Table of Contents
Dear Reader,
We proudly present the newest addition to our internationally acclaimed true crime series of Real People/Incredible Stories. These riveting thrillers spotlight men and women who perform extraordinary deeds against tremendous odds: to fight for justice, track down elusive killers, protect the innocent or exonerate the wrongly accused. Their stories, told in their own voices, reveal the untold drama and anguish behind the headlines of those who face horrific realities and find the resiliency to fight back
In Wicked Intentions: The Sheila LaBarre Murders-ATrue Story by Kevin Flynn, when investigators are called to the secluded New Hampshire farm of attractive, forty-something Sheila LaBarre, they find the charred and dismembered remains of her young lover, a developmentally disabled man with the I.Q. of a twelve-year-old. Her neighbors are afraid to speak of the series of young men who have come and gone from that farm all those years, all of whom seemed to have vanished in thin air. With the tempestuous suspect on the run and all known physical evidence that could be used against her obliterated, could Sheila LaBarre be proven guilty beyond reasonable doubt for the grisly murders that took place on her property? Emmyaward winning television reporter Kevin Flynn, who becomes Sheilas confidant and first broke the story, uncovers the brutal truth behind one of Americas most shocking crimes.
The next time you want to read a crackling, suspenseful page-turner, which is also a true account of a real-life hero illustrating the resiliency of the human spirit - look for the New Horizon Press logo.
Sincerely,
Dr. Joan S. Dunphy
Publisher & Editor-in-Chief
Real People/Incredible Stories
For Lily
Authors Note
The point of view of this book is based on the investigative journalism of Kevin Flynn and reflects his perceptions of the past, present and future. The facts about the Sheila LaBarre murders recounted in this book are true to the best of his knowledge and recall. Some of the names have been changed and identifying characteristics altered to safeguard the privacy of individuals. The personalities, events, actions and conversations portrayed in this book have been taken from extensive personal interviews, police reports, court documents, including trial transcripts, letters, personal papers, research, press accounts and the memories of some participants. Quoted testimony has been taken from interviews, pre-trial and trial transcripts and other sworn statements. Some minor characters are composites. Some conversations have been reconstructed. Events involving the characters happened as described; only minor details have been altered.
Prologue
Dusk was falling on the New Hampshire town. It was around 6 P.M. The trip to the farmhouse took the officers down a long, wooded private road. The branches of the trees on either side of the path reached out to one another, touching fingers midway across. The canopy of bark and early spring buds enveloped the police cruiser and its passengers.
When Epping Police Detective Richard Cote and Sergeant Sean Gallagher pulled up to the property at 70 Red Oak Hill Lane on Friday, March 24, 2006, they noticed the wooden gate to the horse farm was closed and padlocked. Neither could remember a time the gate had been secured like that, but they knew historically the homeowner had disputes with the town road agent about plowing beyond her gate even though she herself had chained it shut on him.
The officers had come to conduct a well-being check. Not on the homeowner, but on someone who had recently moved to town.
Cote and Gallagher knew the property well. There was a farmhouse, a large barn and several outbuildings. Tonight, the house seemed quiet. There were no lights on inside. They scanned the yard and all of the owners cars seemed to be there. They knocked on the door, assuming that someone was home, but no one answered.
There was some activity on the farm, however. As they stood at the front door, Cote pointed out a completely burnt mattress and box spring. It was right in front of the porch entrance, about twenty feet to their right. About thirty-five feet away from the mattress was a second burn area. It was a rusty metal barrel and a pile of hay. Although there was no one on the property, both of these areas were actively burning.
Gallagher approached the pile of debris. There was an awful smell in the air.
The police officers step stuttered with disbelief. No. That cant be what Im seeing, he thought to himself. Sticking out of the burning hay pile in plain sight was a bone. The bone was only about three and a half inches long, but appeared to be jagged at the bottom. It was as if it had been cut or hacked in some sloppy way. The top of the bone sprouted into a round ball meant for some corresponding joint. It turned the cops stomach with horror.
Immediately, Gallagher made a phone call. Cote, however, didnt hear the conversation. He had moved in for a closer look at the bone in the fire pit. When the sergeant snapped off the phone he told Cote, Were kicking in the side door to find this kid.
Cote watched Gallagher steady himself at the door. He punched through with the heel of his foot right under the doorknob, breaking the wooden frame. Cote knew the sergeant was so deeply focused on what he was doing that Gallagher probably couldnt hear what he heard: a set of wheels, a car of some kind, making its way up the windy dirt road approaching the farm. Soon they would not be alone.
Someones coming, he said.
Cote turned back and looked closely at the bone, braced for the odor. On the ball at the top, he saw something hed never forget. The bone was covered with soft tissue that looked like a burned hunk of human flesh.
PART 1
The Farm
Oh, you dear children, who has brought you here? Do come in, and stay with me. No harm shall happen to you. She took them both by the hand, and led them into her little house.
- Brothers Grimm, Hansel and Gretel
On a Secluded Farm...
Until the day he left the state prosecutors office, Peter Odom would never really know exactly what happened on that farm. How some people could fall off the face of the earth. How some people could be directed like puppets. How some people could watch eagerly with wide-open eyes and could simultaneously look away. Odom understood the stresses that caused one to strike down another: jealousy, hatred, rage and greed. Even madness. They all bloomed from the same emotion: fear. Pushed far enough, fast enough, any human could give into temptation. They could kill in self-defense or kill in selfish abandon.
Odom had yet to learn why some people seemed predestined to murder, why they had been born to kill. These were people in whom murder had been incubating their whole lives. They didnt kill as an impassioned powder keg, which exploded once and released its malicious tensions. They didnt attack as a bee does, stinging once then dying. They attacked like a wasp, stinging repeatedly and easily without consequences.
