Twisted Retribution

by Donna Arp Weitzman

  ***

  Sarah prayed all afternoon that God would lead her to his way, the right and just way. She was confident she’d arrest Henry that day and lock him in the jail until the federal authorities took him. Sarah Sears saw not only her chance for God’s redemption but also her opportunity to prove her heroic qualities. She would become a local hero, keeping her mouth shut about any relationship she’d had with the killer. Sarah would try never to think of Henry Lee Lucas again. God had plans for Sarah, and the late afternoon would bring justice to everyone concerned.

  Her gun holster held a loaded .45, and she placed a 12-gauge shotgun beside her driver’s seat. The clock ticked slowly in her office as she waited for the appointed time. Meanwhile, Zach brought in another fax showing a headshot of a teenage girl along with the picture of Henry. The headline blasted, “WANTED for MURDER.”

  Sarah sat, stunned. Might Henry have a youthful accomplice? What if the girl was still with him? If so, Sarah would never leave the car when she met up with Henry. She would just wave goodbye to him and keep driving. Two killers could overwhelm her. The change of plans irritated Sarah. She chastised herself once more for ever allowing this man to enter her mind or her body.

  Five o’clock struck, and Sarah fingered her pistol as she picked up her worn leather handbag. “See you tomorrow, Zach.”

  “Stay away from that bastard you live with! He needs to die!” Zach told her firmly.

  Sarah nodded and exited the office door. Ruby was already backing out of the office driveway. She never missed square dancing evenings at the VFW Hall.

  ***

  “You stay outside, close to that fire,” Henry warned Becky as she sat near the stove on a rickety chair.

  “Those damned stray dogs might pull out some of the bones,” he said. Becky pouted and argued, “But I don’t want to babysit a corpse.”

  Henry snapped, “Shut up and do as I say! Tomorrow we’ll head on up the road.”

  “Where you goin’?” Becky whined.

  “I told you to shut up, or I’ll beat the shit out of you!” Henry yelled.

  Becky knew she’d pushed the limit. Mrs. Mooney’s burning flesh now mingled with old ashes and made a putrid smell.

  “If anybody comes up here, say the old lady is gone, and you’re burning a dead cat,” Henry told her.

  He walked around the front of the house where he’d parked and started the car. Today he’d have to tie up loose ends. He’d fuck the cop lady one more time and then strangle her. He liked her, so he couldn’t bring himself to shoot her.

  Just then, a white sedan pulled in the driveway. A heavy, middle-aged brunette climbed out the driver’s seat, waving at Henry. She carried two brown paper sacks. “Hi, there!” she called. “Is Mrs. Mooney at home? I brought her some tomatoes.”

  Henry looked puzzled, but he quickly decided to put on a good act. “No, she went to the grocery store.”

  The lady looked surprised. “How? She doesn’t drive.”

  “Oh,” Henry reacted. “I dropped her off. I have to go back and get her in a few minutes.”

  The woman was curious but not overly inquisitive. “I’m Della. Who are you?”

  “I am her nephew. My daughter is out back,” Henry replied, desperate to show a little Lucas charm.

  “Funny, Mrs. Mooney never mentioned having a nephew,” the lady mused and squinted in the sunlight.

  “Yeah, I never got to know my aunt very well,” he added. Lies came easily to Henry.

  “Well,” the lady belabored, “I guess you can just leave the tomatoes in Mrs. Mooney’s kitchen. She loves my fresh tomatoes.”

  Henry needed to get going right away to meet Sarah on time. The tomato gardener wanted to chat. Henry was growing more desperate. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I need to go get my aunt,” he finally said. At least fifteen minutes or more had passed, and the woman showed no signs of starting her car and leaving.

  She was growing more interested in Henry and continued asking him questions. “Where you from?” she persisted.

  “Oh, Florida,” Henry answered without making eye contact. “I really gotta go, ma’am.”

  “Well, I’m just surprised Mrs. Mooney didn’t tell me she had company. I usually take her to the Piggly Wiggly when I bring over the tomatoes. She gives me five dollars.” The woman seemed disappointed to miss payday.

  Henry was clearly agitated by now. “I’m happy to pay you, but I have to go!” He tried to be calm. “Maybe I should just strangle this bitch and get this over with,” he thought briefly. Chatter was not Henry’s strength unless it advantaged him.

  Taking her sunglasses out of her handbag and placing them on her face, she finally relented. “No matter,” she said. “Just tell Mrs. Mooney I’ll see her next week. I’ll call her in the meantime.” She got back in the driver’s seat, started the car, and rolled down the window.

  “Thanks, ma’am,” Henry called, holding up the bags of tomatoes. “Aunt Rose said she may go on a little trip next week with us. I’m not sure.”

  “Well, that beats all!” the lady exclaimed. “Mrs. Mooney never goes anywhere but to Nocona.”

  Henry hoped to follow the nosy lady out of the driveway. Sarah would already be at the river bottom waiting now.

  ***

  Sarah waited at the bridge until 5:15, looking for a flying cloud of dust as Henry approached in his car. For the next fifteen minutes, she saw no sign of him and finally decided things around Nocona must have become too hot for Henry. He and the girl had probably escaped. Sarah wanted to go home and determine her next steps because she couldn’t think straight.

  Meanwhile, Henry cursed the brunette visitor and the highway at the same time as he made his way to the river. The Mooney place was on the west side of town, thirty minutes from the muddy sands of the Red River. Henry wanted to speed but had to use his customary restraint when driving.

  He finally drove over the river bank, hoping to spy the cop car, but it was very late now and Sarah was nowhere in sight.

  “What the hell?” Henry asked. Maybe she didn’t come. Perhaps Sarah was on to him. Or maybe she’d already left.

  “Dammit!” Henry yelled. He was pissed off, whatever the situation turned out to be.

  Thinking of Mooney’s body, Becky’s insolent behavior, and the danger lurking in overstaying one place, Henry decided it was time to leave Montague County. He’d do one last deed, just because he’d promised: kill Pete Sears and let the cop lady live. Henry felt good about his decision.

  ***

  Meanwhile, Olivia barely made it to the Sears’ front porch without passing out. Holding a bloody towel in her hands, she was bleeding badly through her vagina. Pale and weak, she tried to yell for her father to open the door. Pete found his wounded daughter unconscious on the front step. Panicked, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the couch. Dousing a cloth in cold water, he bathed her face, imploring his daughter to wake up.

  “Olivia, what happened? Are you okay?” He shook her shoulders gently.

  Pete Sears loved his daughter and would kill anyone who harmed her. “Honey, what happened to you?”

  Olivia whimpered, “Daddy, will you hate me if I tell you?”

  “Of course not, baby, I’m here for you,” Pete said.

  Just then Sarah walked to the front door, wondering why it was left open just before she saw a smear of what appeared to be blood on the porch step. She could see Olivia on the couch, Pete crouched over her. Seeing a bloody towel, Sarah suspected a gunshot wound, but why Olivia?

  Henry entered her thoughts.

  “Olivia, Pete. What’s going on?” Sarah cried.

  Pete glanced at Sarah and back at his daughter. “Olivia,” he pleaded, “tell us what happened.”

  Sarah was not sure where the blood had come from, but Olivia’s bleeding appeared to have stopped. She quickly grabbed a clean towel from the kitchen just in case and brought Olivia a glass of water.

  Pete stayed by his girl’s side, waiting for
an explanation.

  “I had an abortion.” Olivia barely spoke the words, tears running down her face.

  “An abortion,” Pete repeated.

  Olivia was crying uncontrollably now.

  “Who was the father? And who did this abortion?” Pete insisted, his anger boiling. Who would do this to his baby?

  Olivia hesitated, then she whimpered, “Reverend Thomas.”

  “Reverend Thomas did the abortion?” Sarah asked, flabbergasted. “Why him?”

  “Because he is the father, okay?” Olivia cried out defiantly.

  “What?” Sarah said and locked eyes with her husband. Reverend Thomas had raped their daughter.

  “Did he rape you?” Pete demanded answers.

  “No, I had sex with him for two years!” Olivia screamed, crying harder. Pete and Sarah waited for Olivia to calm down before one of them asked, “Why with him?”

  “He gives a lot of us money, drugs, and some booze,” Olivia explained matter-of-factly. “It’s easy, just fuck him occasionally. But I got pregnant, and that made him mad.”

  Her parents sat in shock as Olivia explained that the priest had performed abortions for other girls.

  “Usually, he says, he does a good job,” Olivia added. “Mine was fucked up, and I couldn’t stop bleeding. I panicked and left.”

  Pete Sears was in shock and began pacing. “How did you get here?” he demanded.

  A knock at the door interrupted the inquisition.

  “Who the hell?” Pete said and hurried toward the door. Sarah looked out the window and recognized Henry’s car in the yard.

  “No!” Sarah yelled at Pete. “Let me get it.”

  But Pete had already opened the door to find Henry standing there with a knife.

  “Hi, gorgeous,” Henry said, looking over Pete’s shoulder. “I told you I’d kill your old man.”

  At that moment, Henry stabbed at Pete’s stomach. Pete stepped back, but Henry had severely wounded him.

  “Stop!” Sarah yelled and pulled her gun, pointing it at Henry. “Enough, or I’ll kill you!”

  “Well,” Henry sneered. “You’ve changed your mind. Gettin’ all lovey-dovey, are you?” But Henry suspected Sarah was serious. She would pull the trigger if Henry made any attempt to harm her family any further.

  “Okay, cop lady. I’m leaving unless you shoot me in the back, and I don’t think you will.”

  Pete was on the floor, clutching his stomach and bleeding profusely. Olivia was screaming as Henry ran to his car and fled.

  Sarah jammed one of Olivia’s fresh towels on Pete’s wound and helped him to her car. She went back for Olivia, who could stand up by now. Olivia and Sarah worked together to get Pete in the backseat. He almost passed out many times. Sarah raced to the hospital, using her two-way radio to alert the doctors of a knife wound and a teen suffering a botched abortion. The Sears family was in peril.

  Within minutes, the hospital staff prepped Pete for surgery. The bleeding had to subside for him to live. Betty Connor, Nocona’s only R.N., took Olivia to the doctor next, nodding for Sarah to stay in the waiting area. But Sarah ran to Olivia’s side. Nurse Betty was insistent and told Sarah, “We’ll take care of your daughter.”

  ***

  A killer’s mind is a strange enigma. Henry was a cold soul who’d never loved anything that lived, but he felt an odd betrayal committed by Sarah Sears. He had promised to kill her abuser, thinking he was doing a favor for the woman. Sarah might feel indebted to him, maybe even caring for him because of his largesse toward her.

  Instead, she had sided with her husband. This duplicity infuriated Henry. “Figures,” he thought. “You can never trust a bitch. They’ll always turn against you.” He briefly toyed with the idea of killing Sarah just to make sure she knew she’d fucked over the wrong person, but he knew his time in Montague County was short. He’d better get going while he could.

  Wheeling in Mrs. Mooney’s drive, he noticed a little bit of smoke still rising from the stove a hundred yards toward the back of the property. He surmised Becky had done a good job of keeping the animals away from the cooked flesh while he was gone. Becky propped open the screen door of the home with her hand, and Henry noticed she was drinking a Diet Coke.

  “What’s up? Where you been?” she questioned Henry.

  “Get your stuff. We are leaving now,” he demanded. Becky was happy to leave this place; she loved new adventures.

  ***

  Nocona had three doctors, all general practitioners. They treated colds, delivered babies, and sewed up wounds. Although rare occurrences, they could handle the occasional emergency. A stabbing and a botched abortion were manageable if there was no widespread infection. All three doctors had been summoned, and all determined that Olivia and Pete would be okay, just traumatized for different reasons.

  Sarah Sears had a lot to deal with herself. What story would she tell her law enforcement cronies? Why was Henry at her house? The county sheriff would be calling soon to get information, and Sarah’s story had to be rock solid. She had no lingering fantasies about the murderer. She wanted to kill Henry and see him die at her hands. God would want this.

  And then there was Olivia, poor Olivia. Sarah needed to find out whose baby had been murdered and why Olivia would allow herself to be butchered in such a manner. Olivia was sedated for the night, but after she awoke, Sarah would get a name. She could not allow herself to believe Reverend Thomas was the perpetrator. Whoever did this to Olivia Sears would be punished. Sarah would make sure this person never touched her daughter again.

  Meanwhile, Henry planned to travel to Amarillo, Texas, and go on to Colorado from there. He could hide out in the Rocky Mountains until all this blew over. Henry hated mountains but knew they’d provide ample cover. After staying in Wichita Falls for the night, he could be in the Texas Panhandle by the next day.

  Becky threw her suitcase and a brown paper bag in the car.

  “What’s in the bag?” Henry asked.

  “Old Lady Mooney’s stuff like shampoo, conditioner, and stuff I might use,” she replied. Becky Toole enjoyed being a thief. They both laughed.

  Henry pulled out on Highway 82 and headed west. It was late in the day, and the sunlight streamed through the windshield. Henry realized he was tired and hoped he’d get to rest in Wichita Falls. He wanted to sleep.

  Becky was spraying some of Mrs. Mooney’s cheap perfume on her neck. Two of society’s worst were on the run again.

  ***

  Both Pete and Olivia slept through the evening in their respective hospital beds. Sarah stayed all night on the waiting room couch, afraid Henry might try to kill again if she went home alone. She was weary and agitated, but Sarah prayed throughout the night, asking God to make her clear-eyed and determined. By the morning, she knew she’d find Henry and kill him, and then she’d deal with Olivia’s abuser.

  Pete was groggy from medication when he awoke to see Sarah standing next to his bed. He asked her what had happened to him.

  She explained that a serial killer had tried to stab him to death.

  “Why me?” Pete asked, confused.

  “Because he wanted to kill me,” Sarah said, “but it was you who opened the front door.” Sarah sounded very plausible.

  “Why you then?” Pete was still perplexed.

  “Because I was about to catch him,” Sarah soothed, once again sounding very convincing.

  “Wow, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time then, huh?” Pete joked. “But I’m glad he didn’t kill you or me.”

  Sarah was pleased Pete had shown her some kindness.

  “You’re gonna be all right, just sore,” she told her husband. “The doctors did a good job.”

  “Am I supposed to be hungry?” Pete asked his wife. Sarah smiled and buzzed the nurse.

  “Why isn’t Olivia here with you?” Pete asked before the nurse arrived. He was always concerned about his daughter.

  “Do you remember when she came home last night before you w
ent to the front door?” Sarah inquired.

  “Not really...” Pete’s voice trailed off, and he looked in Sarah’s eyes.

  Sarah frowned and continued, “She was bleeding...”

  “Why?” Pete questioned.

  “Because she’d had a botched abortion.”

  “What?” Pete was upset and curious. “An abortion? I don’t understand.”

  Sarah realized that Pete did not remember any of the details from the previous evening and decided to wait to tell him about Olivia’s confession that it was Reverend Thomas.

  “I don’t understand either,” Sarah offered. “But I’m going to find out the story when she wakes up.”

  “Is she okay?” Pete sounded concerned.

  “Yes,” Sarah assured him.

  Nurse Betty entered the room with a tray of soft breakfast food for Pete and helped him rearrange his pillows.

  Sarah left and went to check on her daughter. Olivia was awake but not communicating with the nurses who were asking about her pain level.

  “Good morning, honey,” Sarah said brightly. “Are you hurting anywhere?”

  “No,” Olivia snapped at her mom. “Just let me sleep.”

  “Okay, in a minute,” Sarah said kindly as a nurse’s aide walked in, holding a tray of food.

  “Would you like some breakfast?” the aide asked.

  “No,” Olivia snapped again. Sarah waved the young girl out of the room.

  Sarah spoke more firmly this time. “Olivia, I want to know who the father is.” Assuming Olivia had been delirious with pain when she accused Reverend Thomas, Sarah wanted some real answers. “You said Reverend Thomas was the father and that he’d performed your abortion. Now I’m ready for you to tell me the truth.”

  Olivia raised herself up on one elbow, looked Sarah in the eye, and said, “The father was Reverend Thomas. He fucked me for two years or more. And for that, I got drugs, alcohol, and whatever else I wanted. When I got pregnant, he did the abortion. I never thought you’d find out. Now I’m fucked!” She threw her head back onto the pillow.