The Abductors: Murder on the High Plains

By Richard Lippard

When people are found murdered and others begin to disappear in Sunland, New Mexico, and El Paso, Texas, the FBI calls in John Burton and Sally Martin. People have been disappearing at an alarming rate. No trace of the missing people has been found, no clues are forthcoming, and there are no hints of foul play. They just…disappear. With nothing to go on, John and Sally must find the missing link, the common denominator, even as the numbers grow. Coupled with this, a former member of John’s Special Forces unit, whom John had transferred out of his unit back in Vietnam for conduct unbecoming, must aid them in their search. The man is now the chief of police in Sunland Park. Roger Haskell is not happy to see his former squad leader, and the resentment grows while the two men are forced to work together. As the numbers grow and the dead bodies increase, John and Sally must use all their wits and all their knowledge to stop whoever is responsible.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Nov 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662452857

Book preview

Chapter 1

Monday, August 1, 1990

First-Class Sergeant Retiree Roger Haskell stepped off the bus in El Paso, Texas, into a sweltering August afternoon. He waited for the driver to unload all the baggage from underneath the coach and then picked up his Army-green duffel bag, walked over to a bench, placed the bag at the end of the bench, and sat down. The bus was twenty minutes early, and his ride hadn’t arrived yet. He slowly turned his head, surveying his surroundings. It had been nine years since he had been back here, nine years since his sister Sarah had married his close friend Cody Brewster. Since that time, a lot had happened. Sarah and Cody had become parents. More importantly, dating back to his return from Vietnam in 1975, Roger Haskell slowly but meticulously rose in rank until he had maxed out as an E-7 in the Army’s Special Forces branch. Roger decided to retire after twenty years of service. It had been two years since he had gotten the call from his brother-in-law that his sister and niece had been killed in an automobile accident. Roger and his sister had been close. In fact, Roger had been best man at Cody and Sarah’s wedding, and Roger was the baby’s godfather in absentia. He had never met the little girl but had a photo-snapshot book filled with pictures of her. She was adorable and looked just like her mommy. Roger’s eyes filled with tears as he thought of Sarah and how proud and happy she was of their little bundle of joy.

Roger Haskell was an advanced weapons instructor at Fort Benning Army base six miles southeast of Columbus, Georgia, for the last eight years of his enlistment. His specialties were involved in the training of snipers for the Army’s Special Forces unit and in hand-to-hand combat training. He was six feet two inches tall and weighed two hundred fifteen pounds. There was not an extra ounce of fat on his well-sculptured body. He was a killing machine, knowledgeable in Israeli, Japanese, American, and Russian Spetsnaz hand-to-hand combat techniques. He had a reputation that spanned the entire Special Forces division both inside America and across the world. He could disarm an enemy soldier and kill him before that person could pull the trigger to a weapon held against his head. He was that fast. This feat had been demonstrated countless times in his introduction to self-defense classes at Benning. This, then, was the man sitting on the bench awaiting his ride.

Twenty minutes later, his brother-in-law, Cory Brewster, pulled up in front of the bench and rolled down the window. Hello, soldier! Welcome home. Toss your bag in the back seat and hop in.

Roger did as he was instructed, and Cory took off. It took twenty minutes to arrive at the house, and by then, Roger had given his friend and brother-in-law a rundown of his bus trip from Georgia to El Paso.

Let me get you settled in the guest room, and then we’ll have a beer. You hungry? Cory asked.

I’m good. A cold one sounds good though.

Coming right up.

Roger dropped his duffel on the bed in the guest room and followed Cory into the kitchen. Together they took their Lone Stars out to the back porch and sat down on matching chaise lounges facing an above-ground swimming pool and a six-foot-high cedar fence that provided privacy for the backyard. Cory was the same age as Roger, although some thirty pounds lighter. They had both played high school football together at the local high school. Roger had been a running back, and Cory a wide receiver. Roger had gone into the Army after graduation. Cory had gone to work in his father’s hardware store. He was now its owner and manager. Their lives had taken dramatically different turns, but they had stayed in touch and remained friends. It helped that they both loved the same girl. So what are your plans, Roger? Cory asked.

I’ve got an interview Wednesday with the Sunland Park Police Department. Chief Garcia is retiring next year. I thought I might try law enforcement. Maybe replace him as the new chief.

Shit, man! What do you know about law enforcement? Seems like all you did in high school was get into trouble. If I remember correctly, you had a choice between jail time and the Army back then.

Roger took a long pull from his Lone Star before he answered, "That was a long time ago, Cory, and besides, the Army straightened my ass out a long time ago. Anyway, outside of guns and hand-to-hand, I really don’t know much anything else. Thought I’d give police work a try. Who knows?"

Well, good luck to you, my friend.

There was an awkward silence before Roger asked, So, Cory, how are you holding up? And what can I do to help?

Nothing much, but thanks for asking.

Sorry I wasn’t able to make it back for the funeral. I’d like to see the grave site though, if that’s all right with you.

I can take you by tomorrow if you want.

I’d like that.

They finished their drinks, and Cory went inside to retrieve two more. Roger took a long draw and looked down at the bottle. You want to tell me about the accident?

"Not much to tell really. Fuckin’ illegal wetback had been drinking—they say his blood alcohol level was 2.8 when he hit her. Sumbitch had three DUIs on his record, three, Roger! And no license. And still, that fucker was drivin’! Trial’s set to begin in two weeks. I wish they’d hang that bastard."

Cory began to cry, and Roger reached over and put his hand on the man’s arm and squeezed. When Cory was all cried out, he wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve and apologized. Sorry, Roger. It…it just hurts…it just hurts so much, man. I loved her with all my heart. And Emily? She was the sunshine that lit up my day. And now they are both gone. It’s really hard to get out of bed in the morning. I reach over to touch Sarah, and she’s not there. I walk by Emily’s room and stop, knowing that she’s no longer there either. I haven’t opened her bedroom door since the funeral. I’m afraid I’ll go nuts if I do.

Roger looked over at his friend, seeing the tears streaming down his cheeks, but said nothing. Roger had lost friends in battle and had wept for them, but it was nothing like this. He’d lost his sister and a niece he’d never met, but the grief he felt now, seeing Cory’s tears, was so much more than what he’d felt in the past. Even the death of his parents had not affected him like this.

They finished their second beers, and Cory stood up. He tossed the empty bottle into the backyard, where it bounced off the lawn but did not break. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Cory walked to the corner of the yard, put his arm up on the fence, leaned his head onto it, and cried some more loud sobs and with much shaking of the shoulders. Roger let him cry while he thought about the injustice of it all. If only…, he thought.

The next morning, the two men stopped at a florist shop and bought flowers for Sarah and Emily and drove to the cemetery. They laid their flowers on the ground in front of the graves and stood silently, shoulder to shoulder. Roger reached up and put his arm around his friend’s neck and drew him close, and together they said their goodbyes to the two loved ones.

Chapter 2

Wednesday morning, Roger rose early, showered, shaved, and dressed in a dark-blue suit with a white shirt and red and blue striped tie. He wore spit-shined black wingtips and his freshly cut military-style haircut finished off his military bearing. He’d rented a Ford Taurus to drive to Sunland Park, New Mexico. Roger picked up his keys and other essentials and went into the kitchen, where the aroma of fresh coffee, bacon and eggs awaited him. The two men sat down and devoured the breakfast. I’m glad you’re here, Roger. I think I’ll be able to pick up the pieces now. God knows it’s been tough. I’ve just been going through the motions at the store. Now I’m ready to dig in and get back to work, Cory said.

Good for you, Cory.

What time do you think you’ll be home?

Roger raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes. I have no idea. Depends on how the interview goes. I may come straight home here, or I may take a look around Sunland, maybe do a little apartment or house hunting. I don’t know. Probably play it by ear. I’ll call you if I think it’s going to be past dinner time.

Sunland Park, New Mexico, was only eight and a half miles from El Paso. Actually it was twelve miles from Cory’s house, and Roger arrived at the police station a half hour early. He was greeted at the front door and shown to a bench in the waiting room. Ten minutes later, he was escorted back to the chief’s office. Behind the desk sat an older man with a full head of pure white hair combed back over his ears. Chief Ronaldo Garcia stood and offered his hand as Roger approached the desk, and Roger took it. The grip was firm. The hand was dry. Garcia released the grip and pointed to one of the two chairs facing his desk. Sit, sit, my boy. Coffee? Water?

No, thank you, sir. I’m fine. Roger unbuttoned his suit coat and sat across from the man, smoothing his pant trousers as he did so. He sat ramrod straight on the front edge of his chair.

Relax, Sgt. Haskell, relax. I’ve read over your file. He held it up and waved it at the man and then purposely put it down and squared it off in front of him.

Roger noticed that he kept an immaculate desk. There was a large desk pad in front of him with a calendar printed on it. Roger noticed that most days had markings in the squares, and today’s date had Roger’s name and a large red inked circle around his name. There was also a phone, a Rolodex file, and two silver framed pictures, one on each corner of the desk. The rest of the desk was bare. The desk itself was made of dark mahogany, and it was polished to a gleaming finish. Behind him was a credenza. On it were a computer tower, a printer and fax machine, and two three-tier desk filing organizers.

Very impressive, Sergeant, very impressive. I did notice though, that a lot of it has been redacted. Can you comment on that?

"Sir, as you can see, I was a member of the Army’s Special Forces—Green Berets, if you will. A lot of my assignments were confidential…secret…top secret…and as such, I’m afraid I can’t comment further."

Capt. Garcia nodded and leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. The chair groaned at the movement. So Vietnam. Africa. Several locations blacked out. You’ve killed?

Roger just stared at him.

Of course you have. Stupid question. Stupid. Ah, when I talked with you before, I said that it may take several hours, depending on my first impression of you. How much time do you have today? Do you have anything else on your schedule?

Sir. No, sir.

Good. And while we are alone, you can call me Ron. Or Chief. Whatever. Sir or Chief will work when we’re around other people.

Yes, sir.

The chief grinned at that. Good. Now Officer Stark will give you a bunch of forms to fill out, but they should not take too long. Twenty years pretty much covers your employment history, and I’ll just attach the file with the questionnaire. After you’re finished, I’ll take you lunch, then I’d like to come back here. We have a psych exam scheduled for two this afternoon, and if we have time afterward, I’d like to pick your brain. I’ve got two more interviews set up this week before I make my decision. Then I’ll have to give my recommendations to the city council, so we’re looking at a week to ten days before any decisions are made. Is that a problem?

Sir. No, sir.

Ronaldo grinned. Sheila!

Chief? The woman appeared immediately at the door to the office.

Take Sgt. Haskell into the conference room and give him the questionnaire folder. Get him coffee, water, juice, or a Coke if he chooses and get him settled.

Yes, sir. Sheila Stark led him to the back of the office and showed him to a room with a long conference table surrounded by fourteen chairs. He took a seat, and she placed a file folder in front of him. Something to drink?

Water would be fine.

Sheila left and returned seconds later with a cold bottle of water and a coaster. And then she left without saying anything else. Roger opened the file. Inside were nine separate pages of questions printed on both sides. He immediately noticed that several were highlighted with a yellow marker. There was a note attached, instructing him that he only needed to fill out the highlighted questions. In front of him was a glass with several pens and pencils sticking out of it. Roger picked out a pen and went to work. Thirty-five minutes later, he was finished. He stood and turned to the door. Immediately, Officer Stark was at the door and took the folder from him. She told him that he could wait in the conference room or go back to the bench to wait. His choice. How ’bout out front? I’d like to get a feel for the office. If that’s all right.

Suits me.

He followed her back out to the front and took a seat. There were four desks behind the counter, and three were occupied by two men and one woman. Roger assumed that Sheila occupied the one closest to the captain’s office, and he was correct. Of the two male officers, one looked young enough to still be in high school. The other male looked to be in his early to midfifties. The other female was probably in her forties, fairly attractive, and with a blonde ponytail. She sat closest to the copier fax machine. It started spewing paper as Roger sat down, and she immediately stood and walked over to the machine to collect its contents. Five minutes later, Roger looked up and saw Chief Garcia stand, exit the office, and approach him, putting on a white Stetson hat as he came near.

C’mon Roger, let’s go across the street to the diner and grab us some lunch.

He had Roger’s file under his arm as they crossed the floor and exited. They walked across the street and entered a stainless steel-sided long and narrow lunch diner. To the right side as they entered were tables for four lined up under six large windows. There were eight of them. Across the aisle to the left of the aisle was a lunch counter with ten stools. Chief, a woman greeted from behind the counter.

Delores, he answered, just the two of us today. He led Roger to the end of the aisle and took a seat, facing back up the aisle. Roger sat across from him with his back to the aisle. He felt a little uncomfortable about this but said nothing. Chief Garcia noticed his discomfort and made a mental note. That’s a plus, he thought. Garcia recommended the chili rellenos, and Roger nodded. Delores brought a bowl of salsa and some warm tortilla chips and placed them in front of the two men. Garcia ordered a Tecate, and Roger ordered unsweetened iced tea with lemon. The chief opened the folder and looked at the answers to the questions that his guest had answered. Roger sat there in silence. When the drinks arrived, Rolando reached for a chip, dipped it into the bowl of salsa, and stuffed it into his mouth. He washed it down with the cold beer, drinking straight from the bottle. I made a call to Fort Benning while you were filling out the questionnaire. Talked to a Colonel Roach. Had nothing but praise for your work ethic. Follows orders, first in line to volunteer. Highly qualified in both handguns and rifles. Deadly—his word—with his hands. Adaptable to all kinds of situations. High praise I must say.

Roger just stared at him.

Ronaldo took another chip with salsa and bit down on it. It snapped on his lips. Not much of a talker, are you?

Well, sir, I…

I know, the shy, bashful type. I like that.

There was a slight smile from Roger.

Son? Let me be straight with you. I like you. If I had my way, I would hire you right now. But I still have those other two to go. Quite frankly, you still have one drawback. But it’s a big one. You…ah…you have no previous police experience.

No, sir, but—

Garcia raised his hand and cut him off. What you lack in police experience and the law you more than make up for in leadership qualities. I’m going to recommend to the board that I bring you on as an assistant chief of police. I will train you over the next six months, and you will take classes in law enforcement. If I have to, I will extend my duties for another six months to assure that you are ready when I retire. Does that work for you?

Delores came to the table, wearing two mittens and carrying two hot plates, which she set down before the two men. Be careful, gentlemen, these plates are hot. She looked at the chief’s bottle. Another?

Si.

Roger hadn’t touched his iced tea but held it, slowly rotating it with his two hands. Delores moved off, leaving the two men alone. Roger waited until she was gone and then said, Sir, I don’t know just what to say…except yes. That works for me. And, sir? I truly appreciate your faith and confidence in me. I won’t disappoint you.

"I’m sure you won’t. As I said, I still have these other two to see, and unless one of them really jumps out and impresses me, you’ll be hearing from me probably by next Tuesday or Wednesday. Then we go before the council. I’m going to have to do a sales job on them, but you leave that up to me. Now, all you need to do is pass that psych exam."

I’ll do my best, sir.

I’m sure you will.

Roger called Cory to let him know he was on his way. He arrived home at just after five thirty that afternoon. They sat down to grilled steaks and store-bought potato salad and raspberry Jell-O on the back patio, and Roger told him about his day.

That’s great, Roger! So you’re welcome to stay here as long as you want. I’ve got the room, and—

"Maybe for a little while, Cory. At least until I’m settled in over there. If I get the job, that is. I’ve got some gear in storage back at Benning that I’d like to get shipped out here, and this is as good a place as any to keep it for now if you have a little extra space."

No problem. Consider it done. They raised their Lone Stars and tapped them together.

Thursday of the following week, Roger got the phone call from the chief. "Can you be here Monday morning at nine? We’ve got an interview with the board at nine thirty. They want to get a look at you before making their decision.

I’ll be there.

Chapter 3

Monday, August 8

Roger and the chief of police walked into the city hall at nine fifteen Monday morning. Chief Garcia patted him on the back, wished him good luck, and left. Roger was led into a room and told to wait. He sat down at a table facing a raised, curved dais. Behind him was a gallery. In front, behind the dais were six chairs. In front of each chair was a microphone. In front of Roger was a similar microphone on an extended flex neck. Two minutes later, a door opened behind the dais, and five men and a woman entered and took their seats, each adjusting their mikes as they sat. Each person had a name plate in front of him with their individual titles embossed in gold. Roger stood at attention as they took their seats.

Good morning, Sgt. Haskell, and welcome to Sunland Park. My name is Arturo Trujillo. I am the mayor. On my left is Sheldon Olenyk, and to his left is Brianna Pierce. And on my right are John Purdy and Pueyo Pinto. Chief Garcia has had nothing but good things to say about you. He was greatly impressed with his initial interview. That being said, the one thing that I—we—are concerned about is your lack of experience in the law. Chief Garcia has informed us of his willingness to train you and help you with educating you in this field. We have some reservations, and to that end, we’d like to ask you some questions. Fair enough?

Roger, standing at attention the whole time, answered, Yes, sirs, ma’am.

Good. Please be seated, Sergeant.

Roger sat and adjusted his mike and leaned forward. Please. I am retired now and consider myself a civilian. Please call me Roger.

Nods from the six members of the panel. All right. Let’s begin.

Over the next two hours, the panel asked him question after question. He was forthcoming with his answers, and they were impressed. When they asked him something that he could not answer due to confidentiality, he did not answer. At the end of the two hours, they thanked him, stood, and walked through the rear door. Roger stood and watched them leave, and when the door closed behind them, he turned and left the hall. Chief Garcia was waiting for him in the front entranceway. How’d it go? he asked.

I can’t really say, sir. They were hard to read. They asked a lot of questions. I hope I gave them good answers. I don’t know…I think it went well.

"That’s all we can ask for. Bueno! Let’s get some lunch."

They went back to the same diner, sat at the same table, and ordered the chili rellenos again. This time, Roger joined the chief and had a Dos Equis. Chief Garcia was nervous. A lot was riding on his judgment of the man sitting across from him. Sensing his discomfort, Roger said, Sir, if I may, please relax. Either they liked me or they didn’t. If they did, well then, that’s good. If not, I’m sure there’s someone out there that will do just fine. As much as I’d like this job, I know I’m not the most qualified by any means. I told that panel that if they hired me, I would devote all my time and energy gaining the trust and respect of my fellow officers, and I damn well would put in the time and effort over the next six months to earn their—yours and their confidence.

Rolando smiled at this and raised his bottle. That’s all we can ask for, son, that’s all we can ask for.

At two thirty, Chief Garcia got the call from the mayor. Both he and Mr. Haskell were asked to come to the city hall. They arrived and were immediately ushered into the mayor’s office. The mayor rose from his seat and came around his desk and shook the chief’s hand, clasping it in both of his. Chief, he said, and then he turned to Roger. Roger. Thanks for coming. Please, both of you, be seated. He walked around his desk and sat and put both arms on his desk, clasping his hands together as he did so.

So, Roger. Chief Garcia has laid out a training program for the next six months. I understand both of you worked on it. My question to you is simply, do you think you can do this? Follow the guidelines? Study the books? Can you do the training needed to do the job? And be ready in six months? This is quite an undertaking to say the least.

Yes, sir. I have all the confidence that I can complete this in six months. Chief Garcia has assured me that he will do everything he can to help me succeed.

Mayor Trujillo stood and offered his hand. Well then, Roger, welcome aboard. You have a physical scheduled at eight o’clock tomorrow morning. Don’t be late.

No, sir. And thank you, sir.

"Chief? A moment of your time. That will be all, Roger.

Sir. Roger nodded and left the mayor’s office and waited in the lobby.

A few minutes later, Ronaldo Garcia joined him, grinning ear to ear. Roger gave him an inquisitive look, and the chief waved it off. He just wanted me to know that I was completely responsible for you and for your training.

I won’t let you down, sir.

The next morning, Roger showed up for his physical and passed it with flying colors. That afternoon, the chief gave him the necessary forms to fill out and suggested that he spend Thursday looking for an apartment in Sunland Park. The two men would be spending a lot of time together. Plus, the chief would be volunteering various members of his department to help with his education, and it would be more convenient to be in town instead of commuting from El Paso. Roger agreed to this.

Chapter 4

The days turned into weeks, and Roger buried himself in his studies at night, while he rode patrol with his fellow officers during the day. In the office, they buried him in paperwork, teaching him all the nuances of the inner workings of a small-town police force. Sunland Park, New Mexico, was a small town, but crime was an everyday occurrence. Illegals crossed the borders, drugs were a big problem, and once in a while, there was a killing to contend with. All fifteen members of the SP Police Department were kept pretty busy. And of course, at night, there were the books. Roger took to his training with a gusto, which amazed the older chief. Roger was showing the man that his decision was right on.

Meanwhile, back in El Paso, the INS (Immigration and Naturalization Service) got wind of Carlos Ramirez sitting in jail and awaiting trial for vehicular homicide. He had been on their list of illegals who, if caught, were to be shipped back to Mexico. Three days before he was to go on trial, and through a major screwup in the system and the flow of paperwork between the state of Texas and the federal government, Carlos Ramirez was taken by the INS, put on a bus with twenty-two other illegals, and shipped back to Mexico. Cory Brewster was not notified for two days. When he finally was notified, he went ballistic, causing damage to the office of Immigration and Naturalization in the federal courthouse building. He was detained by federal marshals, and his one phone call was to Roger across the border in New Mexico. Roger went in to see his chief and explained the situation and, forty minutes later, arrived at the federal offices of the INS. Cory was seated in a chair with his hands cuffed in front of him. Next to him stood a federal marshal. Cory was released into his custody. It’s not fair! It’s just not fair! he wailed as the two men settled themselves