Then There Were Six

The Bible tells of the prophet Elijah, who, having disposed of certain irritating pagans, feared for his life and fled to the wilderness, where he lay himself down under a broom tree and prayed to die.

The women raped by Larry Harper in the early 1990s would probably recoil at his name's being even remotely linked to the prophet, but Gina Holder, who attended Bible studies with Harper following his escape from a Texas prison last month, says the convicted rapist knew his Scripture with a prophet's acumen. Holder knew Harper as "Brother Jim," one of seven companions who stayed at the Woodland Park, Colo., RV park that she co-owns. She remembers him in khakis, penny loafers, buttoned-down shirts. "He was very preppy," says another Bible-study participant. "He looked like a Mormon knocking at the door."

At the last study--a group of 15 nondenominationalists meeting under a pastor's auspices at the RV park--the text was Matthew 12, in which Jesus takes on the Pharisees. "Brother Jim," says Holder, "was thumbing back and forth through the Bible, finding other references that related to the text. All of us, even the pastor, were pretty amazed."

Harper's biblical dexterity contributed to the claim by the seven to being a traveling Christian group en route from Texas to California. "They listened to Christian music," says Holder. "They called each other Brother. They called my husband Brother Wade." She adds with some ferocity, "They didn't sit out on the park bench and clean their guns."

Some may argue that solitary confinement is preferable to seven men packed into a 34-ft. RV, two twin beds in the back, 35 guns and ammo strewn about; the coarse companionship of murderers, rapists and the beater of a small child. But the Connally Seven had chosen a spectacular hideaway after one of them allegedly shot a policeman 11 times in Irving, Texas. The RV site was perched high above Woodland Park, with a postcard view of the northeast face of Pikes Peak fading and reappearing behind blowing snow and scuttling clouds. The fugitives had been there for three weeks, paid cash, received no mail.

At Tres Hombres, a cantina in the heart of Woodland Park, four of the men--Randy Halprin, Donald Newbury, Patrick Murphy Jr. and "Brother Jim"--were just starting to become regulars. "Just regular guys," says bartender Pam Smith. She remembers Michael Rodriguez--who had hired a hit man to kill his wife for $400,000 in insurance money--as being "real nice." He came in for lunch. Smith and her boss Darby Howard remember their tattoos--and, in alleged ringleader George Rivas' case, a fresh-orange hairdo. But Tres Hombres sees lots of people with mohawks and piercings. The Gang of Seven blended in.

And then Brother Wade and Sister Gina watched the TV show America's Most Wanted and realized who the band of traveling Christians really were. Brother Wade alerted the police, and a SWAT team descended. Three of the escapees were captured at a nearby convenience store. Another surrendered peacefully at the RV. Two were captured two days later at a Holiday Inn.