Sara (22 page)

thirty-eight

Mike Haller moved slowly up the trail toward the quarry. Sounds of the forest seemed to rise in a cacophony, urging him forward. He broke through the trees into a flattened area, timber bulldozed and bare earth pushed aside to expose any riches that might lay hidden underneath. Mike was drawn to a small mattress pushed aside a shallow excavation. He prepared himself for the discovery of his daughter’s remains and exhaled loudly when he realized the grave was empty, except for a muddy sandal. Sara’s sandal.

             
Mike lifted the shoe and held it to his chest as his heart pounded. He grasped that he was standing amidst a crime scene that in all probability would consummate his worst nightmare; Sara was dead. He surveyed the quarry and listened carefully for any sounds of the two men he knew were near. Nothing. The forest had grown silent.

             
Mike adjusted the handgun tucked into his jeans and started for a trail on the eastern edge of the quarry.

             
“It is unfortunate, Deputy Haller, that you would find yourself at this location.” Sheriff Barnes stepped from the tree-line not ten yards away. “I thought I was pretty clear when I ordered you to leave my county.”

             
Mike inched forward and circled Barnes a bit to better silhouette him against the treeless quarry. “Where is she, Barnes?” he asked. “Give Sara to me now and let’s put an end to this.”

             
Barnes chuckled and unsnapped his holster. “Oh, this ends today. There is no doubt about that. This whole God forsaken mess ends here, today.”

             
Mike stopped. Less than twenty feet separated him and the man he wanted to murder. Judging from the bulk beneath his shirt, the sheriff was wearing an armored vest. This left only one shot for Mike to take.

             
“What is that you are holding, Mr. Haller?”

             
Mike switched Sara’s muddy sandal to his left hand and held it up for Barnes to see. “My daughter’s shoe,” he said. “I wouldn’t think that you would be so careless as to leave evidence at a crime scene.”

             
Sheriff Barnes chuckled again and shook his head. “That’s why I am here, Mike, to clean up. You should at least find comfort in that you and your daughter will share your final resting place.” Barnes removed his pistol and motioned to Mike. “Toss that shoe here.”

             
Mike threw the sandal to Barnes, and in one fluid motion retrieved the pistol from the small of his back and shot Sheriff Hunter Barnes through the forehead. The .32 caliber round made a small hole just above Barnes’s left eye and exited behind his right ear, taking much of the sheriff’s brain with it.

             
Mike stood with Trina’s pistol still aimed at the sheriff’s dead body. “I told you that if we tangled again, one of us would be going home in a body bag.”

Mike move
d up the trail, pistol in hand, listening carefully for any sound of Jordan Barnes. At one point, he heard a twig snap deep in the trees to his right. He knelt to the ground and watched intently. When no movement or sound repeated, he moved on. He wasn’t sure what pulled him in the direction he was going. Something tightened in his stomach. Once again, he was unsure whether he was in the right place or not. Hesitance threatened to prevent him from moving forward. Was this his gut instinct telling him to pursue a different path? Or was this a subconscious impetus trying to protect him from what he might find?

             
He moved again, up the trail. Silent. Vigilant. Painfully aware of every creak of a tree branch, every flutter of a Nuthatch wing, and
there
! He saw it. Movement in a small clearing just thirty yards ahead. And then he heard it. A blood curdling scream from Sara.

thirty-nine

Sara woke with a blinding headache. She lay face down among the pine needles and wild strawberries. Nothing would focus for her and the realization of her predicament quickly flooded her senses. She sat up and pulled her left arm to her chest and cradled it. The tow truck driver stood over her with a cantaloupe sized rock in his hands. She knew this was it. She had lost her will to fight. She had no strength left to resist. Sara watched as Jordan raised the rock above his head, and with her last bit of tenacity, she screamed.

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.