Sara (20 page)

thirty-three

Sara Jean Haller crouched low in a thicket of huckleberry and tried unsuccessfully to stop her body from trembling. The night’s cold seeped deep into her core and the fear she felt threatened to trigger another flight response, sending her crashing through the forest straight into the hands of her antagonists. Her left arm was now useless. The splint had vanished shortly after her collision with Pop back at the cabin, and the bones were now completely separated, causing great discomfort. Her feet were bloody and bruised and the knife wound under her right breast had reopened and was now bleeding profusely. She wanted to scream out for help, but she knew that the only ones who would hear her, were the two men trying to murder her.

             
Twigs broke and Sara froze in place. Movement caught her eye as a man stepped into a narrow clearing to her right. The moon slipped from behind a small cloud and illuminated the man’s features. He was large, like Pop, but carried himself with a little more confidence. A bit taller. When the man turned, Sara saw the Sheriff’s uniform and was ready to leap from the bushes with joy.

             
“Jordan!” the man yelled.

             
Sara drew back, horrified that this police officer had just called out the name of her attacker. She used her free hand to cover her own mouth to keep the cries from escaping. Tears fell from her cheeks.

             
“Jordan! Have you found her yet?” The lawman turned at the sound of more twigs breaking. Jordan and Pop entered the clearing.

             
Jordan answered timidly. “Not yet, sir. We lost her blood trail about a quarter mile back.”

             
Pop seemed angry. “What are you doing here, Hunter?”

             
The man in uniform stepped close to Pop. “I am cleaning up another one of your damn messes, Gary.” The men went nose to nose. “You brought my son into your sick world and now this whole fucking thing is going to fall on our heads like a ton of bricks.”

             
“Please watch your language, Sheriff Barnes,” Pop said. “The Lord frowns on such vulgar language.”

             
Sheriff Barnes seemed incensed. “And what does the Lord think about you killing young women, Pastor Popineau? Does He frown on rape and murder as well?”

             
“The Lord speaks to us in strange ways, Hunter,” Popineau said. “After you and I and Connie had our way with that little girl in Castle Rock the night of our game, the Lord showed me my calling.” Popineau stepped back and raised his hands to the sky. “Do you remember the stories of that girl’s family? They found Jesus after their daughter disappeared. Through adversity, man finds God!” he yelled. Popineau stepped to Barnes and placed his hands on the Sheriff’s shoulders. “You and Connie and I saved that family. We were merely a tool of Jesus. Don’t you realize this, Hunter?”

             
Sheriff Barnes pulled away. “I realize that you are out of control, Gary,” Barnes seethed. “I should have put an end to this when I discovered you trying to sell that boy’s Toyota pickup for scrap.”

             
“But you didn’t!” Popineau yelled. “You didn’t, because when Pastor Gary falls, so falls the almighty Sheriff Barnes. And now, your step-son falls too. Don’t you see?” Popineau raised his arms to the sky again. “It is all God’s glorious plan.”

             
Sara struggled to contain her horror. Her legs had gone numb from squatting so long and it was all she could do to maintain her balance. Jordan had walked away from the men and was now standing directly in front of her. His eyes were wandering over the trees behind her. Sara looked to the ground, fearing that staring at Jordan would somehow cause him to look at her.

             
“When this is over, Gary, I want you to leave Ranch Springs.”

             
“Or what?” Popineau laughed.

             
Sheriff Barnes pulled his weapon and pointed it directly at Pop’s face, “Or I will kill you where you stand. Are we clear?”

             
Pastor Gary deflated. “Of course, Hunter. I should have expected that. Let’s find this girl, and then you and I will talk about the future.”

             
Jordan turned and finally spoke. “The girl’s note said that she was going to walk north to Highway Fourteen and flag down a car.”

             
Pop laughed. “Well, she ran the wrong direction then. Let’s go back to the cabin and come up with a plan to track her down before morning.”

             
Sara watched as the men moved out of the clearing and headed back the way they came. After fifteen minutes of silence, her legs finally gave out and she fell to the ground crying.

thirty-four

“Do you remember when grandpa died?”

             
“Of course I remember. You were four years old and you were the star that lit his sky. Do you really remember him?”

             
Sara giggled. “Grandpa would sing me to sleep when you had to work nights. And we built forts out of couch cushions and he would always find me when we played hide-and-seek.”

             
“I’m surprised that you remember him. You were so little when he passed away.”

             
“Were you angry with grandpa when he died?”

             
“No, no. I was never angry with him. I was sad. My heart ached for years after he passed, but I never once felt anything but love for him.”

             
“You won’t be angry when I die?”

             
“Sara, sweetie, don’t talk like that. You have your whole life ahead of you.”

             
“Promise that you will only feel love for me?”

             
“Sara, no, please stop this. I am going to find you. You are going to be okay. I am going to find you. Please don’t say things like that.”

             
“Your phone is ringing.”

             
“I won’t answer it. Just stay with me. Everything will be okay.”

             
“Don’t be angry with me.”

             
“Sara.”

             
Mike rolled over in bed and fumbled with the items on the night stand. His cell phone stopped ringing just as he knocked it to the floor. “Dammit!” He looked at the small clock radio; 3:30am. “Dammit!” he said again as he tried to focus his eyes to read who had called. “Area code 602. Who the hell could that be?” he asked himself as the phone began ringing again.

             
Mike turned on a bedside lamp and answered, “Hello!” he said angrily. The fading dream had troubled him deeply.

             
“Mike, this is Harry. Pull your ass out of bed, it’s time to go to work.”

             
Mike sat up. Fully awake now, he asked, “Did you get any information for me, Harry?”

             
“Oh yes,” Harry said. “That little fucker is lying to you. Do you have a map?”

             
Mike jumped out of bed. “Yes,” he said. Scrambling to unfold a topographical map he had purchased at the mall in Ft. Collins, he demanded, “Tell me what you have.”

             
“Okay,” Harry said. “The tow truck sat idle in Ranch Springs from 11:45am until 2:42pm at the corner of Highway 287 and Ranch Springs Road.”

             
Mike was writing furiously. “That is the only restaurant in town. Jordan told the sheriff that he was busy at the impound yard until after 4:00pm.”

             
Harry snickered, “Like I said, the little fucker is lying. At 2:42pm, the vehicle moved north on Highway 287 for about three miles where it sat idle for twenty-three minutes.”

             
Mike continued writing. “I knew it!” he seethed. “Sara was three miles north of Ranch Springs when she called for help.” Mike pounded on the end table with his fist. “There were no redneck boys from Larimer County. Connie Lohr was lying. Everyone in this town has been lying.”

             
Harry Pennington cautioned, “Settle down, Mike. Get your wits about you. You’re going to need them.”

             
Mike took a deep breath and sat on the edge of the bed, then stood again. “You’re right. I’m calm. What else do you have?”

             
“At 3:09pm the truck moved south on Highway 287, then turned west on Ranch Springs Road. It traveled about one-and-a-half miles west where it stopped for eleven minutes.”

             
Mike held his forehead. “That would be the impound yard. Would eleven minutes be enough time to park and unhook Sara’s car from the truck?”

             
Harry answered, “For a young man who is highly motivated to get away from a populated area, I would say eleven minutes probably felt like a lifetime.”

             
Mike sat on the bed again. Everything he had suspected was correct. His gut instincts were right. Jordan Barnes took his daughter. “Give me the rest, Harry.”

             
“Okay,” Harry continued. “At 3:26pm, the truck moved west on Ranch Springs Road for six miles then turned north onto County Road 37. The truck continued north for about three miles and stopped for almost three hours.”

             
Mike pounded the table again. “He took Sara to that filthy trailer. I am going to cut his fucking heart out.”

             
“Mike,” Harry said calmly. “You need to stow that anger away for later. Right now, your daughter needs you to be cool and collected.”

             
“I know, I know,” Mike said. “You’re right. You said the truck was at the trailer for three hours; where did he go after that?”

             
“This is where your map becomes necessary. Are you ready?”

             
“Yes, yes, dammit, I’m ready.”

             
“Okay, find Highway 14, just south of Ranch Springs, and follow it west to a little town named Rustic.”

             
Mike followed the highway with his finger and stopped on the small town. “Got it,” he said.

             
“Now, south of Rustic about ten miles, you will find a jeep trail named Flowers Road.”

             
Mike searched for the trail. He found it in a dark green patch which indicated a densely forested area. “Okay. Flowers Road. I see it.”

             
“At 7:16pm, the truck traveled seven miles east on that jeep trail at a rate of five to ten miles per hour. It must be a terrible road. Then, the truck stopped for two hours before returning to Ranch Springs at 12:34am the next morning.”

             
Mike stood and tapped his finger on the map. “My map shows a quartz quarry at that location. Is that what you are seeing?”

             
“That’s what my map says also,” Harry agreed. “Now, I arrive in Denver at 7:00am and I can meet you in Rustic around ten.”

             
Mike shook his head. “This will all be over by then, Harry.”

             
“Mike,” Harry said quietly. “Don’t lose hope. Your daughter may very well still be alive. I would be there sooner, but I have a very important package to deliver to my niece, Carol.”

             
Mike smiled briefly. “Yes, she told me you were bringing Taylor home from Phoenix.”

             
Harry paused for a long moment. “Taylor and his father are coming home with me.”

             
Mike stood still, then shook his head. “Taylor’s father?” he asked.

             
Harry laughed. “Yes, Mike. I found Jim Iverson alive in a Mexican prison and I’m bringing him home to Carol.”

             
Mike couldn’t respond.

             
“Miracles can happen, Mike. Don’t give up hope.”

Mike banged on Brian and Trina’s bedroom door. “I need to borrow your Jeep,”
he said quickly after Brian opened the door. “I know where my daughter is and I need a four wheel drive vehicle to get there.”

             
Brian was confused, shaken from a sound sleep. Trina Lang appeared behind her husband with a set of keys. “Take it, Mr. Haller. I just filled the tank with gas.”

             
Mike took the keys and sprinted for the front door. Trina Lang hollered after him, “Do you need us to call the sheriff?”

             
Mike yelled back before leaving the house, “No! Don’t call a single soul. Please.”

             
Mike hurried to the Jeep Wrangler and climbed in. He could be at the quarry by first light if he hurried.