One Small Cemetery: Book 1: Kellie's Story

By Steven Rubcic

One Small Cemetery, Book One: Kellie’s Story in the first book of a true crime series, immersing the reader in the investigation of the brutal homicide of 15 year old Kellie Wyckhuyse. She was scheduled to testify against a local reputed drug dealer when she disappeared and lay mutilated in a shallow grave for over a year until a young deputy and his mentor were led to a desolate hillside in rural Uinta County, Wyoming.
Even though a renowned defense attorney who had been appointed special prosecutor suspected him of collaborating with a murderer, the young sheriff’s deputy devoted over 20 years to solving a series of inexorably intertwined homicides and bring peace to the spirits of the dead; or perhaps more importantly, to bring a measure of peace to himself.
To this day the author, Steve Rubcic, is in many ways haunted by events that occurred over his quarter century career in Wyoming law enforcement. Transformed over the years from a rookie officer in 1974 into a seasoned investigator and beyond, Steve spent the majority of his career embroiled in the investigation into the deaths of five innocent victims.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jun 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781483567310

Book preview

AUTHOR

PROLOGUE

ONE SMALL CEMETERY

It sits atop a secluded knoll, surrounded by trees and overlooking a small stream. The actual cemetery encompasses an area half the size of a football field. In winter it can appear bleak and foreboding, especially at night. Summer brings green grass and trees in full bloom; outwardly, a place of comfort and peace. With a population of two hundred plus souls in residence, it is rather typical for a small rural cemetery. What isn’t typical is the relationship several of the residents have with one another.

For twenty-five years, fifteen year-old Kellie Wyckhuyse, brutally murdered and sexually mutilated, was alone in the cold ground of this small cemetery. For most of those years she had nothing more than a simple metal plate, with her name and the dates, to mark her passing; not much better than the hastily dug, unmarked badlands grave, in which her body was abandoned for over a year. In 1976, Kellie was scheduled to testify against a local drug dealer when she was kidnapped and murdered. Some time back, her mother, who now rests close to her, managed to mark Kellie’s final resting place with a beautifully engraved headstone. Spend time by her grave and you, as many others have, will soon be overcome with what can only be described as a tragic, restless sense of loss. Some claim they can hear her pleas for mercy when the night is still and the moon is full, as it was on the night her lifeless body was desecrated…

Well known and respected area ranchers have numerous ancestors within the bounds of the cemetery. While he has yet to meet his maker, one rancher will one day most certainly find his final home within mere ear shot of Kellie’s. He used a homemade thirty stick dynamite bomb to kill a prominent area attorney, Vincent Vehar, and his family in 1977. One year earlier, at the simple request of a friend, he smashed the life out of little Kellie, by crushing her skull with a large rock. Just killing Kellie wasn’t good enough; he then cut the most private parts from her battered remains, stuffed them in an old rubber boot and carried his trophy out of the badlands. He continues to reside at his family home in Bridger Valley. One has to ask, Has justice been served?

The Green family plot is there with husband and wife, Clifford and Loretta, buried side by side. Just to the east of them, their son Jeff’s grave can be located. Jeff followed his father but preceded his mother in death. A close friend of the rancher, he was the victim of a brutal torture homicide in 1979. He was scheduled to testify about the bombing and Kellie’s murder in front of a local Grand Jury when he was kidnapped from his mother’s home. His badly tortured body was found three days later, thrown in a rest area ditch close to the peaceful little valley where he was raised. His actual killers have yet to be brought to justice. Much the same as at Kellie’s grave, one can be overwhelmed by a restless, tragic feeling when visiting Jeff.

Mark Hopkinson’s remains found their way to this small cemetery in 2002. Mark was executed at the Wyoming State Penitentiary in 1992 for contracting the kidnapping and torture murder of Jeff Green. Mark was also convicted of hiring a local rancher to bomb the Vehar family. After his mother’s death, Mark’s remains were secretly placed in her casket. She was buried next to her husband in the Northwest section of the cemetery. Shortly thereafter a plain stone marker for Mark was placed adjacent to theirs. Cold, frightful and sinister emotions overcome most who visit this spot.

The grave of a veteran deputy sheriff, Jim Watson, occupies one of the upper most points in the cemetery. Jim helped deal with many of the tormented spirits in this small cemetery and it is as though he is keeping watch and protecting the spirits of those in need at this, his eternal duty assignment. His presence surely brings comfort to most that stop by and spend a few precious moments with him.

From time to time the retired Sheriff’s Investigator visits. He makes his way to each marker and ponders thoughts known only to him. Usually his first stop is at Kellie’s grave. Invariably he apologizes because of the blame he places upon himself for her fate. He is the one who convinced her mother to have her testify. He is the one who, in his mind, failed to protect her. Sometimes he hears her speak but not as clearly as when he visits her gravesite in the badlands. Next the retired investigator approaches Jeff’s grave. He was first on the scene when Jeff’s body was found and headed the investigation into his murder. His mind tells him he also failed Jeff because the actual killers have never been brought to justice. Jeff tells him many things…After leaving Jeff’s grave, he checks in with Jim, always his friend and backup in years past. He draws strength and some measure of courage from visiting Jim.

Finally he strides with defiant purpose toward Hopkinson’s marker. Now that he has found his grave, one day he will fulfill the promise he made…but not tonight…For tonight, it is all he can do to fight off the ghosts. As he leaves, they surge forth, as if summoned by some kind of evil and cast from the depths of hell…

One Small Cemetery is a true crime account of drugs, greed and friendship that led to betrayal, torture and multiple murders in a small rural area of southwestern Wyoming. Visit the cemetery where the spirits of the victims, their families and murderers will spend eternity; it exists. Stand by the graves and experience for yourself. Read the series; discover the truth…

1

In the early 1970’s, Southwestern Wyoming was in the throes of a full fledged mineral boom. This time it wasn’t gold, coal or even oil. Gold was a prominent mineral in the late 1800’s in the Wind River Range some 200 miles to the northeast and back then there were scattered coal mines in the area that provided fuel for the railroad. In the not too distant future, oil would dominate and forever change the face of Western Wyoming. However, for the next few years one small county was immersed in the overflow of transient construction workers. They were developing underground mines some 1600 feet below the sage covered prairie surface of Wyoming’s high desert. Huge deposits of a white, powdery mineral known as Soda Ash had been discovered; the only known deposits in the country and some said the largest in the world. Trona as it is called by those in the business, is one of the primary ingredients in glass. It is also used in detergents and good old baking soda is a prominent byproduct. This was the beginning of an era that would leave an indelible mark on our small Western Wyoming communities and the honest simple people who made their living on the surrounding ranches, small businesses and schools.

Uinta County is split into two distinct geographic areas. To the west you have the county seat, Evanston, which is situated on the Wyoming / Utah state line. On the eastern side of the county is the Bridger Valley. The Valley, as it is commonly referred to by locals, is approximately 35 miles east of Evanston and is comprised of three smaller primary communities; Lyman, Mountain View and Fort Bridger.

Uinta County

Evanston was founded in 1869 by the Union Pacific Railroad. It was named after railroad surveyor James A. Evans. Nestled in the Bear River Valley, it has always enjoyed a diverse heritage. In the 1800’s and early 1900’s Evanston had a relatively high population of Chinese immigrants who were used as railroad and coal mine laborers. It was a rough and tumble little railroad town and the old county jail had once housed notorious bad guys such as Big Nosed George, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. It is rumored that in 1885, the city fathers were once given a choice; they could be the site of the University of Wyoming or have the honor of housing the Insane Asylum as it was called at the time. They purportedly chose the latter and by 1887 the first building had been erected and dedicated. On a side note, in 1886, Laramie, Wyoming was chosen as the site of the University of Wyoming. Oft-times the wisdom of Evanston’s choice has been cussed and discussed. The population in 1890 was officially listed as 1,995 but it is believed the Chinese immigrants were not counted.

Eighty years later, in 1970, the official census recorded a population of 4,462 for Evanston. It hadn’t grown much in size or economic stability. The town’s primary employers were the Wyoming State Hospital and Uinta County government. City officials were hoping the anticipated boom would have a positive economic effect on the city, as well as the county. The town’s economy depended somewhat on its close proximity to Interstate 80 and the trade of tourists traveling through on their way to Yellowstone National Park or Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area. It had the usual run of businesses; a couple of auto dealerships, parts stores, furniture stores and restaurants.

Most were family owned businesses at least two generations old. There were a few motels and one old hotel which also served as the local bus stop. Oh yes and bars, plenty of bars. Before the interstate skirted the edge of town, Front Street was a part of the old Lincoln Highway that ran through the city. Completed in 1913, the Lincoln Highway was the first transcontinental highway that ran from New York to Los Angeles. Front Street had the restaurants, bars and hotels. Drugs were rapidly becoming a major issue with marijuana and cocaine being the drugs of choice. Other than the burgeoning drug problem, the fifteen man police department handled things well, for the most part. They dealt with the occasional domestic disturbance, bar fight or drunk driver; homicides and other crimes of violence were rare. Like every western city they had their traditional celebrations; Evanston celebrated Cowboy Days. Every year on the first weekend of September Evanston changed. The town came alive with fireworks, parades, rodeos and parties. The bars were allowed to stay open 24 hours a day for three days and Front Street was blocked off to all except emergency vehicles. During this weekend the city always experienced an influx of tourists, mostly from the Utah’s Wasatch Front. The cops all worked till they literally dropped and then after a couple of hours sleep were back at it again. Misdemeanor arrests for fighting, drunk driving and drug possession were the most common problems encountered.

The ranching communities of Bridger Valley had a few problems of their own. No one knew what a locked door was and crime was not a major issue as of yet. Drugs were just beginning to impact the valley youth and alcohol related crimes were on the rise. The usual toughs in the bars went at it mostly on Saturday nights. There was the occasional vandalism or burglary to be investigated.

As with Evanston, the Lincoln highway made its way through Lyman and Fort Bridger as well; with Mountain View just three miles to the South. When Interstate 80 was completed, the valley towns were bypassed. With the Interstate available most travelers saw no need to take the old highway unless they were planning a trip to Flaming Gorge or had a desire to visit the State Historical Site in Fort Bridger. Many valley businesses were on their last legs and beginning to suffer. No one had realized exactly how much they depended on the highway traffic to help with their day to day business operations. There were no vacant businesses or boarded up buildings yet, but that was coming.

Lyman’s main street had a small conglomeration of businesses. There was an implement company and small mercantile store. The bus stop was also in Lyman. It had two small, two story hotels and two motels. There were also two restaurants and a drive-in burger joint. A couple of gas stations and a garage / wrecker service were spaced along the street. Much to the chagrin of this predominately Mormon community boasting a population barely four hundred, there were two bars, Johns Bar and the Charolaise Inn. The Charolaise had one of the motels and a restaurant attached. Actually it seemed like almost everything in Lyman came in two’s or three’s except for the cops. In the early ‘70s there was only the town marshal. That too was about to change.

Mountain View was more agricultural than Lyman and also had an implement company with a small gas station. There was a drive-in restaurant and two small Mom and Pop restaurants. A grocery and mercantile combination store sat in the middle of town across from the school. Mt. View had the only bank in the valley, along with the local phone company. It was also the home of the Cowboy Bar and a liquor store; both on the same block. Their population was around three hundred and they had no police officers. At the time they depended entirely on the sheriff’s office for law enforcement services.

Six miles to the northwest was Fort Bridger; established in 1842 as a trading post by the famous mountain man Jim Bridger and his partner, Louis Vasquez, on the Blacks Forks River; a tributary of the Green River. During the fort’s history it served as a trading post for the immigrants traveling west. Between 1853 and 1856 it was controlled by the Mormon Militia and became an integral part of the Mormon settlement plan. In 1857 the U.S. Army occupied the fort after the Mormon’s burned and abandoned it. It remained a military reservation until 1890 when the military relinquished control and left the area. By 1972 the actual fort grounds were gradually being restored and had been a part of the Fort Bridger Historical site since 1923. The fort had a museum and a few restored buildings open for visitors. As in Lyman, the Old Lincoln Highway doubled as the main street and it was lined with a few businesses. Across from the fort sat a restaurant and several cabins that were once a part of the original military stables. On the same side of the highway a second motel and restaurant had been constructed. Up the street from that was an old two story hotel and one of the two bars with an adjoining restaurant. The second bar, Pete’s, was directly across the street from the first. There was a small trading post and a garage just down the street from Pete’s Bar. At that time the village of Fort Bridger had a population of approximately one hundred fifty stalwart citizens.

Evanston had their Cowboy Days and Fort Bridger hosted the Mountain Man Rendezvous. It was held on the same weekend as Evanston’s celebration. In the early ‘70s it was a relatively new celebration to the valley but was growing by leaps and bounds. It was a wild time for all; participants and spectators alike. Traders set up shop and sold or traded period wares from black powder rifles to beads, tomahawks, all manner of 1840s clothing, moccasins, knives, tanned leather, furs and more. Modern day mountain men and traders raised tipis, wall tents and canvas lean-tos in a primitive camping area. They had live fire shooting competitions, knife and tomahawk throwing contests as well as others. And, as in Evanston, the valley bars were allowed to remain open twenty four hours a day for three days. The mountain men pretty well policed themselves so the locals and tourists were the biggest problems for law enforcement. Local partiers were joined by tourists attracted to the celebration; all looking for a chance to let their hair down. Add to that mix an ever growing group of outlaw motorcycle gang attendees and serious trouble was inevitable.

The County Sheriff and his deputies were charged with enforcing the law for the outlying unincorporated