And Never See Her Again (4 page)

The picture of Opal showed her in a black cowgirl hat, a red vest with a sheriff's star on the left breast over a striped turtleneck shirt. Her small hands clutched a black-and-white stick horse. Opal's dark brown hair rested on her narrow shoulders; her bangs covered her eyebrows and nearly obscured her bright blue eyes. Opal's trademark grin was wide and depicted a fun-loving, happy child. The photo brought tears to Teresa's eyes and the ever-present question to her mind: where was Opal?

Teresa took a piece of paper and began writing:

OpalJoJennings kidnapped about 5:30 on Friday, March 26, 1999 in Saginaw, Tx. Last seen being forced into dark purple, almost black, car, may have tan or brown top. Late model believed to be a Mercury sedan. A tall, white male with brown hair in a ponytail with facial hair.

Age: 6 Hair: Brown Eyes: BlueAbout 4 feet tall Weight: 60 lbs. If you ve seen or have any information about Opal please call Saginaw Police.

A local Saginaw printer donated his time and materials to produce nearly ninety thousand flyers made from the photo of Opal and the text written by Teresa. Volunteers who had been ignored in the search effort blanketed the area, tacking flyers to trees and telephone poles, taping them to stop signs and storefronts. They tucked them under windshield wipers and stuck them on car antennas. It was impossible to go anywhere in Saginaw without seeing the sweet, happy face of the missing child. Flyers were distributed in Fort Worth and Dallas, sent to friends and relatives in other cities, other states, and eventually other countries, to be circulated in hopes someone somewhere may have seen Opal Jennings.

The efforts of the volunteers were acknowledged and appreciated, but authorities knew that a study by the Justice Department revealed that 44 percent of all abducted children under the age of seventeen were killed within an hour of their kidnapping. It had been more than twenty-four hours since Opal had been reported missing. Although they knew the statistics were against them, the men and women assigned to the Opal Jennings case continued to push for a positive resolution.

MARK 9, a Dallas canine search-and-rescue group, was called in, along with Fort Worth Police Department's (FWPD) mounted patrol, state police divers, and other authorities. A Fort Worth police helicopter equipped with an infrared device, which detects anything that emits heat, such as a person, searched for Opal. Lieutenant Wright, who had held off local volunteers, had amassed a group of more than two hundred searchers, all willing to look for Opal Jennings.

The commander of Arlington's Amber Hagerman Task Force was scheduled to meet with Saginaw police to share any information they gained during their search that might help with Saginaw's efforts to find Opal Jennings.

Saginaw police detective Mike Hughes spoke to a meeting of several hundred parents, asking them to share any pictures or videos they may have taken during the school "Fun Run" that Opal attended on the afternoon of her abduction. Checking the background of pictures for clues might help them identify any suspicious person or persons at the event.

"What is being done to protect our children during school hours?" one parent asked during the meeting. "How do we respond when our kids ask when Opal will return?" another questioned.

"You say you don't know. You say the truth," Becky Henton, the school counselor, replied. "Give them extra hugs."

The children were kept indoors for recess during the first week following the abduction while the massive search for their classmate took place outside the walls of their protected environment.

Police planned to use volunteer searchers when the time was right. Liability waiver forms were distributed to interested persons so that when it was determined their services were most needed, they would be ready to go into action. It was unsure exactly how the volunteers would be used. Some might take food to investigators; some might eventually be used in the hunt itself. During the first critical hours following the abduction, only certified law enforcement personnel would be allowed on the scene.

Although there were rumblings from those who most wanted to be a part of helping find Opal, the Sanderfords had no problem with the manner in which the Saginaw Police Department was handling the matter. They had faith in the officers. Opal's family could see in their faces, hear in their voices, that the officers were taking to heart their job of finding Opal. In only a few short hours, Opal had become part of them. She had become their little girl.

In North Dakota, Leola Sanderford's mood was as chilled as the winter winds that blew outside her door. Far from Texas, she felt powerless to help find her daughter. Although she kept in phone contact with her father and stepmother, Leola longed to be in Saginaw, ached to be there when Opal returned home.

Leola's financial situation hadn't improved since the call came from home that Opal was missing. She worked long, hard hours at the restaurant, but tips were meager and she had another child to care for.

Nearly a week after learning of Opal's abduction, Leola received another call from Texas. Leola squeezed the phone tightly as she listened for news of Opal.

"Someone, an anonymous donor, has provided you a plane ticket to come here," Detective Neal told Leola. "We can get you on the next flight out."

Tears filled Leola's large brown eyes and spilled onto her pale cheeks. She was going to Texas. She'd be there when they brought Opal home. Her stomach dipped with excitement, but her mood quickly soured when she realized that she would have to leave Courtney behind. Courtney's father would take care of her, Leola was certain of that. But one daughter was already missing, she dreaded leaving the other. She also didn't look forward to facing Audrey Sanderford.

The Sanderfords were a multigenerational blended family. Audrey, the mother of eight, married Robert, the father of three, in 1985, and they set up house in Clarksville, Arkansas.

Leola, at age nine, was the youngest of the Sanderford girls. Her dark brunet hair, deep chocolate brown eyes, wistful smile, and shy manner gave her the illusion of spiritedness with an undertone of vulnerability. Leola was a good girl. She always did what she was told, and never talked back to her father.

The nine-year-old had missed out on the unique, if not occasionally volatile, relationship of a mother and daughter. She had no memory of her mother. She had never known her. Her father had become her whole world. Although strict, Robert was never abusive. For nine years they had coexisted in relative harmony, but then her father met Audrey, and Leola's life changed.

For the first time in years, Leola had to share her father, not only with her two older sisters, but with another woman in the house. For seven years the tension between the two Sanderford women grew. At sixteen, Leola began seeing Randy Crawford. Crawford, a friend of the Sanderford family, was twelve years Leola's senior, and old enough to provide Leola the chance to change her life. They quickly married and Leola gave birth to their only child, Opal, in 1992.

The couple bounced from city to city and from home to home. The marriage rapidly deteriorated. The attention Crawford heaped on Leola prior to their marriage faded and he showed little interest in either his wife or daughter. When Opal was only four months old, Leola decided to move to Corpus Christi, Texas. The Gulf Coast city was where Leola's grandmother and namesake, Leola Hartline, lived. Mrs. Hartline, along with other extended family, would help Leola provide a loving household for her daughter.

Leola wasn't disheartened at leaving Arkansas. Her husband really had never been a part of Opal's life, and Leola felt both she and her daughter could receive in Texas the love and nurturing they missed in Arkansas.

Opal thrived in Corpus Christi. She loved the beach, watching the boats motor up and down the coastline, and the seagulls in suspended flight. She had become the center of her extended family. She grew from an adorable infant to a precocious toddler, and her mother flourished as well.

While living in Corpus Christi, Leola met Chris Chase and fell in love. She eventually took four-yearold Opal with her and followed Chase to Mandan, North Dakota. Leola and Chase lived together, but never married. In 1996, they had a child, Leola's second daughter, Courtney. But their relationship didn't last and the couple eventually separated.

Undereducated and with little work experience behind her, the only job Leola was able to find was as a split-shift waitress at a truck stop in Mandan. The young mother found herself with little time and even less money to care for her two daughters. By the time Opal had turned five, Leola had made a heartbreaking decision.

Opal was unhappy in North Dakota. She missed her sunny days at the beach, her grandmother, and her aunts and uncles. As hard as Leola worked to make a home for herself, Opal, and Courtney, she continued to struggle. She knew what would be best for Opal, and as much as it pained her, Leola thought the most sensible decision was to send Opal to live with her father and Audrey.

Robert and Audrey Sanderford had moved from Arkansas to Saginaw, Texas. They lived in an unpretentious home, along with Audrey's daughter Teresa and her husband, Clay, who also happened to be Robert's brother. Only a few houses down the street lived Robert's other daughter Pat. The family-filled neighborhood would provide Opal with all the love and attention that any five-year-old child would need. The thought of having Teresa and Pat close by comforted Leola. She knew Opal would be fine. And, after all, it was a short-term solution. She hoped she would be able to join her daughter shortly, just as soon as she got on her feet financially.

But sending Opal to Texas had been harder than Leola had imagined. Tears burned her eyes as she waved to Opal on the day Robert and Audrey walked her daughter to the plane, which would take her hundreds of miles away.

Opal immediately had made herself comfortable in a small corner bedroom of her grandparents' house. She quickly began to flourish.

Unlike her mother, Opal got along well with Audrey, who marveled in the child's perceptions.

"She loves beautiful things," Audrey had said. "She finds beauty in moss; she finds beauty in caterpillars. To have been so knocked around in her life, she just takes each day as she gets it."

Opal entered Saginaw Elementary School, where, in six months, she learned to write her name, read, work math problems, and tell time with a regularfaced clock. Six Flags Over Texas sponsored a reading program, providing any boy or girl who completed six hundred hours of reading in forty-five days with a free ticket to the amusement park. Opal had 780 hours before her grandmother tired of writing down her reading time. Opal had surpassed the goal. She had gotten the ticket. She looked forward to the rides, eating cotton candy, and walking the acres of park grounds.

But Opal never made the trip to Six Flags. She never rode the runaway mine train or got splashed on the log ride. She never saw the gunfight on Main Street or poked around in the souvenir shops. Opal was abducted from her grandparents' front yard before she could reap the benefits of her reward.

One week after Opal Jennings's abduction, Richard "Ricky" Lee Franks climbed the steps to the Romanesque Revival architectural-style Wise County Courthouse, some thirty miles north of Fort Worth. The nineteenth-century building, made of Texas granite in two colors and terra-cotta used extensively in the friezes, turrets, and dormers, housed the Wise County Adult Probation Department.

Franks made his way down the stone floor of contrasting colored tiles, along marbled walls, and past thick oak doors to a winding cast-iron staircase in the center of the building. He climbed the stairs toward the glass skylight above and to the office of Jesse Herrera.

Herrera was the last of several probation officers Franks had seen during his seven-year term of community supervision. Franks had a long history of arrests and convictions on sex-related crimes in Wise County. He was first arrested in January 1991 on two counts of aggravated sexual assault with a child in connection with incidents involving young female relatives. He pleaded guilty to the lesser offense of indecency with a child and received seven years' probation. Franks had been jailed twice during his probation for failure to attend required sex-offender-counseling sessions. His probation had been as much a struggle for the probation officer as it had been for Franks.

Herrera had been trying since Franks was assigned to his caseload to get him to "clean up his act." Each time Franks had arrived in Herrera's office, he wore unkempt clothes, his beard was shaggy, and his hair was long and dirty. Most often he wore his brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, often topped with his favorite red baseball cap. No words of encouragement or chastising had moved Franks to do better.

Sitting behind his desk when Franks arrived, Herrera's mouth gapped open in obvious surprise. Franks was dressed in clean jeans and shirt, was smooth shaven, and his hair was cropped short. Herrera wondered what could have possessed Franks to make the changes he had resisted for years.

Franks came from a poor family of native Texans. He was born in Decatur, and had lived in Chico, Newark, and Saginaw, Texas. Bessie Franks was a religious, overprotective mother to her three sons. Their father, Robert, worked as a trash collector. Robert was "slow." He had his son, Rodney, teach him how to write his own name. The Franks' marriage dissolved when Ricky was two years old. Robert Franks had little to do with his sons and later died in the late 1980s.

Bessie married Henry Hemphill Sr., a Saginaw barber. Hemphill was more of a father to Ricky and Rodney than their biological father had ever been.

Henry Hemphill's attempts to discipline Ricky were often hampered by Bessie's interference. She took up for her son, excusing his actions by saying, "He's a tenderhearted little boy."

When Ricky Franks would act up in school and his stepfather would leave the barbershop to pick him up, Bessie wouldn't allow the boy to be spanked. Or if Henry Hemphill raised his voice to Ricky, Bessie would counter with, "That's not how you treat him." Bessie and Henry Hemphill eventually divorced, but they remained friends.