The Red Rocks Sacrifice

By Theodore Huntington

The Murder Whisperer is at it again. Colorado’s most famous sleuth, the beautiful, wheelchair-bound Detective Lauren Gabriel, has been enlisted to help solve the ghastly Red Rocks sacrifice.

Lauren teams up with Detective Mandy Toboggan to uncover the twisted connections and demonic clues to the gruesome murder of a young college student.

Who is behind the Red Rocks sacrifice? Is it the high school Satan Club students? The suspended police detective with the drinking problem? The stand-up comic with a kinky alter-ego? Or the devil-worshipping college professor?

You will not be able to put down this book as you try to solve THE RED ROCKS SACRIFICE.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Next Chapter
• Release date: Apr 10, 2024

Book preview

1

ADVENTURES AWAIT was the motto of Boy Scouts of America Troop 737. For the twelve young boys and their fathers and mothers who accompanied them on a cool Colorado morning hike, the adventure turned into a frightening, nightmare-inducing, sickening experience.

Troop 737 was hosting its annual Cub Family Campout. The pack chose a new location for the annual event – Red Rock Canyon Conservation Area. The group of a dozen families traditionally organized its Campout at McNeil Scout Ranch in Peaceful Valley, near Colorado Springs. But an unusual September snowstorm closed the roads leading to McNeil Scout Ranch, so the den scrambled to find a more local, dry, campground, and located one just a few miles away from their home base in Evergreen, Colorado.

The prior evening’s campfire festivities were a success. The boys, ages eight to ten, and their parents awoke early to sparkling sunshine and crisp, cool weather. They enjoyed the bacon and eggs breakfast and were looking forward to the day’s agenda which included archery and BB gun contests. The festivities would conclude with the always thrilling obstacle course relay race.

The first activity of the day was a group hike. The path stretched from Red Rocks Park Road, turning to Ship Rock Road, past the famed Red Rocks Amphitheater, veering left along Trading Post Road, and then back to the campsite near Red Rocks Trail Road.

The sun was still rising over the marvelous scarlet rock structures, eliciting an ochre glow. The parents were more enthralled with the landscape than the boys. They stopped frequently to snap selfies with the glowing rock formations behind them, immediately posting the images onto their social media pages with the hashtag Troop737AdventuresAwait.

Most of the boys were bored and tuckered. It was seven-thirty in the morning and many of the lads had been chit-chatting long into the night. Some of the ten-year-olds were texting girls – their idea of dating. Eight-year-old class clown Bryan Brown snuck his hand-held portable sound machine into his backpack and entertained friends with the fart sound effect until three a.m. The dads and moms slept through the shenanigans in the party tents, thanks to their secret stash of Fireball several of them shared throughout the evening.

The hiking troupe split into two factions – the energetic leaders, and the sluggish slow-pokes.

Are we almost done? whined Bryan Brown. Bryan expressed his boredom by kicking rocks down the dirt path. His blue Cub Scouts shirt was untucked, and his dirty blonde mop squished into his cap.

The hikers were about halfway through the trek and had just turned onto Trading Post Road. When do we shoot BB guns? Bryan asked.

Look at where you are, son. Bryan’s mom, den leader Veronica, wrapped an arm around her child. Fresh air, amazing scenery, a little exercise. Live in the moment, my boy.

Bryan flinched and brushed his mother’s hand off of his shoulder. You’re weird, Mom.

Nine-year-old Stevie Reano smirked at Bryan and snidely remarked, Do what Mommy says, Bry. The comment elicited a quick smack to the side of his head from Stevie’s father, Alfonse, knocking the cap off Stevie’s curly, shoulder-length mane.

C’mon, Al, we treat our children with respect if we want to earn their respect. Ponytailed Evergreen City Councilman Lawrence Nillson reprimanded financial planner Al Reano. The two men were not friends.

Yeah, well, in my home, my children get disciplined for bad behavior.

The parents continued to quarrel, as others chimed into the debate. No one noticed that Bryan Brown dropped back from the pack. The youngster heard something coming from the brush and wanted to investigate.

Stevie Reano was the first to notice Bryan veered off the trail. Hey, where’d Bryan go?

Veronica was too engrossed in the parenting dispute to notice her child was no longer at her side.

Bry? Veronica called out to her son.

Stevie Reano raced in the opposite direction to find his friend. Alfonse and Veronica followed.

Lawrence Nillson held out his long arms to stop the rest of the Troop. Everyone else stay put. No use all of us getting lost. I’m sure Mrs. Brown and Mr. Reano will find Bryan. He couldn’t have gone far.

Unless he was kidnapped or taken by a bear, Jessica Zethica replied. The pretty blonde was the youngest adult in the group. As a single parent, she was the one who received the most inappropriate flirtations from the pack’s dads, all of whom were married.

You think a bear got him, Mom? Jessica’s child Draco nervously asked. The boy was the littlest and most introverted in the pack.

Everyone is safe. There are no bears around here, Lawrence declared, his voice quivering a bit.

Bryan heard yipping noises coming from the brush. He recalled hearing the same chilling sound the evening his neighbor’s cat went missing.

Bryan pushed his way through the Gambel oak and mountain mahogany shrubs. The yipping got louder. Bryan could see several animal tails waving above the tall grass. A curious child, Bryan was unafraid of the animals which seemed too engrossed in their activity to bother with the young human walking toward them.

It is rare for coyotes to attack humans, but the pack was protective of their meal. Bryan was not concerned about the danger. He got close enough to see the coyotes were eating something. Bryan pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket. He thought the coyotes’ breakfast antics were more worthy of a social media post than the wonderful Red Rocks scenery.

Bryan stopped in his tracks and zoomed the phone camera, giving him a better look at the coyotes’ feast. He tapped the button to take the photo.

What is that? the youngster whispered to himself. He assumed the mangy mountain canines were dining on a rabbit or a squirrel.

The eight-year-old stared at the image he captured. Holy sh⁠—

Bryan! Veronica spotted her son.

The coyotes were alarmed. They stopped eating when they saw the posse of humans walking in their direction. The coyotes yipped and barked at them, and then scattered, annoyed that their breakfast was interrupted.

What are you doing, Kiddo? Veronica wondered why her boy strayed off the path.

I heard a weird noise.

They’re gone now. Let’s get back to the others.

No, Mom. We can’t. You have to see this. Bryan showed Veronica the photo he snapped of the coyotes’ breakfast.

Oh my God! Veronica grabbed the iPhone out of her son’s hand. She stared at the device and then took two tentative steps in the direction of the dead animal.

I wanna see! Stevie ran toward the carcass.

No Stevie you don’t⁠—

Stevie snatched Bryan’s phone out of his hand. His eyes grew wide as he got a glimpse of the image of a half-eaten arm and leg – clearly a female with one remaining red-manicured nail on the hand.

2

TROOP 737 NEVER got around to their archery and BB gun contests, or the obstacle course. The Campout turned into an event none of the boys and their parents would forget.

A team of five Morrison, Colorado police officers, and part-time volunteers – one-third of the small town’s force – scoured the brush for the rest of the body or bodies that comprised the coyotes’ morning meal.

The newest member of the Morrison PD team interviewed the parents and children at the Red Rocks campsite. The den parents and their children sat on benches around the fire pit.

Detective Mandy Toboggan was adorned in the Morrison PD-issued tan khakis, navy-blue pullover, and cap that barely fit atop Mandy’s thick orange curls pulled back into a ponytail. Mandy requested a transfer from the Denver PD to the tiny Morrison community in Jefferson County. Mandy was the second youngest DPD officer to ever earn a detective badge, a reward for her work helping to solve the LoDo murders. But Mandy could not rid her mind of the frequent nightmares caused by the headless corpses and brutality of the LoDo slayings, which also fueled Mandy’s deeply embedded insecurities. She hoped the Morrison area was free from the major crime she saw