Gone Forever

by Diane Fanning

  “Friday. She’s still in Amarillo.”

  Palmer then asked Rick to accompany him to the Terrell Hills Police Department to give a written statement. Rick refused to do so until he had spoken to an attorney. Palmer then informed him that the investigators were seeking a formal search warrant and he would need to vacate the premises.

  Palmer then went over to 356 Arcadia Place to take a look at the Suburban in the garage. Among the items he noted in the vehicle were an open twelve-pack of Sprite, a large quantity of Band-Aid packages in plastic shopping bags and a green military-style shovel. Another item of interest was a multi-tool. When it was tested, techs found a mixture of blood was predominately Susan’s with a commingling of some blood from Rick. In a bloodstain on one bag of charcoal taken from the garage, they found more of the same DNA combination.

  It was impossible to live within a block of 351 Arcadia and not be aware of the police activity there. In no time, the reason for their presence echoed through the neighborhood. When Carrie Miller heard that Sue was missing, she called Melissa St. John.

  Melissa did not hesitate before saying, “My God, that makes me sick. He killed her.”

  27

  At 8:15 on the morning of November 30, 2004, the Bexar County Magistrates’ Office issued a search warrant for the McFarland home, the Explorer and the Suburban. On the way to Arcadia Place, Wedding and Palmer stopped by the Texaco service center. Station owner Richard Clemmer was not at the station, but an employee showed the officers the board on the wall containing keys—the key to the Suburban hung there on a hook.

  They arrived at 351 Arcadia Place at 9 A.M. Roaming around the exterior of the home and into the garage, they shot photographs and looked at anything with possible evidentiary value. At noon, forensic experts from the Texas Department of Public Safety Crime Laboratory Service joined the investigators.

  They started their work in the Suburban across the street, swabbing, taking tape lifts and cataloguing the contents of the vehicle—from a military-style shovel to a packet of receipts to empty Wyler’s Authentic Italian Ices wrappers.

  In the middle of the search, Wedding and Palmer got a call from a patrolman at the Texaco service center. Richard Clemmer said that only one person ever test drove the Suburban. That person wrote a name, Mark Lynn, and a phone number in Clemmer’s message pad. The number was phony—they could only assume the name was, too.

  Crime lab personnel turned next to the white Ford Windstar van. On the front passenger seat headrest, they swabbed a suspected bloodstain.

  In the house, the forensics team swabbed at every suspicious stain they saw, starting with a spot on the threshold of the side door and moving through the hallway and up the stairs to the master bedroom and bath. Investigators gathered toothbrushes, clothing, tools and latex gloves. From Rick’s second-floor office, they confiscated a .380 semi-automatic handgun and a magazine—neither contained any ammunition. On a shelf near the door, Palmer found two wooden boxes filled with Sheffield knives and an assortment of multi-purpose tools.

  At a quarter till 8 that evening, the work was done. Palmer left a message for Rick McFarland to that effect. On the table in the family room, he left a copy of the search warrant and an inventory list of the items seized.

  The investigative team then proceeded to the impound lot for a thorough search of the Ford Explorer. They documented and bagged every item in Sue’s SUV and swabbed all suspected spots of blood. Palmer noted that although there were no floor mats in the car, dimples in the carpet indicated their recent presence there.

  In St. Louis, Ann spent a major part of her day on the telephone. She talked to family and friends. She called every Gary Long in the phone book in an attempt to reach Sue’s supervisor over the weekend. Late Saturday evening, she finally connected with the right Gary Long.

  She also made plans for her departure the next day. She wanted company on the trip, but she also wanted the most appropriate and useful person to come along. She decided on Kirsten—not only was she close to Sue, but, more important, she was close to the boys, and they would need someone they trusted.

  Of all the calls Ann made that day, the most disturbing and depressing was the conversation she had with her brother, Pete Smith.

  Pete was a retired homicide investigator. He told his sister, “This is bad. This is really bad. It’s not going to come out well.”

  28

  Rick was with his children at the Cromacks’ house on Elizabeth Road in Terrell Hills. The police posted a team in front to monitor Rick’s activity.

  When Margot got up Saturday morning, the kids were all gathered around the television, but Rick could not be found anywhere. She went over to 351 Arcadia and asked if Rick McFarland was there, or if the officers knew where he was.

  Everyone there thought he was at Margot’s house. At some point, early in the morning, out of sight of his spotters, Rick slipped out the back door and was not seen for the rest of the day.

  Margot spent the whole day cooking for six hungry kids. She tried to reach Rick without success all day long and into the night.

  At 5 A.M. Sunday morning, Rick knocked on the door of a Bible study friend, Attorney Corbin Snow. Rick said he needed a shower and an attorney. Snow had a detached guest house with a kitchen and a bath. He allowed Rick to use it to clean up and take a nap.

  Rick left behind the clothes he wearing on November 29—a pair of red wine-colored pants, a pair of boxer shorts and a white pullover shirt. Later, an aluminum Little League baseball bat was found under the bed. The bat was scratched and had a large chip missing out of the end. After a thorough examination, none of these items was of any evidentiary value.

  On Sunday, officers released 356 Arcadia and Harriet returned to her house. While she was there, Rick called Ned Wells, saying that he had spoken to their Realtor the week before and now needed her name and phone number.

  Ned did not feel in a helpful mood and played dumb. Rick blathered on. “I’m trying to work on my time line.”

  “Well, Rick, her sign is still in our front yard, you can look out your window and see it.”

  “No, I can’t,” Rick said. “I’m at a remote location.”

  Ned could only shake his head. Remote location? Man, this guy is weird.

  Realtor Deborah Mills received several calls from the same number that day. She suspected they were from Rick and, not wanting a repeat of the last strange encounter, did not answer. The caller did not leave any messages.

  Ann and Kirsten drove down to San Antonio in the belief that they would return home in a day or two. They were convinced that Sue would show up at work on Monday morning with some incredible tale that would explain the whole mystery.

  After all, they had never seen any violence from Rick. They didn’t think he had the concentration or creativity to conceive and follow through on a lethal plot. They did not believe that Sue would allow Rick to get the best of her.

  29

  William told Doug Cromack about the injury on his dad’s hand. Doug, a hand surgeon, insisted on looking at it when Rick returned on Sunday. Doug examined the finger with the missing tip, he was surprised at the severity of the wound. He dressed it and gave Rick advice on its care.

  On Sunday night, Rick and Margot argued about the boys going back to school. Margot thought it would be good for them to slip back into their normal routine. Rick objected, “People will make fun of them. They need to be with me. They need me.”

  No matter what Margot said, Rick was adamant.

  But the next morning, Rick told her that he would take the boys to school. Margot left the house with her kids, dropped them off and then went to the gym to work out. After that, she went over to her youngest daughter Ellen’s school to perform her weekly volunteer duties in the classroom. Ellen was in the same class as James McFarland. When Margot arrived, James was not there. She remembered Sue’s long-held fear that one day Rick would grab the kids and take off for parts unknown. Margot flew straight back home.

/>   To her relief, the boys were all in the backyard playing in the treehouse. Was Rick with them? Of course not. He was in the back room of the house talking on the telephone. Margot was furious.

  “Rick, have you called your pediatrician?”

  “Why should I call my pediatrician?”

  “Did you call the psychiatrist?”

  “Why?”

  Margot was flabbergasted. “Haven’t you even thought about getting support or counseling for the boys?”

  Rick just shrugged and walked away.

  Despite Rick’s insistence that the boys needed him and needed to be with him, Rick disappeared with great frequency during his stay at the Cromack home. He wasn’t there for meals. He wasn’t there to tuck the boys into bed for the night.

  Margot urged him to stay at home, but he did not listen. The kids were shattered. She and her husband stood in as best they could. Margot snuggled with them, played games with them and talked to them about everything under the sun. Doug—who as a rule, never made it home from the hospital in time for dinner—left work early each night to eat with the boys and fill the gap created by Rick’s absence.

  30

  On Monday, December 2, investigators arrived at Southwestern Bell Corporation on the Riverwalk in downtown San Antonio. During the search of Sue’s work station, they found a time sheet. On it, her vacation time for that week was spelled out—she had planned to leave two hours early on Wednesday, November 27. There was no indication that she did not intend to be at work the Tuesday before that.

  The officers listened to Sue’s voicemail messages, found documents related to her pending divorce and retrieved the last document entered on her computer. They also brushed against the heart and soul of Sue McFarland—a Disney Cruise Line folder that embodied her love of her children, and a list of books to read that included one prescient title, The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold, the story of a young girl who after her death sat in heaven and followed the lives of her loved ones on earth.

  While Sue’s office was searched, Ann and Kirsten went to the Terrell Hills Police Department and got an update on the missing persons investigation. They did not pick up on the officers’ suspicions about Rick.

  Then they went to the Cromack home to visit with the boys and talk to Rick. Timmy was up in the treehouse when they arrived.

  He hollered down, “Auntie Ann, Kirsten! Our mom is dead.”

  “We don’t know that,” Ann said. “That’s why we’re here—to help find out what happened to your mom.”

  When they talked to Rick, Ann tiptoed around her questions hoping to find a logical but indirect and non-offensive path to the information she wanted from her brother-in-law.

  Impatient, Kirsten butted in. “Cut to the chase. What the hell happened to her, Rick? What do you think happened to Sue?”

  “She went to drop off some things in a not very good neighborhood. She went to drop them off and she was out of her car unloading stuff and she was seen by some Guido in a low-rider,” he said. “He came by, hit her on the head, abducted her and had his way with her. She’s been car-jacked.”

  Ann and Kirsten noticed the cuts all over Rick’s hands and arms. He explained that he had been out jogging and ran into a bush. Then they asked about the missing tip on his little finger. Rick said that he was cutting something with a saw and the saw slipped. Rick then complained that the police weren’t doing anything.

  “Have you given them permission to check stuff out—to search the house?” Ann asked.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Well, go down to the police station and find out.”

  “Ann, would you go with me?”

  “Of course.”

  Since Kirsten wanted to be at the station, too, and Margot needed to leave her house, there was a question about what to do with the boys.

  Rick thought it would be fine to leave them at Margot’s without adult supervision. The three women vetoed that idea.

  Ann and Kirsten went to the Terrell Hills Police Department. Kate Kohl, executive director of the Heidi Search Center, called the station earlier and asked Sergeant Wedding to pass the center’s phone number on to the family. Ann and Kirsten did not call. They drove straight over to the center’s office in Windsor Park Mall. The staff overwhelmed the two women with the depth of their concern and understanding. “They were a guiding and calming force in a time of desperation, unknowing and fear,” Kirsten said.

  Later that day, Sue’s supervisor, Gary Long, returned a call from Rick McFarland. Rick claimed he wanted to find anyone who had seen Sue on Tuesday. He said, “Until a body is found or Susan shows up, I am the main suspect.”

  Rick also called Julie Speer. Three times he left voice-mail messages. Once he spoke to her husband. Every time, he requested that Julie give him a call. When she finally got back to him, she asked how he was doing.

  “Bad,” he said. “What did you and Susan talk about?”

  “Do you mean what did we talk about when I was there Wednesday?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Did Susan mention where she would be going?”

  “No,” Julie said. “Where do you think she might have gone?”

  “Susan told me she was going to Amarillo with the boys. Me and the boys are always the last to know Susan’s plans.”

  “What were you going to do when they left?”

  “Since Susan is always nagging me about cleaning up the office, I decided to clean it. She harps so much about the office. What was the name of the mechanic you referred Susan to?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Me and Susan were looking at purchasing a car.”

  “She didn’t mention that to me,” Julie said.

  “She said a friend referred her to a mechanic. I liked a Jeep, but Susan liked a Suburban. So, of course, we were going to get the Suburban.”

  “I don’t know a mechanic that could help with a Suburban.”

  “What did Susan drop off for you Monday?”

  “Susan did not drop anything off.”

  Rick asked the same question two more times, despite her denial. The conversation was striking a dissonant chord that made Julie uncomfortable. Nothing Rick said felt spontaneous—it was as if he had a list of questions and was checking them off one by one.

  “What can you tell me about the chair in the Explorer?” Rick continued.

  “What chair?”

  “The rocker. Why is it in the Explorer?”

  Julie remembered that rocker—the one Sue inherited from her mother. It was broken and Sue had said Rick hated it. “I told her where to have it repaired,” Julie said.

  On the morning of December 3, Rick, Ann and Kirsten met with the Heidi Search Center staff at the Terrell Hills Police Department for a briefing on the next steps. After that, the search experts got to work.

  With a dog team from Greater Bexar Search and Rescue, Kate Kohl and Vanessa Hanes from the center covered the lot on Lazy Lane where the police found Sue’s Explorer. While they searched, the ever-efficient Mary Dry kept the phones answered and the center’s office opened and operational.

  The dogs keyed in on the spot where Sue’s vehicle had been parked. This scent did not mean Sue had ever been to that location. It only meant that enough of her smell had drifted from the car when the door was opened for the sensitive noses of the search dogs to recognize it. The canines sniffed every square inch of the lot, but did not stir up any answers. The scent of hope was fading fast in Terrell Hills.

  31

  At the request of law enforcement, a handful of searchers then went to Holbrook Park, where the McFarland boys had taken horse-riding lessons. They scoured the territory from Eisenhauer Road down to the Fort Sam Houston Army Base.

  The search for Susan McFarland was already taking a different path from most of the center’s searches. Usually, they started in a small area where the missing person was last seen and slowly expanded the search parameters in a big circle around that spot.

  With
this effort, however, they jumped around the city following leads from law enforcement and Ann Carr. Often, they sent out small reconnaissance teams to scope out an area for a possible full-blown search.

  The day the searching began, Rick stopped by the Texaco service center again. When he pulled up, Richard Clemmer recognized him as the man he’d seen in the news whose wife was missing and said, “I was sorry to hear about your wife.”

  “Thank you,” Rick responded. “Have you talked to the police?”

  “No.”

  “I want to talk to you before you talk to the police. I want to get our stories straight. I did not steal the Suburban. I took it so my wife could check it out. I took it on Saturday after I’d seen you. I want you to tell the police that you gave me the keys.”

  Rick also requested that Clemmer question the police about what had been found in the Suburban. Then he said, “The strange thing is that the Suburban has the wrong plates on it. The plates belong to another Suburban. Do you know anything about that?”

  “No,” said Clemmer.

  “If we keep our stories straight, everything will be okay. I’ll buy you a steak when this is all over.” Rick wrote down his name and phone number. Clemmer knew right away it was not the same one he’d given the week before. He went to the message book to double-check his memory and discovered the message was gone. In fact, the whole page had been ripped from the book.

  At 3:45, Richard Clemmer was at the Terrell Hills Police Department telling the whole sequence of events to Palmer and Wedding. He signed a statement and agreed to allow his phone conversations with Rick McFarland to be recorded.

  After several fruitless attempts, Clemmer finally reached Rick on his phone at 9:45. “Rick?”

  “Yes. It’s Richard?”

  “Yes, sir. Well, they had me in the hot seat this afternoon,” Clemmer said.

  “What do you mean, that uh . . .”

  “The Terrell Hills Police Department.”