Dead Ends by Paul Willcocks Page B

Kienan Hebert had vanished from his home in Sparwood, a quiet coal-mining town in eastern British Columbia, almost at the Alberta border.
    His parents had tucked the cute redhead into bed Tuesday night wearing his blue Scooby Doo boxer shorts. He shared his room with his six-year-old brother.
    In the morning, Kienan was gone.
    When police identified a suspect, things looked even worse.
    Randall Hopley was a scrawny, forty-six-year-old loner, with a long criminal record—including sexual assault—who lived in a ratty trailer. For decades, a succession of doctors and counsellors had warned that Hopley was a threat and needed treatment. Nothing was ever done.
    Police released photos showing an unshaven boy-man, with puffy face, high forehead, bad bowl haircut, and blotchy skin. The expression in his green eyes was at once puzzled and a bit angry.
    As newspapers dug into Hopley’s background, the picture grew grimmer.
    His criminal record went back decades. Just three years earlier, Hopley had been sent to jail for eighteen months for a break-in that was part of a plan to kidnap a ten-year-old mentally challenged boy. In 1985, he had been convicted of sexual assault on a five-year-old boy.
    Now he had snatched a toddler from his bed and vanished.Kienan’s parents, Paul and Tammy Hebert, were regulars at Sparwood Fellowship Baptist Church.
    They went to great lengths to protect their eight children. Tammy was a stay-at-home mom, while Paul worked in real estate. They rarely went out and never hired babysitters. The children were even home-schooled, to keep them from risks. “Protection is what we wanted,” Paul Hebert said. “We didn’t want to put them in the public school system for safety.”
    Not everyone feared the worst. Margaret Fink, Hopley’s seventy-year-old mother, said her son wouldn’t hurt Kienan.
    â€œI feel really sorry for the little kid,” she said. “I don’t think Randy will harm him. He’s been with the grandkids here a lot and he’s been pretty good.”
    Hopley visited her in Fernie hours before Kienan went missing, she said, the first time after his latest stint in jail. They had tea. “He gave me a big hug. He said he was doing all right.”
    The RCMP launched a massive manhunt, with more than sixty officers working the case. Tips flooded in. Roadblocks checked every vehicle at key points in the area.
    But Hopley and Kienan had vanished.
    On Saturday—four days after they had last seen him—Kienan’s parents met with the media, sitting at a folding table under a white tent outside the Sparwood fire hall. They faced the cameras and microphones, but they were really trying to speak directly to Hopley.
    Paul Hebert, a big man with close-cropped grey hair, spoke, while Tammy sat beside him. Both battled tears.
    â€œWe’re just asking, please bring Kienan to a safe place right now, okay? Like a gas station or a store parking lot where he can be visibly seen and you can just drop him off there. Walk away. We just want him safe.”
    â€œKienan is only three years old right now… . He can’t tell us who you are,” said Hebert, unshaven and wearing the same purple shirt he had for days. “This is your chance, right now, to get away. All we want is for Kienan to come back with us and to be safe in our arms again.”
    It was desperate, heartbreaking. And it worked.
    The Heberts had moved temporarily to a neighbour’s house. A search headquarters was located on the only road into the subdivision. RCMP officers were everywhere.
    But somehow, around 2:00 a.m. Sunday, Hopley took Kienan back to his home, settled him in a big, comfy brown armchair, and tucked blankets around him. Then he left and called 911 to make sure the RCMP would know Kienan was there.
    Paul and Tammy found their son asleep, unharmed. An ending no one expected.
    A few hours later, Kienan was having fun on the front lawn of the