by Gregg Olsen
GC: Ah-huh.
SP: I mean, that’s kind of a titillating thing, you know.
GC: Was there any sexual contact or any sexual relationship between you and Susan? I’m sorry to be blunt, but you know, what other way to ask?
SP: We never had any actual, you know, like vaginal sex or …
GC: Okay. Any kissing or touching or …
SP: Oh, yeah.
GC: Okay.
SP: One night she wanted me to um, um, massage her feet and legs and so on because she was kind … she had been standing up a lot that day and I, I, I you know I did it and, ah, you know I of course moved her feet to my crotch so she could feel, you know, what she was doing to me and that went on for about an hour.
Steve told the police that he had finally confided his love to Susan.
SP: I didn’t want her to move to Utah and I hoped that there was enough feeling there that she would stay and, and she got really upset at me. She would not talk to me for months. It was, it was, it was the worst thing I ever did and it was so troubling …
They asked Steve if he thought she might have gone away with another man.
SP: I don’t, I can’t, I like not to think that she had any kind of relationship with anybody. I mean, she just seemed very happy to be around me to—and among other things, um, which always pleased me because I mean she’s the mother of my grandchildren. She’s um, she’s, she’s a beautiful young lady, you know, um.
Steve said Susan’s disappearance had hit him hard.
SP: I was in shock when I found out she was missing and I, I kind of was just literally sick for a few days. I couldn’t, you know, I couldn’t even function.
The detectives, who tried to build a rapport with Steve by being sympathetic about his “deep feelings” toward Susan, asked to walk through his house with him—so they can go back and tell their bosses in the WVCPD that he isn’t hiding Susan. Steve is in tears at this point. “I was actually wishing she was there. I wish she was there.”
They carpooled back to Steve’s house and found no trace of Susan.
The police report notes that Steve was “aroused” and nostalgic while recounting his sexual encounters with Susan. There’s no indication if they meant sexually aroused or emotionally aroused. Or both.
Steve told the police that early on he found Josh’s alibi “fishy” but that he later changed his mind after talking to Josh.
* * *
Soon after Alina and Mike covered for Josh so he could sneak out of West Valley City, they started their own trip back to Puyallup in Mike’s 1997 Ford Taurus.
It wouldn’t be known for a long time, but at the corner of Elm and Indiana in Baker City, Oregon, the car reportedly broke down. Rather than have it repaired—there are definitely garages in the county seat that could have worked on it—Mike used Alina’s AAA membership to have it towed. But he didn’t want it fixed. He had it towed to Lindell’s Auto and Truck Parts in Pendleton, Oregon, ninety-six miles north. The receipt, dated December 22, indicates Mike sold the car for $100. There are mistakes on the receipt. It refers to the car as a 1997 Ford Escort (it was a Taurus), and it noted that the mileage from Lindell’s to Baker City is forty-five miles one way, half the actual distance.
A relative went to Pendleton to pick up Mike and Alina and drive them home to Puyallup.
Sooner or later, Mike would have had to do something with the car anyway. Better to have it picked apart, door handle by door handle, and sold for scrap metal. Now he could stop worrying about the police searching it.
* * *
On December 20, two weeks to the day after Susan was last seen, friends, family members, and strangers touched by the story of the missing mother gathered for two candlelight vigils. One was at the Coxes’ LDS ward in Puyallup and the other was at Susan’s ward in West Valley City.
Friends and neighbors at the West Valley City vigil couldn’t believe that Josh would leave the state while they were searching and praying for Susan. Kiirsi was still trying to keep Josh in her life, in hopes that he might reveal information about Susan.
“I know we are all praying for Josh,” she told a reporter, amending her words with a quick: “At least, some of us.”
The vigil concluded with the singing of Susan’s favorite Christmas song, “Silent Night.” Kiirsi, Debbie, JoVonna, and others wept as they sang, the lyrics now a prayer for Susan.
Sleep in heavenly peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace.
* * *
Few outside his family knew that Josh was back in Washington, so many were surprised when he and four-year-old Charlie attended the Puyallup vigil. When they arrived it was concluding, and for a few minutes he stood silently under an umbrella in the pelting rain. His face carried that same miserable, haunted look that he’d had in front of the TV cameras back in Utah. He made sure that Susan’s parents didn’t speak to Charlie, although Chuck caught a glimpse of his grandson holding a candle.
Susan’s father wrote on Facebook that night:
I just hope being [at the vigil] will encourage Josh to help with the search.
* * *
There were blood spatters everywhere. On the love seat where Susan sat and crocheted December 6. On the tile floor between the sofa and the front door. Near the winter boots she always wore.
In late December, the WVCPD received its first serology results on items from the W. Sarah Circle house. Furniture, the contents of Josh’s van, and boxes of items from the house had been hauled to the state’s crime laboratory. Luminal testing found widespread traces of blood. There were sixteen drops on the tile, but only a few were substantial enough to test. It was Susan’s blood. The lab also tested the rags Josh had used to clean his car the night of December 7, a latex glove, the attachments to the Rug Doctor, the backseat of the van, including a seat belt, and the charred debris found in a bag. There was either no other blood or not enough to test. They tested the couch for other substances, on the theory that if Josh had strangled Susan, she might have urinated. It was negative. They also tested a pancake and “crepe-like” food found in the kitchen garbage, but there was no sign of poison. Of course, Susan had eaten the pancakes Josh had made individually for her.
Tests of the 2009 Ford Focus Josh had rented turned up none of Susan’s DNA.
The police kept all the findings to themselves, including that they had found Susan’s blood in the house.
17
Susan, I love you SO much! I wish you could know how hard we are looking for you. My heart has a huge hole in it. Your dad is being so strong and so awesome. We’ve mobilized the internet and the West Valley PD is using everything they can to find you.… We will not give up until we find you! Don’t give up! I pray all day that angels will guide you and watch over you.
—JANUARY 8, 2010, NOTE FROM KIIRSI HELLEWELL TO SUSAN, HIDDEN IN SUSAN’S SLIPPER
Chuck and Judy Cox went through the motions during the days around Christmas. Despite the presence of their other daughters and grandchildren, there was a profound emptiness in the house where Susan had grown up.
Chuck wrote on the Facebook page dedicated to Susan:
It has been a very difficult few days. We were able to see Charlie and Braden on Christmas Eve and Christmas day for several hours. Both are in good health and spirits and seemed to be unaffected by the current situation … We are comforted by all your prayers and support.
Neighbors left candles and notes outside the Cox home, which had a nativity scene in the yard.
The Coxes did not hear from Josh or see him. A family friend drove the boys back and forth between their residence and Steve’s. Chuck planned to return to Utah the next week to meet with police, who would tell him that there were no new developments in the case.
But there were.
Police and prosecutors had made a decision that wouldn’t come to light for more than two years. Although they continued to call Susan’s disappearance a missing-person case, police had concluded by December 8—one day after Josh returned from the c
amping trip—that they had a criminal case on their hands.
The Salt Lake City prosecutor’s office filed paperwork and received court approval to conduct an investigation into what they now believed was kidnapping and murder. It meant they could keep all evidence, facts, and testimony related to Susan’s disappearance secret, including search warrants of the Powell home and the minivan. Based on what they’d heard from West Valley City detectives, the prosecutor’s office believed that disclosing information about the case could impede the investigation.
Then Josh caught them by surprise, again. Police didn’t know where Josh had gone when he was camping on December 6. They didn’t know where he had gone when he rented a car December 8–10 and drove 800 miles. They hadn’t known he’d left West Valley City to spend Christmas in Puyallup until Kiirsi and John phoned with the news.
They were about to learn that he was leaving West Valley City for good.
* * *
It is rare for the family of a missing person to move. Sometimes families hang on to the same address and telephone number for decades in the event that their loved one tries to contact them one day. The exception to the rule is men who kill their wives. They often begin purging all traces of their spouses within days of their vanishings, so eager are they to start new lives.
Josh Powell appeared to be that kind of husband.
To Susan’s closest Utah friends—her Mormon sisters Kiirsi, JoVonna, Debbie, Rachel, Amber, Michele, and Barbara—it was inconceivable that Josh was moving away from West Valley City.
Kiirsi talked to Debbie and the others about it.
“How could he leave Susan, wherever she is?” Debbie asked.
“You know the answer,” Kiirsi said.
Debbie still wanted to believe that the worst possible thing hadn’t occurred right under their noses.
“Why didn’t he stay and help look for her?” she asked.
This time Kiirsi didn’t reply. Her doubts had deepened, but she still believed there was a slim chance that Susan was alive somewhere.
When Josh returned to W. Sarah Circle in early January to pack up his house, members of the ward and even suspicious friends pitched in. Kiirsi, for one, sought to stay in Josh’s good graces, though it sickened her. She did so to see if Josh would confide in her about what he’d done.
With John at work, Kiirsi sat her three children down in their cozy house not far from the Powells’. Charlie and Braden had been a part of their lives since birth, and Kiirsi wanted her children to understand what was going on. Ciara was ten, Bran was barely nine, and Nia had just turned seven.
Kiirsi spoke in that gentle but clear way of hers. She didn’t mince words. She just couldn’t find a way to sugarcoat the awful reality of what she needed to say.
She took a breath. “You know that Josh may have killed Susan,” she said.
The kids looked up at her, their eyes widening.
“I think if we stay his friends,” she went on, “and he feels he can trust us, he’ll tell us something about where she is. Is it okay with you, knowing he may be a murderer, for him to come into our house? Daddy and I will be here the whole time.”
The children looked worried, but said nothing.
Kiirsi prodded them a little. “If you don’t want him to, he will not set foot in the house.”
“It’s okay, Mama,” Ciara finally said. “We understand. We really want to help find Susan.”
“I promise you that when you go to bed at night we will make sure he leaves, we will lock the door, and we will turn the alarm on. He will not go upstairs. I promise he will not hurt you. He will not come near you.”
The kids nodded and said they understood. In turn, each one gave Kiirsi a hug.
Josh came to John and Kiirsi’s house a couple of times, to eat something, to take a break, to ask for something he needed in order to pack. He was still working on his Web site for Susan. Josh planted himself on the couch with the borrowed laptop and created SusanPowell.org, a site that soon had Susan’s friends questioning Josh’s motives.
It was a bizarre mix of self-aggrandizement and hate. As time passed, Josh or Steve or Alina added subject headings such as “Mormons Mobilize Against Susan Powell and Family,” and “False Claims About Josh and Susan Powell.” It was tantamount to a smear campaign targeted at a missing mom. Instead of the lovely photos of Susan that had circulated in the local and national press, the team behind SusanPowell.org seemed to use the most unflattering images they could find. Josh said it was to show that Susan wasn’t “perfect.”
There was more that made Kiirsi’s blood boil. The site was more about Josh than Susan. It read like a dating profile.
Josh … enjoys gardening, woodworking, and building construction projects. He knows a few songs on the piano and guitar. And he has been known to sing a song when the mood hits.… Josh is very involved in his children’s lives and every day he includes the children in many hobbies, educational events, and outdoor activities.
While Josh continued to drop in at the Hellewells, Kiirsi didn’t ask many questions.
“I was afraid he would run and not come talk to us again,” she said later. “And I was hoping and hoping that he would tell us something. I even asked the police, ‘Should I put on a hysterical crying show?’ And they said, ‘Well, if you think it will help. I really don’t think he’s gonna tell you anything.’ So I did. And it wasn’t hard to work up real tears—the anguish of missing Susan was always there, just under the surface. I was crying really hard and I said to Josh, ‘I miss her so much. I just don’t know what could have happened to her.’ And he was just kind of looking down and not saying anything and he started crying, too. And I said, ‘Josh, when Elizabeth Smart went missing her dad was accused, and he hated it, but he cooperated with the police in every possible way because he knew that the faster his name was cleared, the faster they could find out who took his daughter.’ I said, ‘If you’re innocent and have nothing to hide, what do you have against cooperating with the police? Why won’t you go talk to them and fill them in?’ He wouldn’t answer me. He just stared at the ground.
“It was a huge change from how he used to be, bragging and talking at the top of his voice, talking over you and arguing. He did break down and cry several times at my house but wouldn’t say why. And to me, it wasn’t like ‘My wife is gone. I’m so sad, help me find her.’ It was kind of like, ‘I’ve done a horrible thing and now I’m feeling … whatever.’”
* * *
As they stood in the kitchen of the half-empty house on W. Sarah Circle, Josh surveyed the scene and asked Kiirsi to pack the kitchen things for the move to Puyallup.
“Could I pack her clothes instead?” she asked, adding that she wanted to do something more personal for her friend than boxing up dishes and utensils. There were others who didn’t know Susan all that well helping out, too.
“They can do the kitchen stuff,” Kiirsi said. “I don’t want strangers touching her personal things.”
Josh looked around and shrugged. It didn’t seem to matter to him what anyone did, as long as everything got done and he could leave town. Kiirsi started to retreat down the hall to the bedroom, stepping past the half-filled boxes that were a sad reminder that Susan was absent.
Kiirsi wanted to gauge Josh’s reaction to Susan’s personal belongings. Did he care about them? Did he have something to hide?
She turned and caught his eye. “You know, we can store her things at my house so you don’t have to haul them to Washington.”
Josh hesitated. “No, I’ll take them with me,” he said. “She might come back … or something.”
Josh busied himself with the Christmas tree which had not been fully decorated that season. He packed up the tree lights and the ornaments Susan loved, and eight years of married life, while Kiirsi sorted Susan’s belongings in the master bedroom.
In a very real way, it was like packing up after someone’s death. Things of little value carry great importance, reminders of the per
son missing from the scene. Kiirsi could remember when she had last seen Susan in a favorite top, or wearing special earrings that now rested in her jewelry box, or even one of those old wolf T-shirts she loved so much. Each item was more than just a garment or an adornment, they were bits and pieces of Susan. The bags of yarn in particular flooded Kiirsi with emotion. She could visualize Susan sitting in the living room laughing and crocheting, making a blanket for one of her boys or for a new baby at church.
Lost in these memories for only a moment, Kiirsi picked up Susan’s favorite blue slippers. They were in sad shape from constant wear, but Susan loved them so much that she refused to throw them out.
As Kiirsi started to put them in the box, it suddenly occurred to her that Josh and his father might have stashed Susan somewhere and were in the midst of brainwashing her or beating her down by telling her that no one was ever going to find her or come for her. Telling her over and over that she was nothing and she had to submit to their will. Making her believe that her family, her friends, and her boys no longer loved or cared about her.
Kiirsi thought that if Josh had hidden Susan, he might need to bring her some clothes. She knew that he was too cheap to buy her anything new.
She set down the slippers and took a breath to listen. Josh was somewhere else in the house.
She would write Susan a note. It would give Susan some hope. And since she had only one pair of slippers, that might be a good place to hide it.
Kiirsi took a notepad and pen from Susan’s bedside table. She found some paper with crayon scribbles on one side. Susan had identified that little masterpiece as Braden’s artwork and written his name beside it. It was perfect. Not only could Kiirsi use the paper to send a message to Susan, the flipside would be a reminder of one of her babies.
She wrote Susan that everyone loved her, was missing her, and was searching for her. She ended her note with something she needed Susan to know.
I’ve remembered everything you told me and have told it all to the police.
She hurried because she was afraid Josh would walk in on her.
