“The tea you brought has helped a great deal. It’s not a cure, but I’ve seen improvement. I did keep a journal while I was in Washington. Your notion that the headaches are tied to stress holds a lot of truth.” She looked into his eyes, and Daisy’s head flopped against her shoulder.
“The children won’t lower your stress. And Robby will most likely compound it.”
A scream from the beach flagged their attention. Robby erupted from the sand and chased Rose with something in his fingers. Probably that sand crab. Stella smiled. “I think much of my stress stemmed from frustration. I wanted to do something meaningful with my life but couldn’t find a way to make a difference. You’ve given me the world. Just knowing that I’m doing what I was made to do … and having the opportunity to work alongside you, I already feel lighter.”
“Does that mean you’ll marry me?” He whispered the words low in her ear, and she bit back a smile.
“I admit I did you wrong.” She arched a brow. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t have to give me a proper proposal. Get down on one knee.”
Henry grinned, his boyhood charm still very much alive. “I don’t have a ring yet. Jane didn’t give me time to prepare when she planned all this.”
Stella tilted her head. “Jane? But I thought—”
“She’s had a change of heart too.” Henry brushed windblown curls from her face.
“I don’t need a ring, you know.” Stella rested her head atop Daisy’s. She could hold this precious child forever.
“Are you sure?” He tossed her a lopsided smile.
“You said that all you brought to the table was your whole heart.” Emotion burned her throat. “My dear Henry, that’s more than enough.”
“Well, then.” He dropped to one knee and took her free hand. “Stella Burke, I’m poor and ordinary, and you could do worlds better than me. But I love you. So much that I don’t know quite how to put it into words. If you’ll have me, I’ll try my whole life long to make you happy. Would you marry me?”
Tears trailed hot down Stella’s cheeks, and the breeze whipped past and dried them. “What do you mean you didn’t have time to prepare?” She squeezed his hand. “You’ve never been so eloquent.”
“I’ve had many years to build this moment in my mind. I never dreamed I’d have the opportunity to share my heart … with you.” He glanced at the ground. She followed his gaze. A violet grew near a patch of dune grass. He plucked it and held it out to her. “I’m still waiting for your answer.”
“Well, of course I’ll marry you.” She took the flower and lifted it to her nose.
Henry stood and kissed her.
Though heartache, grief, and fear clouded her past, the future seemed to be tinted purple. The color of home and family.
Epilogue
February 1912
Stella held Henry’s hand as the jury returned to the courtroom after their deliberations. Dr. Linda Hazzard sat behind the defense table, her cool demeanor no different from what it had always been. Not giving off an inkling that she felt the slightest sting of regret for her cruelty.
“Don’t look at her, darling. She’s an evil woman.” Henry lifted Stella’s hand to his lips.
The wood-paneled walls smelled of pine, conjuring memories of the cabin. Stella steeled her nerves. How she’d love leaving this place far behind.
Margaret Conway and Dora Williamson were noticeably absent. Though Dora had improved much over the past year, the trial had dredged up memories of her sister and sapped her strength. Besides, even if Dr. Hazzard was convicted of murder, no amount of retribution could bring back Claire Williamson.
Stella scanned the faces on the prosecution’s side where she sat with Henry. Tilda. No longer a walking corpse, she looked much improved. She glanced at Stella and sent her an apologetic smile, eyes glistening.
“Have you reached a verdict?” the judge asked from behind the bench.
The foreman stood. “We have, Your Honor.”
Stella’s grip on Henry’s hand tightened. Though the prosecutor had presented a solid case against the charlatan, even proving that Linda Hazzard had forged Claire Williamson’s name on legal documents and stolen most of her money and valuables, a murder conviction was by no means certain.
The foreman read from a sheet of paper. “We the jury in the case of the State of Washington versus Linda Burfield Hazzard find Mrs. Hazzard guilty”—he paused—“of manslaughter.”
The courtroom erupted with whispered indignation.
Manslaughter. Wasn’t that a much lesser charge than murder? Stella caught Henry’s eye, and he shook his head. His lowered brows confirmed this was not what they’d hoped for.
The judge banged his gavel. “Order. Order in the court.”
A hush settled over the room.
“I hereby sentence Linda Burfield Hazzard to two to twenty years’ hard labor at the Washington State Penitentiary.” He struck his gavel again and left for his chambers.
Two to twenty years? Somehow even the maximum didn’t feel like enough for all the anguish Linda Hazzard had caused. When Stella had related her memory of Wendell Church’s death, the Hazzards had flatly denied murdering him. Sam had claimed they thought Wendell was a prowler. Said if they’d have known he was a patient, Linda never would have pulled the trigger. Poppycock.
And with Sue’s body cremated, police were unable to determine if the cause of death was murder or a fatal ailment as the old Buzzard claimed.
As the prison guard fastened shackles on Linda Burfield Hazzard’s wrists, the woman locked eyes with Stella. A cold chill snaked down Stella’s spine. So much hate resided in those black pits.
Henry wrapped an arm around her. “Let’s go home.” He kissed her temple.
“But this isn’t how the story is supposed to end.” Stella chewed the inside of her cheek. “Where is the justice? This doesn’t atone for Claire or Sue or Wendell. It’s not fair.”
“I know.” He pursed his lips. “But God sees. He knows exactly what happened at Starvation Heights, though I have a feeling we don’t know the half of it. Let Him take care of the old Buzzard.”
Stella allowed Henry to lead her from the courtroom. The tiny diamond in her wedding ring glittered in the sunshine. He was right. Judgment didn’t belong to the state of Washington; God was more than capable of meting out the appropriate punishment.
She took her seat in the automobile, and once Henry eased behind the wheel, she scooted closer to him.
“I’ve got something for you.” He handed her a brown paper package.
She raised a brow. “What’s this?” Two odd lumps bulged beneath her fingers.
“Open it and find out.”
Unable to fathom what the packet contained, she tore the paper. Her breath hitched. Mama’s earrings. She shook the clusters of amethysts into her gloved hand. “Oh, Henry.” She met his gaze. “How did you get them back?”
“I asked one of the investigating officers if he’d keep an eye out for them.”
She threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you. I thought they were gone forever.”
Henry planted both hands on the steering wheel. “You ready to get home to the children?”
“Of course.” She linked her arm with his. “I’m looking forward to the little girl arriving next week.”
“Me too. Can you imagine losing both parents in two weeks’ time?” Henry steered onto the main road. “Poor little mite.”
Stella rested a hand on her belly. Should she tell him her secret? They’d vowed to keep nothing hidden after he confessed to writing the letters. “We’ll have another arrival in the near future.” She rested her head against his shoulder.
“Have you gotten word from Mrs. Bates?” He stared ahead, oblivious to her implications. Such a man.
“No.” She bit her lip to contain her smile. “It won’t be for several months. We’ll have time to prepare.”
Henry mashed on the brake. Thank goodness the road was deserted. “You don’t mean …?” His ey
es met hers, and a grin tilted his mouth.
Stella could only laugh with joy and nod.
“Oh, my darling.” He pulled her close and kissed her. “We’ve been blessed.”
They had been blessed. Hope welled within her. Through her most trying time, God had grown her, shown her where she was wrong, then given her bounty beyond her wildest imaginations. Dr. Hazzard’s cold glare flashed through her thoughts, but Stella shoved it away. Nothing the woman had done could rob her of this moment. She wouldn’t allow it. Besides, Henry was right. God would take care of Linda Burfield Hazzard. It was just another opportunity to stand still and see His hand at work.
Author’s Note
Stories like this one give me the chills and, in the words of Anne Shirley, make me “deliciously scared.” Somehow, they’re more frightening than the old Nickelodeon show Are You Afraid of the Dark? and every Stephen King novel ever written. For me, the element of truth puts the tale of Linda Burfield Hazzard in a league of its own. When the last credit of a psychological thriller movie fades away, I can flick off the light and fall asleep, knowing the story I watched was the product of some screenwriter’s imagination.
Not so with Linda Burfield Hazzard.
And though she should have received a much harsher sentence for her crimes, she was released from the state penitentiary in Walla Walla after two years when the governor of Washington granted her a full pardon. Then she and Sam Hazzard, an alcoholic who found his solace in guzzling vanilla extract, moved to New Zealand where she opened a practice. While there, she worked under the titles of dietician, physician, and osteopath. She published another book and made enough money to move back to Olalla and open her dream sanatorium in 1920.
Fortunately, the state of Washington had pulled her medical license, so instead of advertising as a clinic, Hazzard referred to it as a “school of health.” Since Dr. Hazzard preferred conducting her own investigations after her patients passed, she built a basement under the new structure that served as an autopsy room. Linda Hazzard continued her starvation techniques, so this room was never empty long.
In 1935, the sanatorium burned to the ground.
Three years later, Linda Burfield Hazzard began to feel unwell. Since critics of her practices dogged her at every turn, she decided to show them just how miraculous fasting could be and started a fast of her own. She died before attaining perfect health. Though it is unknown how many patients she starved to death, twelve is a cautious number. Thirteen if we include Linda Hazzard herself.
Apart from Linda Burfield Hazzard, many of the characters in this story really existed or were based on real people.
Claire and Dora Williamson sought treatment for multiple ailments from Linda Hazzard, and they were assured perfect health if they underwent what Hazzard called her “most beautiful treatment.” By the time Claire realized the danger she and her sister were in, she was too weak to walk into Olalla for help. She crawled from Wilderness Heights toward town, clasping a message for Margaret Conway. A little boy found her between the health spa and Olalla and delivered the message to the telegraph office for her. She died soon after.
While visiting family in Australia, Margaret received the telegram. Claire’s cryptic message convinced her all was not well in Olalla, and Margaret took the first boat bound for the United States. When she arrived at Wilderness Heights, she was told Claire was dead. She stopped at the Butterworth Funeral Home to view the body, but the person the mortician told her was Claire looked nothing like her.
Dora was so emaciated that she barely looked human. Although Margaret worked to convince her to leave, Dora was determined to stay until her health returned. So Margaret stayed with her and oversaw her care. She tried feeding Dora regular meals, but her charge was weak and had lost the ability to chew solid food. The liquid diet continued until Dora relearned how to eat properly.
Sam Hazzard and Rollie Burfield worked for Linda Hazzard throughout the years. Though Sam was already married when he married Linda and was brought up on charges of bigamy, he remained sporadically faithful to his second wife and helped make her dreams for a fasting clinic a reality.
Her son Rollie, a failed actor, relied on his mother for money. He never amounted to much himself.
Wendell Church’s character was based on one of Linda Hazzard’s victims, Eugene Stanley Wakelin. He died of a bullet wound to the head on the Hazzards’ property. While it couldn’t be proved that Linda Hazzard pulled the trigger, it was generally believed she murdered him.
Rumors swirled around Olalla that Linda Hazzard and Butterworth’s were in collusion. It was reported that they buried or cremated the bodies of Dr. Hazzard’s victims before family members were notified, thus keeping the truth of Hazzard’s barbarism from coming to light. None of this could be proven, but the grapevine grew wild with speculation.
If you’re interested in trying Linda Hazzard’s methods for yourself (I don’t recommend it), her book Fasting for the Cure of Disease can be found in natural health stores. It’s also available for download on Amazon.
A. D. Lawrence makes her home in northeastern Nebraska. She has been passionate about writing and true crime for years, and her two obsessions melded into the goal of authorship. She is an active member of the ACFW, writes a true crime blog, won the 2019 Crown Award, and was a 2019 First Impressions finalist.
True Colors. True Crime.
The Silver Shadow (May 2021)
by Liz Tolsma
Denver of 1900 is still a dangerous place to be following the silver crash of 1893. And of out of the dark comes a shadow intent on harming women. Ambitious young Denver newspaper reporter Polly Blythe is searching for the big story that’s going to launch her career. On Friday evening, August 24, 1900, she gets her break when two women are cracked over the head within a two-minute walk of each other. But policeman Edwin Timmer thwarts Polly’s ideas of a serial criminal … until the shadowy figure strikes again. Will the reporter and the policeman team up to find the culprit before he strikes too close for comfort?
Paperback / 978-1-64352-834-2 / $12.99
The Scarlet Pen (July 2021)
by Jennifer Uhlarik
Enjoy a tale of true but forgotten history of an 19th Century serial killer whose silver-tongued ways almost trap a young woman into a nightmarish marriage.
In 1876, Emma Draycott is charmed into a quick engagement with Stephen Dee Richardson after meeting him at a church event in Mount Pleasant, Ohio. But within the week, Stephen leaves to “make his fame and fortune.” The heartbroken Emma gives him a special fountain pen to write to her, and he does with tales of grand adventures. Secret Service agent Clay Timmons arrives in Mount Pleasant to track purchases made with fake currency. Every trail leads back to Stephen—and therefore, Emma. Can he convince the naïve woman she is engaged to a charlatan who is being linked a string of deaths in Nebraska?
Paperback / 978-1-64352-929-5 / $12.99
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