29
AFTER DEATH, THE BODY goes through a series of scientific changes. Those vicissitudes, especially in the organs, occur relatively the same way in every natural death. That is, it’s similar if no external factors or intrinsic characteristics accelerate or retard the decomposition process.
Pathologist Dr. Stephen Clark was struck by the discoloration of Mary Yoder’s intestinal tract. He wondered if such an obvious irregularity was indicative of an external condition or foreign substance being introduced into Mary’s system. What was the reason why Mary’s organs presented so abnormally discolored? It was a reaction, Clark knew, that never occurs on its own.
“It’s a nonspecific finding, to be honest,” Clark said later, explaining how the discrepancy did not mean anything beyond requiring additional investigation. Such a noticeable discoloration meant a toxin had likely killed Mary, but which toxin and how she ingested it were open-ended questions. After all, people died every day from accidental poisoning by toxins found in every household.
First thing Clark made note of was that Mary Yoder had not died under “traumatic” circumstances. He did not find any evidence of bullet or stab wounds, indicators of strangulation, suffocation, or any other violent manner.
Considering the extent of the discoloration he’d uncovered, however, Clark took the next step. “I collected lots of tissue samples for microscopic examination.”
Toxicology is a comprehensive science, which can explain the scientific facts behind a death. So Clark extracted samples from every organ, along with a collection of bodily fluids.
As Clark began taking samples, he discovered a condition called apoptosis, or cell death.
Another anomaly.
Regarding cell death, Clark thought about the two ways in which cells died inside the body. One is necrosis, a blood clot found in a vessel. You have a blood clot in your brain, for example; then all of the tissue downstream from the clot is choked off and eventually dies, leaving behind evidence of the blood clot.
The second is apoptosis. A cell, fundamentally, sustains an injury and doesn’t die, but ends up dysfunctional and crippled, thus creating a reaction (or signal) to kill itself. In the medical community, it’s known as “preprogrammed cell suicide.”
Clark walked several samples over to his microscope. He placed them on slides, dialed in the focus, and began to carefully examine.
“Under the microscope,” Clark explained, “apoptosis has a very distinct look.”
The samples that made him step back and scratch his head were from Mary Yoder’s gastrointestinal tract (the most severe), lungs, spleen, liver, and gallbladder (not as severe). He also found “scattered apoptosis” in the heart as well.
“Almost every organ I looked at.”
Clark thought about how unusual this was within the day-to-day findings of his work: “I can say that between my residency and my fellowships and all of my autopsies, I had never seen this before.”
Clark called the chief medical examiner, Robert Stoppacher. Over the next few days, they talked about and studied Clark’s findings and decided what to do.
“It could be a virus or a toxin,” Clark suggested.
The chief agreed.
“These cells were definitely injured and they were all undergoing programmed suicide.”
It was obvious an outside source had entered Mary’s system, thus injuring the cells, facilitating the process of cell suicide, which ultimately caused her death. Was this the reason for that slight rebound Mary had experienced before her sudden relapse leading to all those codes?
Both doctors believed there had been a toxin introduced into Mary’s system—and that toxin killed her.
Toxicology was sent out.
All of it came back negative.
This was even more disconcerting and baffling.
The results were another abnormality, telling both doctors they must now begin a process of pinpointing which toxin might have made Mary sick and killed her.
“Essentially,” Clark said, “what we do is we start looking for more exotic things we don’t commonly see, but every now and then, we do see.” Cyanide. Arsenic. Barium (an alkaline earth metal). Antimony (a metalloid).
Samples were sent to an outside lab, specifically focused on those four toxins. The lab in the ME’s office did not routinely test for specific metals or poisons. A general panel was conducted. Each of those results also came back negative.
Quite puzzled by the results, Clark felt there had to be a rare toxin they were missing. As they began talking about next steps, a major problem arose. The lab said they had almost no blood left to send out for additional testing. By then, Mary’s body had been released and cremated.
One of the toxicologists involved called Clark: “Listen, we still don’t have an answer, but we have a very limited sample left. So whatever you want to test for next, you should choose it carefully, because I do not know how much we can get out of the [final sample].”
Clark met with Stoppacher.
“Let’s take a walk across the street,” Stoppacher suggested, standing, beckoning Clark to follow him.
It was a suggestion that would change everything.
Across the street from the office was the Poison Control Center (PCC) building.
Stoppacher introduced Clark to two PCC doctors.
The advantage of utilizing the PCC was its vast library of medical data collected on poisoning cases. That data correlated consistencies, dynamics, and anomalies in death-by-poison cases. But more important, similarities. The data can, in effect, point a pathologist in a direction by simply linking a finding to a previous death by toxin. The database searches through symptoms, pairs them with the ME’s findings, thus looking for cases matching one another.
Parallels.
As Clark dealt with the PCC, additional medical records from Mary Yoder’s time at the hospital came in. Clark now had Mary’s full chart. He could provide that information—symptoms, reactions, medications—to the PCC as part of her history.
More data, better results.
“She had multiple cardiac arrests before death,” Clark explained to his contact at the PCC.
The PCC doctor made a recommendation after studying all the documentation and PCC data, reviewing the autopsy, and comparing it to other PCC database cases.
“What do you think?” Clark asked.
One toxin kept coming up.
“Colchicine.”
Colchicine is an anti-inflammatory generally prescribed to treat Mediterranean fever and gout. Inflammatory arthritis (gout, basically) was one reason why people went to a chiropractor.
Could Mary have been poisoned by error?
Stoppacher and Clark agreed to send that last sample of Mary’s blood to the lab and request a colchicine comparison test.
30
ON OCTOBER 19, 2014, at 1:20 a.m., after Katie had sent Adam that long, detailed text she’d teased him with for several hours, Adam was sitting up in bed. He could not believe what Katie was accusing him of.
The text described what Adam had allegedly done to Katie on the night of July 26, 2014. According to her, she’d hesitated to send it because she believed he was too drunk on that summer night to remember what happened. Yet, after Adam warned Katie—“This is your last chance to send it”—she texted him the narrative.
His heart racing, Adam read through it several times.
Three minutes after receiving it, he responded: “Well, I don’t know what I’ll do at this point.”
He waited a minute.
“Are you there? That is infinitely worse than I thought it could be.”
“Yeah. I don’t know. You really don’t remember anything of it. I really don’t think you do.”
“I had a slight memory of the slap, but I couldn’t remember the context or if you hit me too or what. I don’t think we should ever see each other again. One slap, but not that.”
“I didn’t slap you. You did. More than once. Pretty hard. Really
?” she added, responding to never seeing each other again. “You think that will help?”
Katie waited a beat before texting, “?!”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with you in your head to not hate me. Apparently, I’m an attempted murderer, Katie. This is not good news. Please talk to me. Just for a little bit. I’m sorry I upset you. I was hoping we could continue this conversation. Let me know. The choice is yours, Katie. Might check myself into suicide watch, too, if it gets bad enough. Going to AA tomorrow. If you still want to see me, you can see me. Please text me back so I know you’re okay.”
Katie waited three hours, responding at 4:07 a.m.: “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Adam.”
“Will you talk to me on the phone, please? I really believe you love me. Or you did. I don’t understand how [the incident] could’ve happened.”
“Just to talk,” Katie said. “I’m going out to the porch to call you.”
During the phone call, they discussed Adam’s use of Adderall. After they hung up, Adam texted, “I had a 4.0 before that. I don’t need to be a pill popper. I’ll go dump the Adderall in the toilet . . .”
Katie responded by explaining how Adam could “swing from one way to another extreme . . .” She “supported” him finding a new apartment, which they’d discussed on the phone. Then, randomly, completely out of context, she said: “Maybe it’s time for me to put some money into a house?”
In the text Katie had sent, she detailed what Adam had allegedly done to her on July 26, nearly three months before. Katie described a sexually violent rape. Yet, she was now talking about being open to Adam living somewhere else, but leaving his belongings at a new house she’d buy?
If that’s what he “needed,” she added, “I think that’s a good balance. So there’s still time for us to be ourselves separately, too. So you don’t feel like I’m pressuring you and vice versa. It can get better. No, you don’t need that medication. I really believe that.”
Adam failed to respond. What could he say? Katie was talking about his emotional pendulum swings and how unstable he was. She was summarizing a rape he’d committed in one text, and now saying she was buying them a house to live in?
“I did not know what to say,” Adam recalled later. “I just knew at that moment I needed to keep her close. I was so scared. Even an accusation like that could ruin my life.”
* * *
ACCORDING TO KATIE, THE incident started at 11:15 p.m. on July 26, 2014. She and Adam were swimming at her house. One of Katie’s sisters and a friend were there, too. They’d all come from a graduation party. Adam and the other guy were “drinking heavily,” while Katie and her sister were not.
Katie became “upset and disappointed” as the night progressed because Adam had promised he was going to stop drinking. Yet, here he was living it up excessively in front of her. At one point, Katie became so distressed, she excused herself from the pool, walked inside the house, and locked herself in the bathroom.
Her sister’s friend followed and waited by the bathroom door. When Katie came out, he said, “Hey, calm down, would you.”
They were having fun. A night out together. Lighten up.
Still upset, Katie emerged. Then walked outside.
“Where’s Adam?” she asked, looking around.
“Gone,” her sister said.
Knowing Adam had probably left on foot, Katie grabbed a towel, wrapped it around herself, picked up her car keys, and took off.
After driving a short distance, she saw Adam walking down the street.
“Get in,” Katie said, pulling up alongside him. “I’m taking you home.”
She pulled into Adam’s driveway a few minutes later and shut off the car.
Adam looked over, reached toward the steering column, and pulled the keys from the ignition. Without saying anything, he then ran inside his house.
Katie collected his belongings, which she’d brought with her from the house, and ran into the house.
“Once I got inside,” Katie insisted later, “I went to the bathroom.”
Katie later explained that she was on her “period . . . and I was bleeding through a little, so I wanted to go home and change.”
Walking out of the bathroom, Katie went into Adam’s room.
Adam was on his bed. The lanyard with her house keys and key fob attached was on the floor—except the fob and keys were gone.
“Where are my keys?” Katie asked, according to a law enforcement report of the incident. In her descriptive text to Adam (the one that she’d drafted on her iPhone Notes app long after the incident), she said: “You wouldn’t tell me where they were, so I looked around. I only found my car starter. You were furious I was going to leave.”
After demanding to know where Adam hid her keys, Katie claimed Adam refused to speak.
So she walked into the living room and began searching.
No keys.
After making it back into Adam’s bedroom, she asked, “My keys, Adam?”
“Turn off the lights.”
“I’m looking for my keys. I can’t. And I want to go home, Adam. Come on.”
Katie then spotted her key fob on the floor and grabbed it.
“Where are my other keys? I. Want. To. Go. Home.”
“You cannot drive,” Adam said.
In her October 19, 2014, text, Katie described this moment differently from what she would later tell law enforcement: “I told you I could come right back, but you told me I was a liar and couldn’t leave.” She claimed Adam then picked up the key fob and told her he’d call someone so she wouldn’t have to drive herself.
In Katie’s recollection that she detailed in a report to a county sheriff (three and a half months after the alleged incident), she claimed Adam jumped from his bed at that point. Took her key fob. Then stood in between her and the door leading out of his room. Blocking the door, he grabbed Katie.
“I am going to break your wrist and snap all your fingers.”
Then, according to Katie, Adam tossed her on his bed without warning. “Nobody will believe you! Nobody is going to help you, and nobody is going to find you. I am going to kill you,” he threatened.
“He had me pinned down, with both hands around my throat,” Katie explained to the sheriff.
“Say ‘good-bye,’ Katie. I am going to kill you. I am going to kill you.”
By this point, Katie added, Adam had a death grip on her throat.
He said it again: “I’m going to kill you . . .”
The way she described the same scene in her lengthy text was different: Katie told Adam that he wouldn’t let go of her, so she “tried to drop” her weight, hoping he’d let go, fall to his bed, and pass out.
“You picked me up. ‘I’m going to kill you. I’m going to kill you, Katie.’ The way you said it. The way you looked at me. And then I was afraid. ‘You lying cunt. No one cares about you. No one wants to help you. You are a cunt. Slut. Liar. You lied to me. You aren’t even bleeding. No one will miss you.’”
Katie told the sheriff she blacked out because Adam had put his hands around her throat. When she came to, Adam was kneeling on her shoulders and “pulling her hair with one hand and . . . using the other to put his penis inside [her] mouth . . .”
In that same law enforcement statement, Katie described how Adam then flipped her over on her stomach. Adam “inserted his penis in her vagina” without Katie’s “permission to do so,” the sheriff reported. While this happened, according to the sheriff’s recounting, Katie was crying and told Adam to stop “multiple times.”
In her text, she said: “You threw me on your bed, so I was looking up at you. ‘Say “good-bye,” Kay-tee. “Good-bye.” You were smiling a little. My towel was twisted around my thighs and legs. Your hands were around my neck, your arms locked, your full weight on me. I couldn’t break. I thought, This is what choking is . . . I am going to die. Then I was awake. My bottoms were off, my top hanging. You said, ‘I’m going to choke you,’ kneeling o
n my chest, fingers scraping the roof of my mouth, you in my mouth. I gagged. Couldn’t gag. Then couldn’t breathe. Flipped me around by my hair. You. Fingers. Flipped back over. Yanked my hair, twisting my neck. Bit my lip. Hard. Blood. Bit my body. Biting. Pulling. You went down. Pulled me on top of you. You slapped my face. My ear rang. You slapped me again.”
Continuing, Katie claimed in her text that Adam “slapped and slapped,” before twisting her around as he “kept going and going.” Then, immediately after an allegedly brutal, violent, and controlling rape scene, Katie claimed, Adam suddenly “rolled over next to” her and “fell asleep—a light sleep.” So she reached “around the bed softly,” in hopes of not moving and waking him, found her keys and bathing suit, got dressed, and ran into the bathroom.
In that October 19 text, months after the incident, she sent a detailed list of her injuries: “Bruise on my upper lip. Above my eyebrow. Two mirrored on each jawline. A small raised lump on my left cheek. Bruises on my forearms. Just slight ones on my thighs. Bruises and red bites on my collarbone. Brown bruising and cuts on my breasts. Two large purple-black bruises on my neck. A larger one on the left side. A darker one on the right. Thumb. Four fingers. Different-size bruises.”
Cuts, bites, and bruises.
It was as though she was looking at photos she’d taken that night inside the bathroom, dictating what she observed into a text message. It had been three months, however, and not a mention of that incident, or any of the injuries, to Adam or law enforcement until the October 19 text and subsequent trip to the Oneida County Sheriff’s Office (OCSO).
“And that’s when I knew,” Katie ended the text. “I was alone. I had to reach up inside me once, twice, to grab the tampon pushed so far in. I didn’t know who to call. I didn’t want people to worry about me. You really didn’t remember it. So I was quiet. And that’s how things end.”
In a text two minutes after outlining the alleged rape, Katie said she’d gone home after assessing her injuries. She needed to take a shower. Oddly, however, she admitted: “I sat in my car. I looked for your inhaler. And then I sat next to you. Because I still thought maybe you might need help. And still you were important.”
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