Poisoned Love

by Caitlin Rother

  Kristin said she and Michael were both confused about what to do with their respective marriages, but she was thinking she should go to counseling with Greg or spend some time away from him so she could decide whether she ultimately wanted to stay married.

  Sometime after Prager moved to the Bay Area in September, Kristin called to say that she’d told Greg about the affair, but he wanted her to stay and try to work things out.

  As always, Prager encouraged Kristin to follow her heart. “I could never understand why she didn’t want to get a divorce,” she said.

  Kristin asked if the studio at the Pragers’ house in Encinitas was available. Prager said Kristin also asked if she would consider moving down to San Diego so they could share an apartment together.

  On September 21, Kristin took a trip to Tijuana, where she saw Dr. Victor M. Martinez. He wrote her a prescription in Spanish for Somacid, a muscle relaxant that many American doctors won’t prescribe because it can be addictive. He also wrote her a prescription for a drug called Asenlix in Mexico and Clobenzorex in the United States, a diet pill that metabolizes like amphetamine, or speed. The drug literature says it’s not intended for people with drug or alcohol addictions.

  Kristin later admitted that by taking the diet pills, she had gone into relapse. “Relapse” is a therapeutic term that encompasses the problems, thoughts, and actions that lead recovering addicts to begin taking their drug of choice again. This combination of factors works in a chain reaction, similar to a line of dominos falling, one at a time, until the last one knocks the addict down.

  The week before Kristin and Michael left for the October SOFT conference, they each submitted travel request and expense forms to the office administrator, Lloyd Amborn, with the estimated cost of their trip. Amborn said nothing of their plans to leave San Diego on Saturday, September 30, two days before the conference started, and to return from Milwaukee on Saturday, October 7, the day after it ended. Each made a notation that personal time would be included in the trip.

  Sometime before the trip, Amborn confronted Michael about the rumored affair for the third time, and Michael continued to deny it. So, Amborn approved the expense forms for meals, separate hotel rooms for Kristin and Michael, airline tickets, a shuttle, and registration, which cost taxpayers a total of $2,691. It’s unclear whether Amborn knew until afterwards that the two of them planned to stay at the Inn Towne Hotel, a different hotel from the one hosting the conference, the Hyatt Regency.

  On September 22, Kristin e-mailed her old friend, Frank Barnhart, at the sheriff’s crime lab. She told him how busy it had been over at the “house of death” and asked if he still intended to attend the conference. She told him that she and Michael were going to arrive on Saturday, and that she was scheduled to give a fifteen-minute presentation on a strychnine death case the following Friday.

  “I’m petrified, but I’ll get over it,” she wrote, signing the note with the nickname he’d given her, “Lil Bandit.”

  Barnhart could not believe that the county was paying to send her to an out-of-town conference. In the twenty-nine years he worked there, he couldn’t think of a single time they’d paid for him to do that. He teased her about that over the phone, so she e-mailed him to ask if he still loved her. Yes, he wrote back, he did. Barnhart didn’t understand why Kristin was going to Milwaukee on Saturday, since the conference wouldn’t really get going until late Sunday or early Monday morning.

  That same day Greg e-mailed Kristin with some suggestions on how to use computer graphics to help illustrate the chemical structure of strychnine for her presentation. He seemed eager to help make it easier for her since she’d worked so hard on it. A week later—the day before she was to leave on her trip—Greg e-mailed her with an 800 number she could use to call home while she was away. He wished her luck on her “practice talk” and asked her to call and let him know how it went.

  Before Michael left for the trip, he and Nicole decided to separate. On October 5, Nicole wrote him a letter to mark the start of their separation, which began the day he left for the SOFT conference. Assuming that he’d be feeling a similar sense of loss, she told him she knew what he’d be going through during his week away.

  After speaking with his sister the previous week, she told him she now understood that he had modeled their marriage on his parents’ and his behavior on his father’s. As Nicole saw it, their marriage would be destroyed if he did not come to terms with a few things. Just like his father, Michael seemed unable to commit to his wife. He didn’t know how to be in love over the long term because he was always chasing “the spark of falling in love.” And he didn’t know how to be loyal except to people who fed his self-esteem, such as “the needy women in the background.”

  Nicole said she didn’t feel he was being manipulative or nasty, it was just learned behavior, and bad behavior at that. But if he didn’t deal with these issues, they would haunt him forever. The separation would be difficult for both of them, she said, but she was hopeful their relationship could survive.

  Chapter 7

  Dan Anderson arrived at the conference on Sunday and was warned by another toxicologist in the bar that Michael and Nicole were having problems, that Michael was sleeping with someone else, and that he was going to leave Nicole. Anderson couldn’t believe it. He’d thought Nicole and Michael were so happy. He also didn’t think Michael was the kind of guy to cheat on his wife.

  “Little did I know him,” he said later.

  Because of this unsettling news, Anderson hoped to avoid Michael as much as possible that week. He didn’t want to have anything to do with the affair. Nonetheless, Anderson ended up going to the workshop on benzodiazepines that Michael was giving with four other toxicologists on Monday afternoon.

  Meanwhile, Anderson was all set to give his presentation on GHB. An article on fentanyl patches, which he’d coauthored and presented at the 1999 SOFT conference in Puerto Rico, had just been published in that month’s issue of the Journal of Analytical Toxicology and was being distributed at the Milwaukee SOFT conference. Entitled “Duragesic® Transdermal Patch: Postmortem Tissue Distribution of Fentanyl in 25 Cases,” the article analyzed twenty-five deaths, including three suicides, investigated by his toxicology lab in Los Angeles.

  Fentanyl, a short-acting narcotic painkiller about one hundred times more powerful than morphine, is in the same opiate family as heroin, morphine, and Demerol. Fentanyl acts on the central nervous system and, in excessive doses, can render users unconscious and can cause seizures, comas, severe breathing problems, nausea, and vomiting. Unavailable to the general public, the fast-acting opiate is often injected as an anesthetic during surgery or for short procedures where the patient needs to be out for only a brief time, such as wisdom teeth removal or endoscopies. The drug is so fast-acting that people who have purposely or accidentally overdosed on it have been found with syringes in their arms, in their hands, or lying next to their bodies. In October 2002, one hundred and seventeen people were killed when Russian security police used the drug in a gaseous form to end a hostage standoff in a Moscow theater, where Chechen rebels were holding eight hundred hostages.

  The fentanyl skin patch, similar to the nicotine patch for people trying to quit smoking, is most often used to treat chronic pain in cancer patients. Another form of administration is the berry-flavored lollipop, used for flare-ups in cancer pain and also as a sedative for children who are about to undergo surgery.

  The SOFT welcome reception was held Tuesday night at the Milwaukee Public Museum, a natural history museum with bones and dinosaur artifacts on display.

  Barnhart saw Kristin talking to Richard Shaw, who used to be his boss in San Diego when the Medical Examiner’s Office was called the Coroner’s Office. Barnhart came over, and Shaw noted that Kristin was very popular—all the men were gathering around to talk to her. Barnhart, joking that it wouldn’t do them any good, reached down to grab her left hand and said, “Because she’s married.”

  But when
he pulled up her hand, he saw that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. He asked Kristin where it was, and she said she’d left it back at the hotel room. Shaw could tell something was going on, but Barnhart didn’t want to see it. She was his friend.

  Kristin and Michael were together that night, but it wasn’t obvious to anyone who didn’t know that they were a couple. Michael came up to Anderson after they’d both had something to eat. He said he wanted to tell Anderson personally that his relationship with Nicole was on the rocks and that he was seeing Kristin. Anderson thought Michael was crazy for jeopardizing his position by getting involved with a subordinate, and he told him so. He also made it clear that he didn’t approve of the affair. Then the two parted ways.

  Within five minutes, Kristin approached Anderson and said she and Michael both valued his opinion. She wanted his approval for the relationship. Anderson asked if she was planning to leave her husband, and she said yes. Anderson told Kristin that both of their spouses should be told about the affair, because he didn’t think it was fair to them otherwise. Kristin started tearing up. The more emotional she got, the more uncomfortable Anderson became. He told her he didn’t want to continue the conversation and started walking away. But Kristin wouldn’t let it go. She followed him around the atrium, crying and saying, “I value you as a toxicologist.” Anderson, who couldn’t understand how that was relevant, couldn’t get away fast enough. He felt that Kristin was making a scene, and he was embarrassed.

  The next night was an informal gathering known as the Elmer Gordon Forum, which the organization holds at every conference. It generally consists of about one hundred toxicologists, including bigwigs and pioneers who started in the field half a century ago, sitting in a circle and discussing problems in the workplace. Kristin and Michael walked in late to the meeting. During a lull in the conversation, the discussion leader made a special point of introducing Kristin to the big-name toxicologists as a new, up-and-coming toxicologist. This irritated Anderson and some of his colleagues, who’d never gotten any such introductions so early in their careers.

  Friday came, and it was time for Kristin to give her talk in the small ballroom, which was attended by a couple hundred people. She was extremely nervous, so much so that her voice fluctuated with anxiety. She even called attention to it during her presentation. Titled “Death by Strychnine—A Case for Postmortem Redistribution,” Kristin’s presentation covered the investigation of a recent death in San Diego caused by the well-known poison. In addition to listing her name, the abstract for her talk credited Michael and another lab coworker, Glenn Holt.

  The dead man, the abstract said, was thirty-one and had a long history of depression. He was found in a hotel room with a suicide note, some over-the-counter medications, and a container of Quick Action Gopher Mix, in which strychnine was the active ingredient. Also found were two plastic bottles of Coke, some rum, and two plastic cups containing moist unidentified seeds. More seedlike material was found in the deceased’s stomach. The death investigation showed that strychnine in the seeds had caused his death.

  According to the abstract, the case demonstrated that “strychnine concentrations in blood following ingestion vary depending on site of collection. In this case, the variation is most likely due to ongoing postmortem diffusion from the gastric contents into the central blood vessel.” In other words, after he died, the strychnine in his stomach seeped into his blood, causing a variation in the levels measured in different parts of his body.

  To Anderson, it was obvious that Kristin hadn’t written the paper, nor, he thought, could she have fully understood what she was saying given her experience level. Anderson felt sure that Michael had written the paper for her. Her talk was the culmination of one long, annoying week for him.

  Anderson and Barnhart independently said they remembered Fredric Rieders, Michael’s former boss, laying into Kristin after her presentation, questioning her and pointing out a number of flaws. Anderson said Rieders essentially insinuated what he, too, had been thinking—that Michael had been the true author of the talk.

  Four years later, the eighty-two-year-old Rieders said he did not attend Kristin’s talk. But Anderson said he was certain Rieders did because he remembered thinking that Rieders seemed to be attacking Kristin and, in effect, Michael, because he’d left Rieders’s company. Anderson said Michael tried to come to Kristin’s aid and deflect some of Rieders’s questions after Kristin kept repeating, “I don’t know” and started to cry.

  Everyone in the audience knew that Kristin was new to the organization and that this was her first talk. Rieders’s attack was so brutal, Anderson recalled, that it was a topic of conversation at the farewell lunch afterward. As irritated with her as he was, Anderson said he wouldn’t have wished such a barrage of criticism on his worst enemy.

  That night Kristin and Michael went out to dinner. As they were walking through the lobby, Barnhart saw them and thought they looked awfully comfortable together. Like a couple. He was disturbed by the thought.

  The next day Barnhart gave Kristin and Michael a ride to the airport. Kristin rode in the front seat and Michael in the back. Once they reached the airport, Barnhart and the couple went their separate ways.

  After Kristin returned from her trip, she and Greg got into an argument about some pills Kristin was taking. On Monday morning, October 9, Kristin sent an angry e-mail to Greg, listing the color, shape, name, and purpose of three prescription drugs.

  One, she said, was a muscle relaxant for cramps called diazepam, the generic name for Valium. Another, she said, was called zolpidem, a “hypnotic” for the flight home. And the third, she said, was called Seroquel, an antipsychotic anti-depressant she was taking to help with the “severe anxiety” stemming from their relationship.

  “You’ve hurt me beyond repair,” she wrote. “I wish that I had been able to talk to you about more. But your reaction always scares me off. You make me feel so uncomfortable, so alone. It’s a very unhappy place to be. I don’t know what to do.”

  On the weekend of October 14, Greg and Kristin drove to Palm Springs for the wedding of Aaron Wallo, one of Greg’s high school friends, who was with him the night he met Kristin. Greg seemed determined to help make his new company successful; it had been on his mind a lot lately. But he was happy to be hanging out with some of his closest buddies. And despite their tight finances, Greg bought Kristin a pair of sunglasses and some perfume.

  At the reception, Kristin and Greg posed for a photo. She leaned her head toward his so that their temples touched, and both of them smiled wide. She wore a dark blue sleeveless cocktail dress with a string of pearls; he, a white dress shirt and a black tie with tiny white polka dots. To their friends and Greg’s brothers, they seemed like they always did, a happy couple who had been together for a long time.

  On Saturday night after the wedding, a group of friends went over to the house of Greg’s high school friend, Christian Colantoni, where Greg and Kristin were staying, to hang out and watch a video of the black comedy, Office Space. In one scene, one of the characters tries to commit suicide by drinking alcohol and asphyxiating himself with carbon monoxide in the car in his garage, but his wife interrupts him before he finishes. He backs the car into the street, and another car rams into him. Despite being in a wheelchair with multiple broken bones, he ends up happier than he was before, thanks to a hefty legal settlement.

  The scene led to a debate among Greg’s friends about the best way to die. One guy, who worked as an emergency medical technician, joked that the movie portrayed the best way. Kristin disagreed, saying that a certain combination of drugs could cause a completely painless death, without side effects. The two of them seemed eager to prove they were the most knowledgeable about medications. The discussion struck Colantoni as odd.

  On Sunday Colantoni and his wife had lunch and played nine holes of golf with Kristin and Greg before they drove back to San Diego. Colantoni said he was anxious about his bar exam results. If he passed, he and Greg
decided they would go to Las Vegas to celebrate. Kristin said she wanted to come, too.

  On October 17, Greg forwarded an e-mail invitation to Kristin from some friends and asked if she wanted to go to their Halloween housewarming party in Clairemont, a neighborhood just south of, and across the freeway from, University City. Kristin said it sounded like fun. Greg suggested they go out and look for costumes after work on October 24, four days before the party. On the night of the party, they posed for photos, Greg with a big grin on his face and his finger on a blender. He wore a black-and-white striped inmate costume, complete with a matching striped cap.

  A week later Greg bought Kristin a dozen or so red roses for her twenty-fourth birthday.

  In an e-mail on the afternoon of Halloween, Kristin offered to make a special dinner of teriyaki pork tenderloin or filet mignon with herbed red potatoes that night. They seemed to be getting along well. “BOO! Did I scare you? I hope you’ve had a spooky Halloween so far,” she wrote.

  The next day, Greg e-mailed Kristin that he’d made reservations for their birthday dinner with Kristin’s parents at the Prado in Balboa Park for Friday at 7 P.M. He thought it would be nice if they could sit inside, but if she wanted to sit outside, he would change it. She thanked him for making the arrangements and agreed that sitting inside was best.

  On Thursday, November 2, Kristin e-mailed Greg to say she tried to call him at home and at work but kept missing him. She asked if he’d rather go out to eat for lunch that day and thanked him for getting up early to have breakfast with her. Greg agreed to go out to lunch as long as it was someplace “not too expensive,” so they went back and forth, trying to decide where to go. They settled on an authentic Italian submarine sandwich at Mimo’s, a deli in Little Italy, even though it was a bit of a drive for both of them. After he left for lunch, Greg called Terry Huang, the office manager at Orbigen, to say he needed to take the rest of the afternoon off to deal with a “family issue.”