, Your Honor,” Jordan corrected himself.
“And you do realize, Mr. Barnes, as a stipulation of this plea agreement that, at sentencing, you will be required to give full disclosure regarding the crimes you have confessed to? You will aid the authorities in their search for the remaining bodies of your victims?”
Jordan looked back to Pastor Popineau and received a nod before answering. “I did not murder those women, Your Honor. My step-daddy killed them all.” He looked back again and watched as Popineau held his mother while she cried. Turning back to the judge, he continued, “Hunter Barnes raped those girls and cut up their bodies, Your Honor.”
Judge Butler banged her gavel once. “Save it for the sentencing, Mr. Barnes.” She gathered some papers at her bench and made some notes. “Jordan Barnes, on the five counts of first degree murder, how do you plead?”
“Guilty, Ma’am, uh Your Honor.”
“On the counts of kidnapping in the first degree and attempted murder, how do you plead?”
“Guilty, Your Honor.”
“A guilty plea on all counts has been entered and accepted by this court. Representatives will meet in my chambers in fifteen minutes to set a date for sentencing. The jury is excused and this court stands adjourned.” Judge Butler banged her gavel for the last time and the audience stood while she left.
Sara stood holding her father tightly and crying. “So, I don’t have to sit in front of all those people and describe what they did to me?”
Mike patted his daughter’s head while Jean rubbed her back. “No, honey. It’s all over,” Mike assured her.
Jean wedged in between Mike and Sara. “Get the car, Mike,” she directed. Then to Sara she said, “That bastard will be going to prison for the rest of his life, baby. You can put him from your mind and never think about him again.”
Sara hugged her Mom close and watched over her shoulder as Gary Popineau led Jordan’s family to a waiting van.
forty-one
Summer was growing cooler, impelling Sara to burrow a little deeper into the high collar of her turtle-neck sweater. The anteroom of her psychotherapist was decorated in warm colors, soft lighting, and original artwork, but was always at least ten degrees cooler than Dr. Sondra J. Purdy’s office. She suspected that this was intentional to aid the patient’s transition from the “cold” world outside, into the safe and cozy environment of the doctor’s lair behind the doors made of solid walnut.
“Sara, I am so happy to see you today,” Dr. Purdy welcomed.
Sara felt instantly better. She stood and smiled and took Sondra’s hand. Dr. Purdy insisted that she be addressed by her first name only. Sara appreciated the intimacy this tiny detail added to her sessions.
“I wouldn’t miss our last appointment of the summer together for all the money in the world,” Sara shared as she took her place on the comfortable faux leather couch. She reached over and fondled the leaves of a flourishing Peace Lily. “I knew you could save this plant.”
Dr. Purdy took a seat in a matching Camille chair and folded her hands in her lap. “I consider that Lily as one of my greatest accomplishments,” she offered. “When you brought it in, I was certain it was destined for the compost pile in my back yard.”
Sara smiled and settled into her favorite spot on the couch. “It just proves that we should never give up when life still has a chance.”
Sondra Purdy sat back and made herself comfortable. “If there has ever been one person to sit on that couch who understood the true meaning of your statement, Ms. Haller, it is you.” She smiled broadly. “You are looking absolutely resplendent, Sara. How have you been since out last conversation?”
“I am doing much better, Sondra. I spent the last two weeks and my father’s entire savings shopping for new clothes and furniture for school this fall.” Sara touched the collar of her sweater. “Lots of high-necked apparel.”
Concern washed over Dr. Purdy’s face. “Let’s talk about your physical appearance, Sara. The last time we met, you were recovering from cosmetic surgery to reduce the scarring under your breast. Was the surgery successful?”
Sara shrugged and looked at the Lily. “It looks better than it did, but the scar will always be there.” Her eyes watered. “It’s like a large pale banner across my chest to remind me how rotten the world can be.”
Dr. Purdy empathized. “It is a ‘banner’, Sara, but the wonderful thing is that you get to choose what that banner says. When I see the marks on your neck and on your chest, I am reminded of the resiliency of a young woman who fought the worst evil has to offer, and came out victorious.” She paused for a moment to let the message reverberate. “Tell me what you see when you look in the mirror?”
Sara pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped her eyes. “I try not to look in the mirror,” she said. “But, when I do, I see the driver of that tow truck sitting on my stomach, with that huge hunting knife in both of his hands…” Sara blotted her eyes again, “…and I see my aspirations, and my expectations, and my optimism wiped away with a single thrust.”
Dr. Purdy let the moment breathe, then asked, “When you woke the next morning, in that hole, what was your first thought?”
Sara blew her nose into the tissue and dropped it into a waste-basket before answering. “I was surprised that I was still alive.” She looked up and smiled a bit. “And I was damn certain that I was going to stay that way.”
“So, your optimism and your aspiration and your expectation endured?”
Sara thought for a second before answering. “They did, but their definitions certainly changed.”
Sondra offered gently, “Our definitions change with time. I see growth in you, Sara. And as we grow, we come to realize that it is our individual obligation to define our own lives. To let others define us is to relinquish authority over our very existence.”
Sara pulled down the collar of her sweater and revealed a patch of white puckered skin beneath her left ear. “I think I am a long way from defining this as a badge of honor, Sondra. I see it as a symbol of helplessness.”
“You may have experienced helplessness at that moment, but you survived, and you flourished, and you faced down two evil men, and you were victorious over them.”
Sara remained silent.
“One of my favorite quotes says, ‘You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact, it may be necessary to encounter the defeats, so you can know who you are, what you can rise from, how you can still come out of it.’”
Sara smiled. “Maya Angelou,” she said. “I just finished her autobiography. She is such an inspiring woman.”
“I think Sara Haller is an inspiring woman. If she would only open her eyes and see what everyone else sees in her.”
Sara blushed slightly. “Maybe someday,” she said. “There is something I have to do first.” She became serious. “Do you think it is possible for a good person to be evil?”
Dr. Purdy struggled for a moment with the change in Sara’s demeanor. “I believe it is entirely possible for a good person to commit an evil act. What do you believe, Sara?”
“I think that once a good person does something obscene, evil wins. Good and evil can never live in harmony. One will always consume the other.”
Dr. Purdy saw a dark cloud pass over Sara’s face. “Does it help you at all to know that the man who raped got what he deserved?”
Sara focused on the wall and stared for a long time. “The man who raped me will get what he deserves,” she said quietly.
Dr. Purdy looked confused for a moment. “You speak of him as though you feel he’s still alive.” Sondra leaned forward and looked Sara in the eye. “It is quite normal for you to imagine that your attacker is among the living; to feel that he is somehow able to resume stalking you, or bring harm to you even though he is dead.” She scooted forward in her seat and touched Sara’s knee. “In time you will acknowledge his death and accept the reality that he can no longer hurt you.”
Sara shook her head, as if she had been in a trance. “Oh, yeah,” she finally answered. “I know he will never hurt me again.”
forty-two
Mike watched Carol Iverson as she checked her makeup, patiently waiting for him to arrive for their lunch date at the Bookend Café in Boulder. He knew why she wanted to meet. Her husband had returned from the “dead” and she wanted to make sure he knew that there would never be a future for them. He had been avoiding this meeting for three months now. Somehow, that slight hope that she might still love him kept a tiny flame burning in his heart. Yes, he had taken Jean back, and they were working hard, seeing a marriage counselor once a week to save their tattered marriage. They had placed their bets on the solitary affinity they shared; Sara. The joy of having their only child home, alive and relatively healthy, sustained them…for now. Mike didn’t hold out much hope for the marriage after fal
l classes began at the University of Wyoming. Sara was already packing her belongings up for another attempt at her freshman year.
Carol turned and spotted him staring from a distance. She looked confused at first, then sad. She painted a beautiful smile across her face and waved Mike over.
“Okay,” Mike said to himself. “Stop acting like an awkward teenage boy and face this like an adult.”
“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up,” Carol paused. “Again.”
Mike blushed. “I’m really sorry about that,” he said, taking a seat. “I was called out for a drug raid in the county that night.” He didn’t like lying to Carol, but he figured that after this lunch he would probably never lay eyes on her again.
“That’s what you said.” Carol looked at Mike seriously. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Mike stammered, “Oh, yeah, of course.” He looked at his watch. “I’m just a little pressed for time,” he lied again. Dammit!
“Mike, I haven’t seen you since Sara came home. I’ve tried to call you, I’ve sent letters, I even waited outside your work one night hoping to congratulate you. What’s going on?” she asked with concern.
Mike took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “How is your husband?”
Carol’s jaw dropped slightly and she leaned back in her chair. “He is as well as can be expected,” she finally said.
