Unholy Sacrifice
Page 1
FALL ASLEEP FOR GOOD
Justin Helzer stood behind Selina Bishop with a hammer, waiting for her to turn her back on him, but she never did.
Then Justin’s brother, Taylor, put Rohypnol, the date rape drug, into Selina’s wineglass, hoping she would fall asleep for good. She noticed something floating on the surface of her wine, however, and refused to drink.
“Oh, let me get you a clean glass,” Taylor quickly said.
Next, Taylor lured Selina into his bedroom. A half hour went by and Taylor came out of the bedroom, complaining, “She’s not falling asleep. I’m going to have her go into the family room and I’ll give her a back rub.”
Selina came out of the bedroom and Taylor spread a blanket on the family room’s floor. He had Selina lie down on it and had her face the windows, away from the center of the room. Her head was turned away from Justin, who was standing nearby. She had no idea he had a hammer in his hand.
After fifteen minutes of Taylor massaging Selina’s back and shoulders, Justin moved forward and raised the hammer.
UNHOLY SACRIFICE
ROBERT SCOTT
PINNACLE BOOKS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
FALL ASLEEP FOR GOOD
Title Page
Dedication
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1 - The Golden Child and Aspect
CHAPTER 2 - In To Me See
CHAPTER 3 - In the Company of Angels
CHAPTER 4 - Fooled Around and Fell in Love
CHAPTER 5 - Children of Thunder
CHAPTER 6 - Days of Thunder
CHAPTER 7 - “Spirit says you get to know this is not a dream.”
CHAPTER 8 - Murky Waters
CHAPTER 9 - Raid on Saddlewood
CHAPTER 10 - The Delta of Death
CHAPTER 11 - The Beehive
CHAPTER 12 - Crossing the Bar
CHAPTER 13 - The Forum
CHAPTER 14 - The Fatal Phases
CHAPTER 15 - The End of Days
CHAPTER 16
EPILOGUE
Copyright Page
This book is dedicated to Ivan, Annette, Selina, Jennifer, James and Ray.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Many people helped me in the creation of this book. I’d like to thank Don Wilson, Chris Darden, Ray and Mabel Carberry, Juley Salkeld, Roger Riddle and Rosanne Lusk Urban, J. Lawrence, D. Golden, G. Tardelli and B. Tweed. I’d also like to thank Tom Moyer, Mike Harkelroad, Howard Newman, the entire staff of Department Four and Criminal Court clerks. Once again, I appreciate all the help of my editor Michaela Hamilton and literary agent Damaris Rowland.
Taylor Helzer wasn’t the Second Coming of Christ, he was the Second Coming of Manson.
—Olga Land, Jennifer Villarin’s sister and Selina Bishop’s aunt
PROLOGUE
California Delta, August 7, 2000.
A skier crashed over the waves, rocking down the North Fork of the Mokelumne River on a large personal watercraft. Spray from the wake danced into a clear blue sky, sparkling like diamonds in the bright sunlight. The Mokelumne River ran down from the forested western slopes of the Sierra Nevada range, crossed the fertile Central Valley and exited into a thousand-mile labyrinth of waterways in the Sacramento/San Joaquin Delta.
Behind the personal watercraft, man-made levees enclosed the river, and the landscape appeared not so much like Louisiana, but like the Netherlands. In fact, it was a little bit of Holland right in the heart of California, minus the quaint windmills. All the other superlatives applied, however. Incredibly rich soils produced an abundance of crops, including tomatoes, asparagus, corn, sunflowers, almonds, pears and an array of others. The soil was so rich, in fact, made up of decomposed tules, that if it was set alight, it would burn for days, if not weeks.
And not unlike Holland, whenever a levee broke, the water came crashing in, to reclaim an island—not with saltwater, but freshwater, to make it a haven for bass, crawdads, catfish and scores of other fish and marine life. It was these fish and the recreation potential that annually brought a legion of outdoor enthusiasts to the California Delta. The twisting rivers and sloughs were a watery haven for fast speedboats and personal watercrafts, sedate houseboats and sailboats, and intrepid windsurfers. In fact, the junction of the Sacramento and San Joaquin Rivers was one of the best windsurfing areas in the world. It drew enthusiasts from as far away as Europe and Australia.
These miles of often-mysterious waterways had also lured one of the twentieth-century’s great mystery writers to its shores—Erle Stanley Gardner, the creator of countless Perry Mason mysteries. Spending part of each year at Bethel Island, the prolific Gardner wrote dozens of courtroom dramas that eventually sold millions of copies and turned into the popular Perry Mason television series, with its star Raymond Burr.
In his leisure time, Gardner spent days out on the Delta, exploring its channels and sleepy towns. He wrote of one area, The Meadows, in his book Gypsy Days on the Delta: “This is a really beautiful part of the Delta country, uninhabited islands bordered with huge trees, the waters fairly well sheltered, the scenery a yachtsman’s delight.”
The Delta was indeed a sort of pastoral Arcadia, and had witnessed one of the most colorful and romantic scenes in California history. In 1832, the French Canadians, of the Hudson Bay Company, and Native Americans worked together as trappers along the sloughs of the Delta. Captain Michel Laframboise presided over an encampment on the eastern shores of the region. Miss A. J. Allison wrote of the encampment and its inhabitants: “They formed themselves in Indian file, led by Mr. Laframboise, the chief of the party. Next to him rode his wife, a native woman, upon her pony, quite picturesquely clad. She wore a man’s hat with long black feathers fastened in the front and drooping behind her gracefully. Her short dress was a rich broadcloth, leggings beautifully embroidered with gay beads and fringed with tiny bells, whose musical tinkling could be heard at several hundred yards distance. The trampling of the fast-walking horses, the silvery tinkling bells, the rich handsome dress and fine appearance of the riders, whose numbers amounted to sixty or seventy, had a quite imposing appearance.”
This Arcadian scene in the Delta was soon to vanish, however. The richly clad cavalcade of trappers brought not only prosperity to the region, they brought smallpox and other diseases. A few years later, trapper Ewing Young wrote of the Delta Indians: “The poor creatures knew no remedy. They resorted to their charms and flocked to sweat houses and there, in groups of several hundreds, would dance frantically around a blazing fire and thus while dancing around, the malady would seize them and they would fall down in agonies of death till the sweat houses could contain no more. So impregnated was the atmosphere with the effluvia of decomposing and putrifying bodies that it was almost impossible to navigate the rivers.”
In the year 2000, almost 170 years after the plague years of the 1830s, the California Delta waterways would once again become rivers of death. An event would occur that would eclipse Perry Mason’s most sensational cases. It would beggar description, becoming more ghastly and more bizarre, until it took on an air of nightmarish unreality. The trigger of the event was floating just beneath the murky waters of the North Fork of the Mokelumne River, like a sea mine, ready to explode upon an unsuspecting world.
On a big loop of the Mokelumne, near the Lighthouse Resort and Rancho Marina, Steven Sibert, a skier, slowed down when he caught sight of a dark object bobbing in the water ahead. At first glance, it appeared to be only a clump of floating vegetation, not an uncommon sight in the area. Large drifts of water hyacinth sometimes broke loos
e and floated on the waters. When Steven Sibert came closer, however, he saw that the object was not vegetation. It was a duffel bag.
Surprised and curious, Steven Sibert opened the duffel bag and stared at it in horror. Within its sodden interior were dismembered human body parts.
Steven Sibert had no way of knowing at the time that the body parts weren’t from some gangland slaying—they were much more bizarre and unbelievable than that. The victims in the duffel bag had been struck down by a man who proclaimed himself to be a prophet of God. He believed he had been given a commandment by God to declare war on Satan and usher in the millenial reign of Jesus Christ’s Second Coming.
The young prophet had taken the name Jordan, as if aware that he was crossing over the river into a wilderness of his own devising. He was at war with the established order of the Mormon Church, at war with the United States government, and at war with Satan and all his minions. In his quest for righteousness, he had two disciples to help him in his grandiose plans to transform America. If America had to be transformed by blood sacrifice, then he was willing to take whatever measures he deemed necessary.
The young man may have called himself Jordan, but in reality he was thirty-year-old Glenn Taylor Helzer. He had been a devout Mormon, National Guardsman, successful stockbroker, prophet and now murderer.
As Steven Sibert gazed down on the severed body parts, he witnessed the fruits of Glenn Taylor Helzer’s unholy sacrifices.
CHAPTER 1
The Golden Child and Aspect
Taylor Helzer’s father, Gerry, was a devout Mormon and an insurance salesman. In time, he would also become an expert white-water raft guide and operator. Taylor’s mother, Carma, was also a devout Mormon, housewife and sometimes physical therapist. They led a typical, middle-class Mormon life of church, family and responsible living. The family moved often through various states, which included Texas and Georgia. The family eventually settled down in the small town of Pacheco, California, about thirty miles from San Francisco, in Contra Costa County. Contra Costa was a mix of rolling hills, vibrant cities and industrial complexes. It was a place where intrepid mountain man Joseph Walker decided to settle down, as well as world-famous naturalist John Muir. His home in Martinez became a magnet for the environmental movement, as well as a splendid working farm and orchard.
Glenn Taylor Helzer was born on July 26, 1970, and from the beginning, he was the beloved son in the Helzer household. Taylor was bright, charming and good-looking, and it seemed that life for everyone began to revolve around him. Even from an early age, he could quote scripture from the Book of Mormon with great presence of mind and a gift for memorization. One of the local bishops of the church predicted great things for Taylor.
Even though his first name was Glenn, it wasn’t long before almost everyone began calling him Taylor. One of his cousins, Charney Hoffman, had many things to say about Taylor in the years to come. Of Taylor’s youth, Hoffman said, “We lived with them for some time when I was young in Georgia. As we got a little bit older, we continued to meet. I stayed in touch with Taylor. I absolutely loved him. He was very influential in my life and lots of other people’s lives. He was never, never judgmental toward my family, though my family is definitely not an example of how the Latter-Day Saints church would like people to live.
“Taylor was very accepting, regardless of the fact that’s not always the case with people who are very religious. But Taylor always sought to foster a lot of love and understanding in all of his relationships.
“I remember going to Marriott’s Great America and somebody said something to make me think they were stupid. I remember being sarcastic to that person. And Taylor stopped me. He had insight to know that I was being cruel to somebody else because somebody had been cruel to me. He said, ‘Wait a second, do you understand that you probably hurt that person’s feelings? ’
“Taylor was always the light in a group. You were always having fun as long as Taylor was there because he brought people together.”
Justin Helzer was born on February 12, 1972, and became the middle child after a daughter, Heather, was born to the Helzers. Justin was shy and polite. He seemed awkward compared to his dynamic and charismatic brother, Taylor. Justin was forever in Taylor’s shadow, even at an early age. Whereas Taylor seemed to have countless friends in school, both male and female, Justin had almost none. He was painfully shy around girls and tried not to stick out in class. This became somewhat difficult as he grew in height, towering over his classmates by the time he was in junior high school.
When the Helzer children were teenagers, they went to live for awhile with their grandfather, Doyle Sorenson, who was Carma’s father. Doyle was very religious and some thought him to be on the fringes of the Mormon faith.
On one occasion, Doyle claimed that he had seen Jesus Christ in his front yard. It wasn’t just a vision, he said. Jesus was there in the flesh, and Doyle went outside to talk with him. The vision was not of a short duration—Doyle later claimed that Jesus was there for hours. Taylor was very taken with his grandfather Doyle. He admired his piety and spirituality.
Taylor had problems living up to these ideals, however. He felt guilty after sinning, especially if he masturbated. Consumed with guilt, he tried committing suicide at one point. Years later, a psychiatrist, Dr. Douglas Tucker, said, “Taylor as early as fourteen was experiencing ideas that were unusual and inappropriate. He was receiving inaudible messages by the age of fourteen. Taylor was told he had the gift of revelation, but he didn’t know if the messages he was receiving were from God or Satan.”
In Concord, California, in 1985, a girl named Ann met Taylor Helzer at Ygnacio Valley High School. Even though Taylor didn’t play sports and wasn’t involved in student government, Ann realized that almost everyone at Ygnacio Valley High knew Taylor. He was dynamic and personable. “There was something charismatic about him,” she said later. “You noticed him.” For a time after high school, Ann and Taylor went their separate ways, but she would not forget the charismatic young man.
By contrast, Justin ghosted through his high school years. He was pleasant and amiable, but had none of Taylor’s flair for self-advertisement. Not that he was without some admirers. Years later, William Smithausen, who was a biology teacher at Ygnacio Valley High, said, “I remember Justin very well. He was one of the tallest kids in class. He had a wonderful smile and was a pleasure to teach. He added humor to the class. Very pleasant and cooperative. Even after teaching more than five thousand kids, I remembered Justin. He was unique.”
One thing that made him unique was his absolute docility. He seemed to be always waiting for someone else to direct him, especially his brother.
At the age of seventeen, Taylor decided to join the National Guard. He was underage, however, and his relative Jill Tingey recalled, “They (he and Carma) came down because he was going into the National Guard. Carma and Taylor were there and kept running into red-tape problems. So they were, off and on, at our place for six weeks. Taylor was so sweet and wonderful. My children loved him. He was cooperative and he was helpful. We were doing various projects, gardening and painting the fence and stuff. He was awesome. I wished he was my kid.”
Taylor ran into problems in the National Guard in Texas, however. His eyes were opened by the drinking, swearing and chasing after women by his fellow unit members. He even began preaching to them about the errors of their ways. To some, he was a terrible prig, but a few of his fellow recruits listened to what he had to say. If nothing else, Taylor was always very talkative and knew how to persuade some individuals.
After the National Guard, Taylor decided to go on mission. For young Mormon men and women, going on mission is one of the highlights of their lives. They are sent to another area or country, are teamed up with a partner and teach about the Book of Mormon and the LDS Church.
Charney Hoffman recalled Taylor’s going-away party. Hoffman said, “The main meeting is actually given to the family members and the departing missio
nary to deliver some type of message. The message of the meeting from Taylor and from his parents was after other people spoke. And the things people said about Taylor were to the effect of—he had a good effect on them. Taylor, according to what people said, read scriptures with virtually anyone who raised their hand. Most of the people talked about insights that Taylor brought, which is actually unusual. Usually people give their own comments, but in that ward, he had a lot of clout. People were very, very proud of the interaction that they had with Taylor. People were excited to share insights about life, about scripture, about anything. The positive influence that he had in their lives.”
When he reached Brazil, Taylor was exuberant about his mission. He wrote in a journal that he needed to work on everything. He said, “I can’t disobey the slightest whispering of Spirit.” He added that he needed to follow through on everything that the Spirit told him.
One time on a plane trip in Brazil, there were members of a rock-and-roll band sitting across from him. Taylor smiled at them, but they did not smile back. He felt that they were cold and dead. He wrote later, “I hope I will remember that it is not fame or money that make people happy.”
A person who knew Taylor very well on his mission in Brazil was a young man named Jonathon Taylor. Jonathon left home for his mission at the age of nineteen in 1990. He recalled, “I served my mission in Brazil, specifically the Brazilian Mission, which was where the headquarters of the mission territory was located. Although the territory of the mission was quite large, it included a number of different territories, Brazilian states and larger cities. I served in many of those areas.
“When I arrived, I felt equal parts excited and overwhelmed. Excited simply because I was anxious to serve on a mission—I had certainly been trained in the language—but nervous because you’re a little bit out of your element. It’s a new experience and you’re a long way from home.