"I'd hate to think that Mrs. Schneider had anything to do with Doug's death," her neighbor Claire Ellerwood said yesterday. "She was such a nice lady, always happy and cheerful. She mostly kept to herself, but she was such a nice person."
Forensics investigators say some of the remains may be as old as forty years and may have come from children. Some match other missing persons going back to at least 1955. A Lititz high school jacket from the class of 1956 was among the items found in the basement; it's been positively identified as the jacket worn by Bonnie Febray, a- teenager who went missing in November of 1955. Mabel Schneider and her husband George, who died in 1989, lived a few doors down from the Febray family in the early nineteen fifties. So far, none of the human remains discovered have been identified as those at Miss Febray.
Also found among the deceased woman's belongings were various sexual devices and pornographic material, including child pornography. "All the pornographic materials we confiscated at the Schneider residence are on the extreme side," Hillman said. "It's very sick and graphic in nature, and I will find it hard to believe that the people depicted in the stills and videos we found actually lived through the brutality."
Meanwhile, Mrs. Schneider's three adult children are reportedly shocked at the findings and allegations and are refusing to comment on the matter. All inquiries directed to them have been referred to their attorney, Joseph B. Lockerman, who also refused to comment on the case.
Epilogue
Six Years Later
April 12, 2004
Laguna Beach, California
It was a beautiful spring day when Brad Miller got out of his car, a brand-new Saturn IS, and walked over to the plots that he had picked out for the girls five years before.
He had chosen a spot beneath a shady oak tree, near the far eastern corner of the lot. In the summer the massive branches and leaves provided ample shade, and Brad and Joan had bought a small concrete bench for visitors to sit on when they came to visit. The final resting spots themselves were lined up rather nicely; Lisa had picked out the stones herself, and when Brad had Lisa's stone picked out he chose one that was similar to what she had picked out for Alicia and Mandy. It was only fitting. He didn't know if it was what she would have wanted, but it made him feel better. It had made him feel good to take care of her-to take care of them-during those dark years.
Brad paused when he reached the grave sites. The lateafternoon sun shone high in the sky, casting rays of warmth across his face. He looked down at the headstones and read each one, savoring it, committing them to memory.
Alicia Lynn Stevens
May 8, 1971-August 5, 1998
Amanda Beth Stevens
June 4, 1998-August 5, 1998
Between both names were the following words: Mother and daughter, always in our hearts.
Then the next stone:
Lisa Ann Miller
December 8, 1967 June 22, 1999
Below Lisa's name, Brad had added a line from Psalms: "Yea, though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil.'
Brad closed his eyes as tears pooled out and dripped down his cheeks.
Then, mustering up his courage, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
He sat down cross-legged on the grass so he could talk to Lisa.
"I know that… well, I know you probably know about what's going on with me, Lisa. I mean… sometimes I can't help but feel you're still with me, you know? Even though you're… " He paused, feeling the tears sting at the back of his throat. He swallowed, gained control of himself. "I still can't believe you're gone. Despite all that's happened… I still can't believe you're gone."
After his father's sudden suicide and the revelation that he had been responsible for the horrors he and Lisa had been embroiled in, Brad had plunged into a deep depression. He couldn't eat, he couldn't sleep, and he couldn't work. He lost fifty pounds in two months. On the flip side, Lisa seemed to bounce back stronger than ever. She had undergone four hours of surgery to repair extensive damage to her intestines and stomach, and was laid up in the hospital for three weeks after infection set in. Those first few weeks when she was recovering seemed to be a battle for her; she'd been determined to live, just to spite the men who had done this to her. Brad had visited her every day, slept at her bedside, and she'd seemed to draw on this for her strength. She'd bounced back improved as news of the investigation unfolded. When the bodies of Animal and Tim Murray were found, she identified them; a month later, when Mabel Schneider was discovered dead in her home in Pennsylvania and the news of the horrors that had been found in her home reached her, an FBI agent had flown out and shown Lisa photographs of the woman. Lisa had identified her as the woman who had killed John Pbnozzo; Tim's murder was also pinned to her officially.
"Anyway," Brad continued, pulling up tufts of grass. "I know I haven't been by in a while. Hell, it's been almost a year. That's the longest I've been away from you, if you know what I mean."
In the weeks that had followed the discovery of Animal and Tim Murray's bodies, more revelations were unveiled. Rick Shectman had been brought in for questioning and he'd denied everything. While Shectman was in jail being held on other charges, one of William Grecko's contacts, who had been quietly working the extreme hardcore S&M angle, came back and revealed more pieces of the puzzle, confirming the disjointed confession Frank gave before he blew his brains out. According to the informant, Frank Miller had been a longtime devotee of the circle. He was known as a voyeur. "It's like he told me: He liked to watch," Billy had told Brad six months later at a small bar in Huntington Beach. "He especially liked watching women get cut with knives or burned with cigarettes or branding irons. He was into what is known as blood sports. It's like… people getting off sexually at the sight of blood or getting off in the act of cutting or mutilating people."
"My mom's doing pretty good," Brad continued, the first hint of a smile breaking his stoic features. "She's… she's actually starting to have a life again. It was hard for her-you remember that. It was hard for all of us. But she's finally been able to put it behind her." He shook his head. "It's weird to hear me say that. When I think back, I realize she's been getting her shit together far longer than I have. She bounced back pretty quickly, actually. I guess the fact that she's seeing somebody made me realize that she's gone on with her life." He looked at Lisa's headstone. "You d like him, Lisa. His name's Robert Walker and he's a writer and a musician. Total opposite of what Frank was. Brad still couldn't refer to the man that had fathered him as Dad.
At some point during the nine months Brad and Lisa spent in therapy, recovering physically and mentally from the ordeal, William Grecko had come to the house and, with Joan Miller present, he'd told them everything; he'd kept most of what Frank told him a secret from them, but that day he told them all of it, including the corroborating evidence his investigator uncovered. How the S&M acquaintance had revealed that Frank liked to watch people being sexually tortured and abused; how he had fantasized similar scenarios with his daughter-in-law in mind. Telling them the truth about Frank's sickness was the hardest thing he had ever done. Joan had reacted visibly to the news. "I'm sorry," Billy had said while Joan cried.
'You'd realty be surprised if you saw Mom now, Lisa," Brad said. "She's… well, she really shines now. You'd be happy for her."
He remembered how Lisa had reacted two months after she had come home from the hospital, when Billy told them that cadaver-sniffing dogs had located the remains of Debbie Martinez, and Amanda and Alicia Stevens. DNA evidence found on the bodies matched with Jeff Sheer-Animal-pointing to him as the killer. Unfortunately, Lisa's testimony wasn't enough to have Rick Shectman arrested for murder. There was no record that he was involved with Frank Miller. Phone records showed Rick had frequent contact with Tim Murray, who, in turn, had contact with Jeff Sheer. But there was no evidence of Jeff and Rick ever coming in contact with each other. Al Pressman was never located. William surmised he either disappeared on h
is own or was bumped off.
Lisa took solace in taking care of Alicia and Amanda Stevens. After Alicia's father was informed of his daughter's death and he refused to have her body shipped to him, Lisa had arranged for the woman and her daughter to be cremated. She'd also arranged a small ceremony. She had broken down and wept at the service, and Brad could only allow her this time to grieve. Lisa's grief had been a great release, mourning for a woman and child whose deaths she felt responsible for. Her taking care of them after death and seeing that they were honored and remembered in a memorial service was her way of making it up to them, however small it was.
Lisa bought the plots herself, at Forest Hills Cemetery in Laguna Beach. She visited the grave sites regularly for a while. Brad visited them with her too, and could only feel a sense of numbness as he sat beside Lisa while she cried, her grief still great and immense. He understood where it was coming from, but he could not share her grief at that time; he had his own turbulence to go through: the betrayal of his father.
Brad rocked forward a little, a light breeze ruffling his hair, which he'd allowed to grow longish. "So much has happened in the past six months. You already know that Elizabeth and I have gotten married. I told you about that a year ago, right on the eve of our wedding. I'd hardly think you'd forget that. I was bawling like a damn baby when I told you."
He had met Elizabeth Robles in Santa Fe, New Mexico, where he had stayed with an old college friend during his two-year ramble around the greater North American continent. Following Lisa's passing, he'd come dangerously close to following in her footsteps. He'd spent two months in a drug and alcohol fog until he'd pulled himself out of it with William Grecko's help. William had gone into rehab six months after Lisa was discharged from the hospital-his sixth stint in twenty-five years-and he'd emerged not only sober but with a sense of triumph, an outlook that he admitted was one he never thought he'd have. "I'm not going down that road again, buddy," Billy had told him. "From now on, I'm choosing life"
William had helped Brad make that choice nine months later, when Brad realized that Lisa's choice had been that: her choice. It had been a hard one to make, but he really couldn't see her taking the alternative. "She would've been a mess for the rest of her life," he told Billy later after an AA meeting, which Brad began attending for a while and later dropped out of. He'd never had an addiction problem previously, and the meetings had merely been a form of support for him following his own rehabilitation and therapy. More therapeutic were his private meetings with Billy, which the two lawyers had at least weekly. And when Brad was on the road on one of his rambles, he always talked to William via cell phone or through letters, which he posted in whichever town he was in-from Anchorage to Belize. By then, Brad had quit his position with Jacob's and Meyers and was living off of the money that had been recovered during the theft of their life savings. He knew he would have to return to work eventually, but for a time he couldn't. He had to find himself, had to find peace, and the only way he could do that was to stay in motion. His travels by car were wide-ranging and in some cases adventurous, and in seeing the natural beauty of the country he began to feel beauty again in life.
But it was a long, slow process. And there were setbacks along the way. More than once, Brad had gasped awake in some strange hotel room in some state he had never been in, alone, the memory of Lisa's voice, her touch on his mind, and he would collapse in uncontrollable sobs.
"We're doing very well, Brad said, feeling in touch now with Lisa's spirit. "We finally sold the house. Can you believe I was able to sell it for almost half a million? I mean, we paid two seventy-five for it when we bought it, and five years later I get double for it. Elizabeth and I were able to get a nice home outside of Santa Fe, where we live now. You'd love it, Lisa. Ave bedrooms, on two acres of land, with a little lake in the back. I mean, it's a gorgeous house! Easily a two-million-dollar home in Orange County. And I paid three-fifty for it. A steal'
Officially, the FBI had kept the case quiet. With Lisa's testimony they began monitoring Rick Shectman more closely. And when he was finally caught in an undercover sting operation involving a worldwide child pornography ring two years later, he was brought up and convicted on various charges that resulted in a life sentence. Brad regretted that Lisa never lived long enough to see that happen.
In November of 1998, two months after Lisa emerged from the hospital, she returned to work, but she was never the same. For the six months that followed, she and Brad lived lives mired in depression, grief, and uncertainty. Brad was able to pull himself out of his own quagmire of guilt to focus on helping Lisa, who continued to beat herself up over Mandy and Alicia's deaths. They both underwent therapy, individually and group. Life became a routine of work, sleep, visiting the grave sites, crying, and therapy. During the few times Brad was able to get Lisa to talk about it, she told him that she didn't know if she could ever forgive herself for what she'd done. Her therapist was trying to work her through the guilt, but it remained. "I feel like I'm a traitor," she told Brad on the rare occasions when she did talk about the incident. "I feel that no matter what I do, no matter what I try to do in their memory that will somehow make it better, it will never be better. They died because of what I did. And no amount of money donated to charities in their names or organizations founded for homeless women or whatever is going to bring them back and undo the pain they suffered. They died because of a selfish act. They died because for a split second I decided I was better than they were, that I deserved to live more than they did. And once I got those freaks on that train of thought, there was no stopping them, even though I did try to save Mandy and Alicia. They were still killed."
Her depression affected her work performance, but she wasn't let go: George Brooks put her on light duties, and when she wasn't at work or therapy, she slept. Brad constantly worried that she would turn to self-abuse, and he monitored her medication and was hesitant to leave her alone. Gradually, when it became apparent that she wasn't a danger to herself, he began to allow himself brief sojourns out of the house to cope with his own problems and issues. During the spring of 1999, Lisa began to show strides in her therapy. It appeared that she was making great progress; she spoke less of her guilt, began entertaining thoughts of the future. There was something about the way Lisa carried herself, the look in her eyes, her demeanor, that told Brad she was getting past the worst of it. "I may never forgive myself, but I can try to move on, right?" she said one evening while they lay in bed talking about their individual therapies. Encouraged by this, Brad began pulling himself out of his own funk. They began doing the kind of things they used to do together shopping at Thangle Square and taking in movies (light comedies, mostly), followed by dinner. They even went out with friends one night.
And then, as suddenly as it had begun turning good, it nose-dived. One balmy June Saturday afternoon when Brad returned home from running errands, he entered their bedroom and found Lisa in bed, the two urns that contained Mandy and Alicia's ashes clutched to her bosom. An empty box of her sleeping pills was on the nightstand, along with a note, which Brad didn't read with any clarity until three days later. No matter what I do now to make it better, it will never be better. Even though I made a horrible mistake, and my actions were deplorable and I don't deserve forgiveness for them, the fact of the matter is I fought for them. 1 fought for us when we were pulled over in Ventura, and I fought for my life back at that cabin. / fought for Alicia and Mandy even after my own selfishness took over, and 1 fought for my life again in Nevada because after being dragged all that way I didn't want to go down without a fight. I wanted to hurt those who had hurt Mandy and Alicia. And I hurt them. I hurt them bad, and I'm glad they suffered before they died. But I can't live knowing the one who is the cause ofAlicia and Mandy 's deaths is allowed to live her life, be happy, possi. bly have children and see her babies grow That was denied Alicia and Mandy, and I know that I would be a miserable wife and mother and human being for the rest of my life if 1 continue on. T
herefore, it is with great sadness that I leave. Know this, Brad-I love you, and I will always love you. Go forth and do what I will not be able to do. Live life. Enjoy life. And more importantly, appreciate the beauty in life. Do this for me. Don't beat yourself up because of what your father did. Your father was the monster-NOT you. He did this, NOT you. Don't let him drag you down. I only wish I could be strong enough to resist the urge to end it all, but I can't. I've tried to look at things from a different perspective the past few weeks, but I can't stop thinking about them and what I did. There is no other way for me. My path has led me to here, and / would rather chose this path than the one of life, which I know will be wrought with pain for the rest of my life. Maybe I deserve that, but I don't deserve the possibility that I can rise above my grief and misery and be happy once again. I don't deserve the possibility of happiness and all that can come with such happiness, such as our love and marriage, our getting pregnant again and having children. I don't deserve it, and I know this and accept it. Please understand Brad. And please remember that I will always love you. Love, Lisa.
He still had that suicide note, and he read it again as he sat at the grave site, the paper it was written on now lined and creased from constant handling. Brad folded the paper again and wiped the tears from his face. "I understand now," he said, as he held the note in his hands. "I understand.*
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