Gone Forever

by Diane Fanning

  Charlene didn’t know it at the time, but she was probably hearing the sound of Rick cutting up the love seat that sat in the master bedroom on the wall next to the bath. The discovery of charred springs in the trailer with Susan’s body made it a possible scenario. Did Rick destroy it because Sue was so fond of it? Or because he never cared for it? Or did it need to be obliterated because it was covered with evidence of a violent attack three nights before?

  The love seat—a legacy from Sue’s mother—was never seen again after that day. Before Sue disappeared, it was her favorite spot to sit and read stories to her boys before they went to bed.

  When Wesley Miller went over to the McFarland house to jump on the trampoline, his mother, Carrie, told him to come back in five minutes. “We have family Thanksgiving things to do and the McFarlands do, too,” she said.

  When Wesley did not return as instructed, Carrie sent her teenage son Billy over to get him. The front door was answered by Timmy. Inside, the house was dark and gloomy. Timmy yelled for Wesley, but got no answer.

  Rick McFarland—in blue jeans and no shirt—opened a door at the top of the stairs and said, “The kids are playing in the backyard.” Then he stepped back into the room and closed the door behind him.

  Billy went around back and asked William what his family was doing for Thanksgiving.

  “Nothing,” William said.

  Wesley wanted to bring James home with him for Thanksgiving dinner. Billy told him he couldn’t, then took his little brother home.

  That afternoon, Rick called Dee Ann Dowlen’s cell phone. “Who is this?” he asked.

  “It’s Dee Ann Dowlen, Rick.”

  “Oh, happy Thanksgiving. I thought this was George’s phone,” he said. Then he went on to explain that he was setting up his phone book on his DSL. He was getting the DSL going because Susan didn’t like not having a computer at home. Switching subjects, he asked, “Thank you for the three cheese pizzas from Little Caesars.”

  “Rick, why would I send you pizzas for Thanksgiving?”

  “I don’t know. It said ‘Happy Thanksgiving’ on it and I thought it was from you. The pizzas came on Tuesday.”

  Wanting to end this nonsensical train of conversation, Dee Ann asked, “How is your Thanksgiving going?”

  “Kind of funky. The pizzas came on Wednesday. Could I speak to Susan?”

  “Rick, you know Susan’s not here.”

  “She wasn’t here, so I thought she might have come up there. William said she was going to Amarillo.”

  “The kids are with you, right?”

  “Yeah. I’m just hanging out with the boys.”

  “Susan wouldn’t come without the boys. She cancelled her plans to come to Amarillo on Monday,” Dee Ann said.

  “What do you think is going on with Susan?”

  “I’m not the person you should be talking to about this, Rick.” Dee Ann balked at giving any other response, because she did not know if Susan had told Rick about her divorce plans or not.

  It was almost 6 P.M.—nearly fifteen hours after being informed of the discovery of his wife’s car in a vacant lot—before Rick managed to show up at the police station to file a missing persons report. He was wearing white canvas work gloves—they appeared brand new—and a long-sleeved jacket.

  He told Corporal Delgado that his wife was supposed to be in Amarillo on Monday. Later in the conversation, he contradicted himself, saying that Susan told him on Monday that she would be going to Amarillo later in the week. The last time he saw her, Rick said, was at 9:30 on Monday night when she left the house to deliver gifts to friends in the area. He claimed she never came home that night and he had not seen her since.

  It struck Delgado as quite odd that three nights had passed without Rick making any effort to locate his wife. Rick then claimed that he’d jogged to the area where Piccolella told him where he could locate the car, but was unable to find it. Delgado led the way to the Explorer as Rick followed him in his Windstar van. As Delgado approached the area on Lazy Lane, he realized Susan’s SUV was in plain view—in the exact location that Piccolella described. He did not believe a jogging man could have run down this way and not seen the vehicle.

  Delgado looked at the Explorer and saw a wingback chair, several plastic storage bins, a child’s car seat, a gift basket and other items inside, but did not see any obvious signs of foul play. Rick stood in the lot some distance from his wife’s car and stared for ten minutes. He never made a move to approach the vehicle. Then he said, “I have three young children at home and I want to go home and care for them.” Delgado said he would call him at home if anything was found.

  When Delgado called he said he would like to visit Rick. Rick insisted that he did not want any police coming to his home. He’d come by the police station the next day. Rick did not ask if his wife had been found and expressed no interest in any clues or leads the police might have uncovered.

  As soon as he got off of the phone, Rick went through the house turning off all of the lights.

  That night, Delgado called his friend Charlene Schooling. “Do you have some time to gossip?”

  “About what?”

  “Your neighbors.”

  “Which ones?”

  “The McFarlands.”

  “Oh, him,” Charlene said in a derisive tone.

  “No. Her.”

  “Susan?”

  “Yeah. She’s missing.”

  “What do you mean, missing?”

  “Rick reported her missing this evening.”

  “What?”

  “We thought she was in Amarillo, but we found her car off Ivy Lane.”

  “What?”

  “The key was in the ignition.”

  “What?”

  “And the car was unlocked.”

  “Where are the boys?” Charlene asked.

  “With Rick.”

  “Something is wrong. She would not have gone without the boys.”

  About 2 A.M., Piccolella picked up Charlene and took her down Ivy Lane to Lazy Lane to Sue’s Ford Explorer. Charlene walked around the vehicle and peered through the windows explaining what she recognized and what struck her as odd.

  “He’s done something with her,” she said after her inspection. “Do not let him have this car.”

  “We’ve already made arrangements for him to pick up the keys tomorrow.”

  “Do not let him have those keys. Please. Something is wrong here.”

  24

  November 29, 2002. The day after Thanksgiving. Unlike every other Thanksgiving Friday since she’d lived in Texas, Sue McFarland did not rise at 5 A.M. and dress in the dark. She did not scurry out of the house to make her annual pilgrimage to Toys “R” Us for the after-Thanksgiving sale. She did not fight her way through crowds with a good friend by her side guarding her cart from other desperate shoppers.

  Only one person knew why Sue had missed her bargain-hunting ritual. He did not share his insight with anyone.

  At 7 A.M., Officer Mitchell from the Terrell Hills Police Department knocked on the Cromacks’ front door. Since it was a holiday weekend, everyone was still in bed. Margot invited him in and listened while he explained that he was looking for Sue McFarland.

  “Sue’s very independent,” she told him. “I’m sure she and the boys will be fine.”

  Margot saw a strange look wash over the policeman’s face. “The boys?” he asked.

  “Yes. Her boys. She wouldn’t go anywhere without her boys.”

  “The boys have been home all week with Rick.”

  Alarms rang in Margot’s head. Sue did not trust Rick with the kids alone. Then Officer Mitchell told her that they’d found Sue’s car just a short distance from her home. The warning blares were so loud in Margot’s head now, she could barely hear anything else the policeman had to say.

  As soon as he left, she made a beeline for Arcadia Place. She found Rick at home with his three sons. William told Margot that his dad had cut his finger. When Rick came
downstairs, he was wearing gloves on both hands. Margot asked to see his injury, but Rick refused to take off the gloves.

  Rick told her he was upset because the police wanted to go through the house.

  “The police can come in and look in Sue’s closet and figure out if she took off on a trip or what happened to her. If you’ve done nothing wrong, you have nothing to fear. They can help you.”

  Rick continued to express discomfort over allowing them into the house, now claiming he was concerned about the boys.

  Margot wanted nothing more than an excuse to get the boys away from Rick, and here it was. “Why don’t you let me take the boys while you let the cops in your house?”

  “I’ll think about it,” Rick said.

  Over at the Miller house, Carrie asked the visiting William McFarland what his family did for Thanksgiving.

  “Nothing,” William said.

  “I haven’t seen your mom lately.”

  “She’s in Amarillo on a business trip.”

  In Amarillo, Dee Ann Dowlen called Rick that morning to ask about Sue. Rick said he had not seen her since Monday and offered no additional information. A little while later, she called again. Unease settled over her like a storm cloud. The greeting on the home phone voicemail was changed. It now said: “This is DOTNETA Partners. Rick McFarland’s office.”

  At 10:30 A.M., daytime patrol officer Sergeant Rick Trevino went to Lazy Lane to confirm that the black Ford Explorer was still there. He opened the front door on the passenger’s side and saw a suspicious spot of red on the console between the seats. He called in an impound order.

  Alamo Wrecker Service hauled the SUV to the Terrell Hills Police Department, where it was wrapped with yellow crime-scene tape. Then it was towed to the authorized storage facility.

  After seeing to Sue’s car, Sergeant Trevino went to 351 Arcadia Place, where the front door was answered by Wesley Miller. “Is your dad here?”

  “I am not the son in this house. This is my friend’s house and I don’t know if he’s still here,” Wesley said, then went upstairs to search, but could not find Rick.

  James was at the front door when Wesley came down the stairs. Trevino asked James to go get his mother.

  “You can’t disturb her,” he said. “She is in a very deep sleep.”

  “Then get your dad.”

  “He’s asleep, too,” James said, but would not go look for his parents.

  Soon after Trevino left, Rick was in the living room yelling, “Goddammit! You were supposed to tell him that I went jogging.”

  Just before 1, Rosa Garcia from My Day Cleaning Service entered 351 Arcadia Place for her weekly house-cleaning assignment. Rick was not at home, but the three boys were there, along with Wesley Miller. As Rosa cleaned, she observed that the house was neater than usual, and she noticed two missing items: the round white trash can from the master bath and the VCR from the master bedroom. But she did not attach any significance to the absence of the items.

  Usually when she finished she retrieved a $40 check signed by Susan McFarland from under a magnet on the refrigerator. On this day, there was no check.

  Rick stopped by the Terrell Hills police station. When he saw Sergeant Trevino, he asked, “Could this have been a carjacking?”

  “Carjackers normally take the vehicle. It is not the norm to carjack someone and then drop the vehicle off only a few blocks from where they live,” the officer said. “When the vehicle is found later, it is normally stripped, burned or wrecked, but hardly ever with the keys left in it. If this was a case of carjacking, whoever did it was stupid and careless.”

  Rick said nothing, but appeared incensed at Trevino’s comments as he left the station.

  Trevino called Amarillo to see if he could get any information from Dee Ann Dowlen. He told her he was investigating a missing persons report filed by Richard McFarland. After establishing that she had no idea of Sue’s location, Dee Ann asked, “Don’t you know she has a large family?”

  “I just know that her mother and father are dead,” Trevino said. For some reason, that was the only information about Sue’s family that Rick shared.

  “She has brothers, a sister, nieces, nephews and cousins in Missouri,” Dee Ann said, and gave him Ann Carr’s phone number.

  When Trevino presented all of this information to the investigating officer, it was decision time for Detective Sergeant Boyd Wedding. There was possible blood in the missing woman’s car. Terrell Hills did not have a crime lab. This case had the potential for being bigger than any ever handled by the men at the department. They’d had a murder in June, but before that, there had not been a homicide in Terrell Hills in ten years. The thirteen-person department handled two robberies—neither one armed—thirty-four burglaries and no rapes in the previous year. It was one of the safest communities for miles and as such, the police department was inexperienced in serious crime.

  If Sue McFarland was dead, the Terrell Hills Police Department needed help to put the perpetrator behind bars. Wedding was not too proud to ask. He called Texas Ranger Shawn Palmer for assistance.

  Dee Ann Dowlen started the day concerned about her friend Sue. The call from the police elevated her worry to alarm. She called Rick again and demanded to know what was going on.

  “Rick,” Dee Ann said, “when was the last time you saw Sue?”

  “She got up early for work on Tuesday. When I called there, someone told me she just left.”

  “How could you not tell me that she’s missing?”

  “Well, there’s this little deal where they found the car,” he said.

  “What are you talking about, Rick?”

  “The police found Susan’s car.”

  “Where?”

  “A couple of blocks from here.”

  “Then why the hell did you think she was in Amarillo?”

  “It was probably a mugger, because of the missing electronic equipment.”

  “What kind of equipment?” Dee Ann asked.

  “DVDs and VCRs,” Rick said. “Do you think Susan has a boyfriend?”

  “What?”

  “I read in this book that they always blame it on the husband.”

  “Blame what on the husband?”

  “The book said that the husband is always a suspect.”

  “What book are you talking about, Rick?”

  “Some book I read in college.”

  “I’m calling Sue’s sister right now,” a shaken Dee Ann said and hung up the phone.

  Rick decided he’d better be the first to call Ann. “Do you know where Susan is?” he asked.

  “What do you mean, do I know where Susan is?” Ann gestured to her husband to pick up the other phone.

  “Do you think . . . Do you know . . . Do you think she would . . .” Rick stammered.

  “What are you asking me, Rick?”

  “Do you think she would go off?”

  “Are you trying to ask me if Sue is having an affair?”

  “Yes.”

  “Absolutely not. She does not have time for an affair. She has to work a job,” Ann snapped.

  Rick mumbled incoherently.

  “Rick, put Sue on the phone.”

  “I don’t know where Susan is now,” he said, then mumbled something indistinct that sounded as if he wanted to get off the line.

  “Don’t hang up the phone, Rick,” Ann ordered.

  “I got to go now,” Rick replied and ended the call.

  Ann and her husband talked about the bizarre conversation. They had more questions than answers. Then, they got a call from Dee Ann, who related the conversation from her phone call with Rick.

  When Ann got off of the phone, she called both of her brothers. Then she thought that it would be courteous to call the elder McFarlands also. When she informed Mona of the situation, the response she received stunned her.

  “We know Susan disappeared,” Mona said. “We think she is having an affair.”

  Harley Smith, Sue’s oldest brother, pla
ced a call to his daughter. Kirsten was in the parking lot of Tuesday Morning, one of Sue’s favorite shops, when her cell phone rang. Harley told Kirsten that Sue was missing. Like the rest of the family, Kirsten was surprised, confused and concerned.

  Rick next called Blanca Hernandez and told her about the discovery of Sue’s car, then asked, “Do you think Susan is having a rendezvous?”

  “I think Sue might have needed some time,” Blanca said.

  “Something bad must have happened, and the husband is always a suspect. Could you tell the boys about Susan’s disappearance?”

  Blanca advised him to call William’s psychiatrist.

  About 3 P.M., Rick called the Matthews home. Bill answered and Rick asked to speak to Molly. When Bill said she was not there, Rick asked, “When was the last time you saw Susan?”

  “What’s going on, Rick?”

  “Susan’s missing. Her car has been found in a field off Lazy Lane with the keys inside.”

  “Did you call the police?”

  “They called me when they found the car. When she left the house, she had two DVDs, a thirteen-inch television and a shiny new laptop in the back of the car. They’re not there now.”

  “Where are the boys?”

  “They’re with me.”

  That simple sentence shattered the Matthewses’ illusion that all was well. It destroyed their theory that Sue had packed up the kids and hauled out to Amarillo and just wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. Something was wrong. They knew that without a doubt. But the thought that Rick was responsible never crossed their minds.

  Bill suggested actions Rick could take to help locate his wife—like going on line to determine credit card activity. But Rick did not seem interested in doing anything to track her down.

  25

  Across the street from the McFarlands’, Harriet Wells dropped by her house, which was now up for sale. Her new home was nearby, keeping her connected to the neighborhood grapevine. As was her usual practice, she pulled into the rear driveway where her comings and goings would be out of sight of Rick McFarland.