Sara (14 page)

             
“Or,” Watts offered, “they’re buried under some guy’s shed,” he pushed the stack of folders across the table so they spread out, “next to twenty-four others.”

             
Sheriff Barnes face turned hard. “Son,” he said, “you need to stop watching CSI Miami and start doing what you are being paid to do; catching drunk drivers and handing out citations for barking dogs.”

             
“Yes, sir,” was his only reply. Deputy Ryan Watts decided that he was not yet ready to take on Sheriff Hunter Barnes.

             
Sheriff Barnes stood. “Get these files put back where they belong and go home. I need you to report for duty tomorrow morning. A bunch of civilians and the press are showing up at noon to search for the Haller girl. We need to put on a good show for them.”

             
Ryan looked up. “Is that what we’re doing, sir? Putting on a ‘good show’?”

             
Sheriff Barnes carefully placed the brown felt cowboy hat back on his head. “Deputy,” he said, “you are beginning to give me a headache. I will piss your career right down the drain if you cross me.”

             
“Yes, sir,” Watts said.

twenty-three

Mike Haller stood quietly on the shoulder of Colorado Highway 287 at mile marker 369 and absent mindedly kicked at a rusted muffler that had fallen from someone’s vehicle.

There was more than enough room for a car to pull off if needed and Mike was fairly certain that this was where Sara had called for a tow truck before she had disappeared.
He wasn’t sure what he would find here, but he wanted to get a good look before a hundred volunteers erased any possible evidence with their shuffling feet.

Mike walked along the shoulder and knelt at a place where a vehicle with a flat tire cut grooves through the soft clay and prairie grass.
The furrow from the wheel looked to be about seven inches wide; about what the front wheel of Sara’s Honda would measure. Mike stood and stepped back, trying to picture how her car would have sat. He walked to where the driver’s door would have been, kneeled again and searched the earth for clues. Nothing seemed to pop out at him. On hands and knees, Mike began to circle what he thought would have been the perimeter of the Honda. At the “front”, he could make out deep gashes and lots of foot traffic. This was obviously where Jordan would have placed the yoke for the wheel lift to raise the front of the Honda off the ground.

Continuing around the perimeter, Mike finally stood when he came to a patch of p
rickly pear cactus. Brushing dirt from his knees, he caught a glint of silver in the dirt ahead of him. It was the charm bracelet he had bought for Sara for graduation. He picked it up and cupped the silver hearts in his hand. The clasp was broken and some of the charms were missing. Mike looked around. Spotting two of the missing hearts, he picked them up and rubbed away the dust with his thumb. One was engraved,
We Love You
, and the other said,
Squeaky
. Mike clenched his fist tight and held the bracelet to his lips. His heart pounded, trying desperately to escape the confines of his chest. The broken and scattered charms strongly suggested that Sara had been taken forcefully from this location. That fit Sheriff Barnes’ theory of the two young men from Larimer County being responsible.

Mike held the bracelet close and thought
out loud, “Sara would not have gotten out of her car for two unknown men. She would have only gotten out for a tow truck driver…” Mike chewed the inside of his lip, “…or a police officer.”

The black Ford tow truck
and three other cars sat out front of the grocery store/restaurant/gas station in Ranch Springs. Mike pulled in and waited in his car for a minute. He wrote down the license plate number to the truck then got out and walked around to the driver’s side. An empty cardboard box sat near the front bumper with a sign on it that read,
Free Kittens
. Mike peeked inside and saw nothing but an empty wool blanket. Glancing around the parking lot to make sure no one was watching, he opened the driver’s door to the truck and found the VIN number on the door post. Mike quickly jotted down the seventeen digit number before closing the door silently. He wasn’t sure what information he would need to access the GPS records for the truck, so he decided to get everything he could.

Mike walked through the front door of the store and stood for a moment to take in the environment. Smells of bacon, fried burger, and coffee filled his senses as he inhaled deeply. He could hear quiet conversation coming from the back tables, so he walked to the counter and glanced into the small restaurant at the back of the store. Jordan Barnes and Duncan Winter sat at
one table eating their lunch. Mr. Winter was listening intently to Pastor Gary Popineau who sat at an adjoining table.

“I have
a strong fear that this ‘government of change’ is doing everything in its power to bring down our country,” Popineau said. “And when the Lord rains brimstone and fire on this nation and all the inhabitants of the cities and that which grows upon the ground, it will be left to the church to deliver Lot from the ashes of Sodom back into the arms of Jesus.”

Duncan Winter took a sip of coffee and nodded his head. “I truly believe we have lost our way, Pastor Gary.”

Mike looked at Jordan sitting sideways in a chair with his back to the wall. It looked as if he had tuned the world out while he slowly shredded a paper napkin and dropped the pieces to the floor.

“Are you here to eat,
hun?”

Mike looked over to see the woman he had spoken to when he first arrived in Ranch Springs on Thursday. Startled for a moment, he stuttered a bit. “Oh,
ahh….” He looked to the three men in the restaurant who were now focusing intently on him. “I’ll have a cheeseburger and some coffee, please.”

“Well,” the woman headed for the kitchen, “find
a place to sit and I’ll be back with your coffee.”

Mike walked into the small dining room and looked at Mr. Winter. “Do you gentlemen mind if I join you?” he asked.

Duncan Winter looked at Jordan, then back to Mike. “Only if you promise there will be no trouble, Mr. Haller.”

Mike slid out a chair across the table from Jordan and took a seat. Smiling slightly, he said, “No sir. I have learned my lesson about making a scene in this town.”

Pastor Gary studied Mike’s face with concern. “Did Hunter Barnes do that to your face, son?”

Mike fingered the butterfly bandage across the bridge of his nose
. “I probably had it coming, Pastor Gary.” He looked across the table to see Jordan Barnes smiling at him.

“It is obvious to me,” the pas
tor said, “that you are a man in serious distress over the loss of your daughter. I find it very disturbing that Sheriff Barnes would raise his hand to a man who carries such a heavy burden. Hunter has a terrible temper. In high school, we called him, ‘Goliath’.” The Reverend looked over to Duncan and smiled, “Hunter Barnes was a beast on the football field, wasn’t he? He marched us to State victories three years in a row.”

Duncan Winter looked relieved when
the woman arrived with a coffee pot. “Mr. Haller, have you met my wife?” he asked.

“Your wife?”
Mike asked. “No. I mean, we’ve talked, but I didn’t know you were married.”

“Virginia, this is Mike Haller from Eagle, Colorado. Mr. Haller, this is my wife, Virginia. She runs this place for her father who lives in the house out back.”

Virginia Winter regarded Mike coolly. “Mister, this is a small town and we don’t care much for strangers who show up and start throwing accusations around.”

Duncan looked embarrassed. “It was just a misunderstanding, honey.” Turning to Mike he continued, “Virginia and my sister are best friends, so she’s a little protective of Rose’s little boy.”

“You lay a hand on him in my store and you’ll have more than two black eyes and a puffy nose to deal with,” Virginia warned.

Pastor Gary chuckled. “Dearest Virginia, would you please bring me a piece of that pecan pie you got on the counter?
And put some ice cream on top, a big scoop, please?”

Duncan’s wife walked away and left the men in an uncomfortable silence. Finally, Mr. Winter spoke. “I’m sorry about that Mr. Haller. I hope you won’t take any offense.”

Mike smiled thinly. “No, not at all,” he said.

Pastor Gary turned in his chair a bit to get a better look at Mike.
“I understand that there will be a search for your daughter sometime tomorrow?”

Mike cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said. “My wife and some university students are organizing it. They are starting at noon
at the Community Center here in Ranch Springs.”

“That’s very considerate of people to do that. I would like to ask my congregation to join the search after our services tomorrow morning if that is agreeable with you?”

Mike nodded. “I think that could prove very helpful, sir.”

Pastor Gary smiled
when Virginia brought his pie. “We were just discussing, Mr. Haller, how sinful this nation has become. We have fallen from the righteous path that God has set before us. Men marrying men---stores opening up in our own back yards selling legalized marijuana and Lord only knows what else---our own leaders committing sodomy and infidelity---drive-thru abortions---an education system that bleaches God himself from the bones of our children. I do believe we are witnessing the end of times.”

Mike added sugar and creamer to his coffee and stirred. “I would be hard pressed to argue with you, sir, but we still have to search for hope, or what’s the point?”

Pastor Gary chewed for a moment then swallowed. “We can only find hope in God, Mr. Haller. And we always find God in difficult times.”

Mike turned to Jordan and asked, “What do you think about
man’s destiny, Jordan?”

Jordan acted surprised that someone had spoken to him. “I don’t know,” he said hesitantly. “I guess I don’t really think about it much.”

Virginia arrived with Mike’s cheeseburger and delivered it with an ominous scowl before retreating to the grocery store.

Mike pulled Sara’s charm bracelet from his pocket and placed it on the table in front of Jordan. “I found this at the spot where my daughter’s Honda broke down. Do you recognize it?”

Duncan Winter looked at Mike. “I don’t know if this is a good idea, Mr. Haller. You really shouldn’t be asking Jordan questions without the sheriff being here.”

Mike continued looking at Jordan and pushed the two loose charms closer to his plate of half eaten food. “I bought this bracelet for Sara the day she graduated from high school. She was wearing it on Wednesday when she disappeared.”

Jordan wouldn’t speak. His eyes remained glued to the bracelet.

“Mr. Haller, please stop,” Duncan pleaded.

“If you look closely, you’ll notice that the clasp is broken and several charms are missing.” Mike leaned across the table a bit. “What do you think that means, Jordan?”

Jordan did
n’t twitch a muscle.

Pastor Gary Popineau finally realized what was happening and asked, “Mr. Haller, you don’t believe that Jordan had anything to do with the disappearance of your daughter, do you?”

Mike remained focused on the young man. “The charm bracelet is broken because my daughter struggled with someone,” he said. “Knowing my daughter, she fought pretty damn hard.”

Pastor Gary
put his hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Son,” he said. “We all know you are hurting, but you have to stop this madness. Jordan is a good boy.”

Mike pulled his shoulder away from Pastor Gary and stood. Placing his hand over the charm, he broke Jordan’s concentration. The young man finally looked at him.

“Did that excite you?” Mike asked bitterly. “Is it the fight that excites you?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Duncan said. He stood and moved next to Jordan. “I’ll have Virginia get you a container for your food, Mr. Haller. You need to leave
.”

Mike
’s anger flashed quickly. Doubling his fist, he slammed it hard against the table. “Answer me, you little bastard!” he yelled. “What the fuck did you do with my daughter?”

The distinct sound of a shotgun shell being jacked into its chamber brought the room to silence. Mike looked toward the
grocery and saw Virginia standing there with a twelve-gauge shotgun pointed at his chest.