Fiction

Forbidden Love Conclusion

A Sunny Alexander-Johnson and Henry James Series By P.G. & Sharon Barnett

My name is Sunny Alexander-Johnson, and I’m Henry James, and we’re writers for Dark Sides of the Truth Magazine.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

By the time we reached the road which led to the Garrett family cemetery, and finally, the cabin, the haze of evening dusk had thickened into mottled shades of grey.

Parked in front of the cabin was a late model sedan, we assumed belonging to Ginney Buchanan. What was interesting was there wasn’t a single light on inside we could see from our vantage point.

On the way, Charlie instructed us to stay in the car, so we sat in Charlie’s unmarked and watched as he, Ruben, Harvey, and several police officers got out of their vehicles and approached the cabin.

“Henry, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m getting out so I can see what in tarnation’s going on.”

“Charlie said to wait in the car.”

“The way I heard it, it was just a suggestion, princess. You want to stay in the car and miss out on all this suit yourself.”

“Oh no. Somebody’s got to keep your crotchety ass out of trouble.”

As we got out of Charlie’s squad car, taking care to close the doors as gently as possible, we watched Charlie place his hand on the handle of the cabin door and pause. He turned his head and gestured to two officers, then pointed to his left, then twisted around to another pair of officers gestured to his right.

With a curt nod, he opened the door at the same time announcing his presence.

“Austin Police Department!”

The officers rushed into the cabin, and although we were told to stay in the car, curiosity got the better of us. We were almost to the porch when Charlie and a couple of police officers exited the cabin.

“I thought I told you two to stay in the car.”

“You did Charlie, but we like to snoop, remember? What’s going on?”

“We found the woman.”

Charlie turned to one of the officers.

“Get EMT out here now. Give ’em GPS coordinates.”

As the officer reached up and queued his microphone button, Charlie turned to another police officer.

“Have somebody stay with her. And untie her from the bed and cover her with a blanket or something for God’s sake. Tell the rest to fan out and start looking for Buchanan. Her victim is still alive, so it’s a safe bet she’s going to come back and finish the job.”

“Charlie, come on man, throw us a bone here. What the hell’s going on?”

“The woman who went missing Thursday night, Henry? She was naked as a jaybird with her hands and feet tied to the bedposts. All kinds of sex paraphernalia were on the bed. She was barely breathing, and I’m guessing Buchanan drugged her.”

“No sign of Buchanan?”

Charlie Alvarez shook his head and was about to answer when his radio squawked.

“Detective, we found her.”

“Copy that. Where was she?”

“In the cemetery.”

Charlie’s face twisted into a scowl.

“Say again?”

“We found her at the back of the cemetery, sir. She was digging a hole.”

“Alright, read her her rights and get her handcuffed and in the back of a squad.”

“Roger that, sir.”

“Oh my God, Charlie. She wasn’t digging a hole. She was digging a grave.”

“Yeah, it looks that way, Sunny.”

“Sunny are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

“Yes, Henry. I think she killed all six of those girls and buried them in Garrett Cemetery. All these years, she was hiding those bodies in plain sight.”

“Damn Johnson, you’re probably right. I mean who’s going to question a fresh grave in a cemetery?”

“Okay, look, you two. The cabin and the cemetery are both active crime scenes now. I’m going to have one of the officers take you two back to Dark Sides. We’re going process Buchanan tonight. If I miss my guess, she’s going to lawyer up real quick, so we need to make sure we have enough evidence to make this stick.”

“How long before you question her?”

“Probably going to be Monday, Henry. Let me guess. You two want to be there?”

“Oh hell yeah, Charlie. We wouldn’t miss this one for the world.”

“Okay, I’ll give you guys a call.”

Rather than wait for Detective Alvarez’s phone call, we met first thing Monday morning in the parking garage across the street from police headquarters. We were sitting in the third-floor waiting area when Charlie walked in. He didn’t seem a bit surprised to see us.

“Couldn’t wait for my call, huh? Okay, come on.”

We followed Charlie down a hallway, then turned left down another and stopped in front of a pair of matching doors about ten feet apart. Charlie opened the door on our right and stepped in.

Once inside the room, we all faced a large square of glass, which allowed a clear view into another room where a large rectangle overhead fluorescent light cast harsh synthetic light upon a table with several chairs around it.

Charlie pointed to a switch on the wall next to the glass.

“You guys familiar with how this works?”

“Yeap, not our first rodeo Charlie.”

“I’ll bet Henry. Okay. You two just sit tight. The show’s gonna start any minute now.”

When two guards led Ginney Buchanan, manacled at the hands and feet, into the room, we were stunned at how much she looked like the photo we’d discovered. Although much older, her hairstyle was the same and still a vibrant strawberry blonde completely overpowering her orange jumpsuit.

Where in the photo of her she’d been smiling, she wasn’t now, her facial expression a strange combination of awareness of what was happening, but complete indifference.

As if in her mind, she was someplace different altogether.

Behind her, another woman approximately the same age followed. Wearing business attire and carrying a patent leather satchel, she sat next to Ginney. When Ruben, Harvey, and Charlie walked into the room, the woman clad in the business suit stood and shook their hands.

“Detectives.”

“So you’re representing Miss Buchanan then?”

“Yes. I’m Rebecca Hartfield. Her father asked for my help. I must say these charges are a little far fetched. I suppose Miss Buchanan could be charged for criminal trespass for digging a hole in a family cemetery, but kidnapping, murder, and attempted murder? Come on, Detective Alvarez, let’s get real here.”

Charlie, Ruben, and Harvey each took a turn offering the evidence, all the dates, how Ginney’s residence in the cabin correlated with the disappearance of each young woman.

“All circumstantial at best.”

“Ah wait, counselor. We’re just getting started. Ruben?”

“Miss Hartfield…”

“Mrs.”

“Uh, Mrs. Hartfield. We discovered the bodies and have a positive ID on all six girls who’d gone missing over the years. Don’t you think it’s strange your client would be digging a hole in the same cemetery where we found the missing girls?”

The lawyer drew a breath in to reply, but Harvey cut her off.

“Uh before you say something you’ll probably regret, you may want to take a look at these.”

One by one, the detective placed six photographs in a line on the table. Although we could barely see them, the reaction from the attorney told us they were probably disgusting.

“Yeah, that’s your client Mrs. Hartfield. Laying nude in the bed with each victim who is nude as well. We found Ms. Buchanan’s little trophies locked in a metal box in the back of a storage cabinet in the shed behind the cabin. Even back then, taking selfies seemed the thing to do. And before you start spouting about photo doctoring. These were taken with a Polaroid One Step. Ain’t no photoshopping gonna happen. Take a look at the back.”

Rebecca Hartfield reluctantly reached out and flipped one of the photographs over.

“Now read what you see there aloud.”

“Me and GS 12/2000”

“Right “me” being your client. GS stands for the name of the girl in the picture Gloria Salitos. She disappeared in December of two thousand. Oh, and her body was found in Garrett cemetery, just like all the rest. We believe we have all we need to get a needle stuck in your client’s arm.”

The lawyer nodded and kept her silence, and we all watched as Ginney Buchanan eased her manacled hands across the table and picked up the overturned photo, caressing it as if it were the most precious thing in the entire world to her. She carefully turned the picture over and stared at it, a small smile forming on her lips, tears forming in both eyes.

“None of them would listen. They all wanted to leave me. They all wanted to leave, and I couldn’t let them leave. Not like mamma did. Of all of them, my little Gloria was the best. I loved her the best.”

“Detectives? A word outside, please.”

We immediately left and stood in the hallway, waiting for the lawyer and the detectives to file out of the interrogation room. Barely into the hall, Rebecca Hartfield turned and addressed the three men.

“Gentlemen, I’m afraid I’m going to have to recuse myself in this case.”

“What? Why?”

“Two reasons Detective Alvarez. First, my wife and I have struggled for years because of our sexual preferences. It was only five years ago same-sex marriage in Texas became legal. What that horrible creature did to those young women is an abomination and will do nothing but create just cause in the minds of some evangelical right-wing idiots. And secondly, there is no way in hell, any competent lawyer is going to win a “life without parole” on this case unless they try the mentally incapacitated route, which might just work. That woman is a certifiable nut job.”

We all stood in silence as the woman spun on her heels and walked away.

Charlie nodded in agreement, then turned to us.

“Well, I would have never thought it possible. Not only did you two find Gloria Salitos, but you just cleared six cold cases in one fell swoop. Unbelievable.”

“We’re going to quote you on this story, Charlie. You know that, right?”

“Wouldn’t put it past you, Henry. Again thank you two.”

“Come on, Henry, we’ve got a story to finish.”

“Right there with ya, princess.”

*Author’s note: The inclusion of mirror writing in this story was an idea we cooked up based on Sharon’s ability to, at will, write anything backward. As a child, and now as an adult, she still has the ability. We hope you readers got as much a kick out of reading this story as we did writing it.

Thank you so much for reading. You didn’t have to, but we’re certainly glad you did.

Let’s keep in touch: Sharon & Paul — [email protected]