Twisted Retribution

by Donna Arp Weitzman

  “Her mother said it was a drug overdose.”

  “Olivia, did you know Cynthia was taking drugs?”

  “No,” Olivia said a little too quickly and looked away, appearing pale and shaken.

  Sarah didn’t believe her, but she knew better than to question Olivia more in front of Pete. No reason to agitate Pete, she reminded herself, and let her suspicions drop.

  “Has Mrs. Stevens contacted the police?” Sarah asked.

  Pete mocked, “Oh yeah, that’s right, Miss Important. Miss Annie Oakley needs to make sure the law is involved. That’s all you think about, meddling in other people’s business.”

  Sarah smelled trouble from Pete, so she walked inside the house, letting the conversation die. She decided the best course of action was to make sure Pete’s dinner was on the table. Then she’d call Mrs. Stevens and ask how she could help, including making sure the proper authorities were notified.

  After supper Sarah picked up the phone and called Cynthia’s mother.

  “Delores,” Sarah began when Delores Stevens answered the phone, “this is Sarah Sears, Olivia’s mother.”

  Mrs. Stevens mumbled something unintelligible, obviously grieved.

  “I’m so sorry to hear about Cynthia,” Sarah continued. “Is there anything I can do?”

  A long pause ensued before Mrs. Stevens answered Sarah. “Yes, you can do something. Don’t you work for the police?”

  “The sheriff’s department,” Sarah replied.

  “Can you find out who was giving her drugs? They killed my baby girl.” The distraught mother began to cry.

  A lump instantly formed in Sarah’s throat, making it difficult to answer Cynthia’s mother. “I will sure try,” she assured Delores. Sarah took a few more minutes with the mother to get her statement on record. Delores explained that she did not want an autopsy performed.

  “Reverend Thomas is doing the funeral on Saturday,” Delores added before hanging up the phone.

  Pete grunted and pushed his chair across the kitchen floor. “Come clean up this mess, Inspector Clouseau. You know our deal.”

  Sarah began putting dishes in the sink. She loved her job and needed to keep Pete as calm as she could to keep it.

  “I got stuff to do upstairs,” Pete said and left the kitchen.

  “Good night,” Sarah offered. Pete didn’t answer.

  Suddenly Sarah felt odd, almost as if a trance was overtaking her. She remembered every detail of killing those two thugs—tying them to the bedpost, aiming the gun, and pulling the trigger. As she recalled how the blood spurted from their bodies, she felt strangely satisfied. Sarah Sears loved justice and was happy she alone could administer it.

  As she got ready for bed, her mind moved to Cynthia. So young, pretty, and vivacious—how could the devil get to this innocent girl, hooking her on drugs and rendering her helpless? Sarah imagined some bastard offering pills to Cynthia and the poor girl wanting to please him and not hurt his feelings. This person deserved to die. Sarah would hunt him down and kill him just as he killed Cynthia Stevens. An eye for an eye.

  Sarah slept fitfully, waking around 2:00 in the morning with the sensation of hot blood running through her hair. She imagined Jake and Clem’s faces as no longer part of their bodies. Sarah could only see blood running off their shattered pelvises. She realized she had been dreaming. It wasn’t a nightmare, just a dream, because she and God had a pact. She would be his instrument to fight the devil and help win God’s war against evil.

  Now acutely aware of her next mission, Sarah planned how she would find the drug dealer and kill him. This work had to be done to save more girls like Cynthia and maybe even Olivia one day.

  She would begin her search in a few hours. Sleep eluded her the rest of the night, and dawn brought renewed faith that Sarah was the one for the job. God had planned Sarah’s life, and she was fulfilling it.

  ***

  After putting Pete’s breakfast in the skillet to cook, Sarah dressed hurriedly and returned to the kitchen. Sarah spooned out scrambled eggs and placed three pieces of bacon on his plate. Suddenly she realized his toast was not ready.

  “I’m sorry,” she addressed him. “I’ll get your toast in a second.”

  “A second, a minute later…it’s always an excuse with you, bitch,” Pete said. He was seething at this offense.

  Sarah leaned over the counter to take bread out of the toaster oven when Pete suddenly grabbed her from behind and pushed her forward. He pulled down her work pants and her panties, unzipping his jeans. Without a word, he started thrusting her from the back, ramming her head into the wooden cabinet door. Sarah was quiet, taking his abuse. Pete was gratified to realize that he still controlled his wife.

  Afterward, he sat back down in front of his plate as if nothing had happened. Sarah put his toast on the napkin beside him and hurried upstairs.

  “Dear God, please use your power to make Pete a kinder husband,” she prayed. She washed up, smoothed her wrinkled clothes, and rushed out the door. Sarah had a job to do: find a murderer who dealt drugs. He would die before he killed other innocent little girls.

  Sarah headed back to the office and walked in to find Ruby talking on the phone.

  “Okay, Darrel,” Ruby said, seeming nervous. “I’ll have your office all cleaned up by then.”

  “What’s happening?” Sarah asked.

  “The sheriff’s coming here tomorrow and meeting Darrel, who is all pissed off because he has to be here at 8:00,” Ruby explained.

  “I’ll make sure we are all here, also,” Sarah said. Sarah was always a bit anxious when the sheriff was around. She wanted to impress Sheriff Will so much.

  With another quiet, uneventful night behind her, Sarah hurried to the office the next day. The county sheriff was always on time, and Sarah wanted to be early.

  Sheriff Will pulled in beside Sarah’s unmarked patrol car, hurriedly exiting his black sedan.

  “Morning, Sarah,” he said. Will pulled down his sunglasses. “How do you like your job?”

  Why was he asking that? Sarah did not know. “I really like it, sir,” she said.

  “Good. It’s important to like your work,” the sheriff said and went inside. He made his way to Darrel’s office and sat down in a chair in front of his desk. Darrel was conspicuously absent. Ruby and Zach were both stationed at their desks when Sarah walked in. Everyone was focused on Sheriff Will.

  Darrel bounded in the front door a few minutes after eight o’clock, breathless from hurrying. He grabbed a mug and some coffee from the office machine, then offered the sheriff a cup.

  “Ruby makes great coffee, Will,” Darrel said.

  “No thanks,” Will said and scowled. “This won’t take but a minute.” He closed Darrel’s door.

  Less than ten minutes later, both men walked out of the office. Darrel went outside without looking at anyone or saying a word. The lanky sheriff looked relieved and draped himself over Ruby’s desk in sight of his three remaining county employees. “Darrel is leaving the department,” he explained. “I don’t have any budget money to replace him. But hell, our crimes are mostly petty anyway.” He paused. “Sarah, I’m making you the county investigator. No raise and no help. Can you do it?”

  It was Sarah’s turn to be breathless. Stammering, Sarah answered, “I’ll sure try, sir. I’d love to try.”

  Will’s face contorted into a frown. “The county investigator isn’t about love. It’s about finding criminals, Sarah,” he said.

  Sarah stopped smiling. “I understand that, sir,” she said quietly.

  Will was still scowling. “You move into Darrel’s office,” he said. Addressing Zach, he said, “Pretty Boy, you can move into Sarah’s old spot. Ruby, Pretty Boy can help you and Sarah. We gotta stretch this office. I don’t have any more money to hire anyone. Does everyone understand?”

  Sarah, Zach, and Ruby all shook their heads, agreeing in unison.

  “Well, let’s all get busy,” Will instructed. “And call
me if you need anything. Ruby, pack up Darrel’s stuff. Sarah, go through the files. Hell, there’s probably open cases none of us knows about.”

  Sheriff Will Townsend was in total control, and his smile returned as he left the room. Everyone had their orders.

  The atmosphere was hushed as the three went about their duties—Ruby packing up Darrel’s office, Sarah going through his files, and Zach doing all the other morning tasks. No one asked a question or said anything to each other, seemingly frightened at the thought that Sheriff Will might hear them from wherever he was working.

  But Sarah’s mind was racing quietly. The official Montague County Sheriff Department Investigator…Sarah could hardly believe she had the job. Her heart was pounding, and she promised herself to catch every criminal. No one would escape Sarah Sears. Women would thank her, children would grow up safely, and men would fear her. Sarah, for the first time in her life, was in charge. “Thank you, God!” she prayed.

  ***

  Sarah was excited but afraid to mention another promotion to Pete. Within a short time at the sheriff’s department, Sarah had been promoted three times, and she was convinced her God worked in mysterious ways. Somehow she’d endure Pete’s wrath when he found out the news and possibly even escape his brutality. She hoped Olivia would one day be proud of her mother.

  The remainder of the day was quiet with the three employees settling into their new roles. Ruby dialed every neighbor she knew to tell them of the department upheaval. No more Darrel. Sarah Sears was now in charge. And a homosexual was the acting assistant investigator.

  “A senior citizen working with a fag and a woman,” she exclaimed into the phone. Ruby was a little worried what folks would think of this set up, but she amused herself with people’s opinions.

  Nocona was quiet lately, and Bowie, the little town to the south, only produced a couple of drunks last evening. Sarah often read old unsolved cases in her office on a slow crime day like this one. A label marked “serial” caught Sarah’s eye on one of the files she was reading. Flipping open what appeared to be a freshly marked record, she was quickly interested in the many pages contained within. Henry Lee Lucas was the name at the top of most of the papers. Sarah read quickly but thoroughly. Lucas was a suspect in the killings of several women, but he had not been charged at the time Darrel noted the file.

  The folder was missing any photos or identification of the suspect. The brief instructions issued by the state were to be “on alert” for his man. He was a scheming drifter and perilously dangerous. Sarah began reading more case notes about Lucas. She didn’t know it then, but he was someone who would come to be known as Texas’ most wanted criminal. Suspected of rape, murder, cannibalism, and theft, Henry Lee Lucas was the worst of the worst.

  She was not surprised that Darrel had ignored this case. This was not a man to tangle with. The latest notice in the file read that Lucas was suspected of being in the Montague County vicinity, probably hid out in an abandoned building or along Red River where Sarah had been raped by thugs who were now rotting somewhere in a cemetery covered by muddy Texas red clay. They would never rape another woman or child. Sarah had done God’s work.

  Laying the Lucas file to the side, she read the other shorter files Darrel had ignored. Petty thieves, drug offenses, and even a suspected child abuser and child molester. “Tomorrow I’ll focus on this last one,” she thought. There could be no more crimes against women and children in Montague County.

  Locking her office door and preparing to leave for the day, Zach asked why she had locked her office. Did Sarah already have secrets unavailable to him or Ruby?

  “Just precautions,” Sarah answered dryly. “Zach, tomorrow I want to pick your brain.”

  Zach smiled, glad to be in her good graces again. “Guess I better not smoke pot tonight or get drunk,” he joked. “You’re gonna be a tough boss.”

  ***

  Pulling in the driveway of her home, Sarah was edgy. She needed to tell Pete about the office changes before the local newspaper ran a story. Changes in law enforcement always made headlines, as these things affected every resident for better or worse.

  Pete hated surprises, so she decided to deliver the news right away. Maybe he would be hungry and want to eat more than he’d want to rough up his wife. Assuming he was upstairs, Sarah quietly climbed the staircase and stood in his office doorway.

  “It’s about time you’re home. I’m ready to eat,” he complained, quickly shoving a magazine he’d been looking at under some papers on his desk. Sarah thought for a moment that she’d seen two naked women on a page in the magazine. She quickly looked away.

  Pete seemed flustered and yelled, “Get the hell downstairs and get me something to eat, bitch. What are you doing up here anyway?”

  Pete Sears was mad, and Sarah was the target. Her familiar “fight or flight” instinct kicked in, and she hurried to the kitchen. The pork chops left over from the night before might do, but not by themselves. She thought she should make him a fresh baked potato and warm up the apple pie from Sunday. Sarah’s meals could never look haphazardly prepared. She’d be punished.

  While the potato was baking, Sarah attempted to rouse Olivia from her afternoon nap and turned the doorknob to her bedroom. Trying to open the door, Sarah heard Olivia shout, “It’s locked. What do you want?”

  “Come to supper,” her mother said cheerfully.

  “I’m not hungry,” Olivia said sharply.

  This brief conversation ended the nightly exchange between mother and daughter. Sarah knew better than to beg, so she left Olivia alone.

  When supper was ready, Pete came downstairs. The kitchen chair screeched as he slid it back from the table. Sarah quickly spooned his servings and asked what toppings he wanted for his potato.

  “Leftovers,” Pete grumbled and stared at the pork chops. “That damned job of yours is ruining our lives.”

  Maybe tonight was a bad time to announce Sarah’s promotion. If her husband didn’t dole out physical punishment, he’d likely make fun of her news and then demand to know how much more money she’d make. Pete’s repertoire of three types of abuse—physical, mental or emotional—was exhausting.

  Sarah bit her lip, remembering her relationship with Jesus Christ. Why didn’t God step in? It was not for her to know.

  “You’d better tell him,” a little voice in her mind said.

  “Darrel got fired today, and Sherriff Will Townsend asked me to fill in for him.”

  “What?” Pete asked, staring at his wife.

  “I’m going to fill in for Darrel’s job.”

  “What does that mean?” Pete stared harder, his steely gaze narrowing.

  “I’ll be the chief investigator for a while?” Sarah answered his question with a question.

  Pete’s anger was rising, but he attempted to hide his surprise. His stupid wife was the county sheriff’s chief investigator?

  “Are they fucking crazy down there?” he exploded. “A woman investigator? Townsend must have gone fucking crazy.”

  Sarah kept her eyes off Pete.

  Picking up the steak knife beside his plate, Pete sloppily sawed at his pork chop and then stuck the knife holding the bite in his mouth. Sarah had an overwhelming desire to grab the knife and plunge it down his throat. She wanted Pete Sears’ blood to gush through his neck, and she relished the idea of hearing his animalistic gurgle while he choked on the pig.

  “Dear God, I must stop thinking this way!” Sarah caught herself. Walking to the sink, she anticipated feeling a blow from Pete’s hand against her body. He liked to call it a “bitch slap.” But he sat in silence, tearing bite-sized pieces of the chop and eating them off the end of the knife.

  No more words passed between the spouses for the rest of the evening. Sarah lived two lives: a battered woman in her own household, and an efficient protector of other women in their homes.

  Sleep was difficult, and Sarah’s dreams became disturbing. She woke abruptly thinking she was sleeping be
side Henry Lee Lucas. In her dream, Pete’s face had become the face of a rapist, murderer, thief, cannibal. Sarah vowed she would find this animal Lucas and kill him. He must die just like the others. If her neighboring counties had lazy law enforcement and allowed killers to run loose, Montague County would draw the line. Sarah would hunt him down, slit his throat, and castrate him. Lucas would no longer hurt anybody. Instead, he’d be the one hurting.

  Sarah’s second day as chief investigator was her first day to begin the hunt for the notorious criminal. She was not afraid. God was her sidekick.

  ***

  “Morning boss,” Zach said cheerfully when Sarah entered the office the next morning. Ruby was on the phone chatting as usual and smoking her Virginia Slims.

  Sarah’s extension rang non-stop the rest of the day as neighboring police congratulated her on her promotion. She politely accepted their messages and vowed to help them in any way she could. Sarah would be a team player. Her goal was simple: never let a criminal escape. Killing the bastards was the surest way to protect her neighbors.

  A late afternoon call from the Cooke County police asked for the Montague County department to be on the watch for a white pick-up traveling through the area. Two men from Dallas were wanted for drugs and a rural bank robbery. They were last seen driving in the northern Texas counties.

  Sarah was anxious to track these two, but the clock striking five prevented any further activity that day. She was on high alert, anticipating her husband’s unpredictable behavior. Pete Sears could get nasty this evening, so she prayed for her safety while driving home and saved making plans to catch criminals for bedtime.

  Dinner slipped by without incidence. Pete ate in silent rage, and Olivia sailed through the kitchen, grabbing a chicken leg on her way to church. Sarah was proud of her daughter and wished they had a strong mother-daughter bond like the one they’d shared years before. Olivia’s teenage years changed her. She had no tolerance for her mother’s maternal instincts anymore. Sarah prayed for the sweet Olivia to return once she grew out of adolescence.