Fatal Friends, Deadly Neighbors (7 page)

*   *   *

Neither Susan nor Josh arrived at work the next morning, nor did they call in sick that Monday of December 7, 2009. Even if Susan’s nausea had been the precursor of the flu or serious stomach trouble, she would have phoned her supervisors at Wells Fargo. Or she would have asked Josh to call. It wasn’t in her nature to simply fail to show up at her job without any explanation. Even more disturbing, the Powells didn’t call the day-care mom, who expected Charlie and Braden, to let her know that the boys wouldn’t be coming.

Since Josh often worked at home, it wasn’t particularly unusual for him to be away from the trucking company’s offices, so no one there was concerned about his absence.

No one saw any of the Powell family around their house that Monday. Their day-care provider tried to call them, but no one answered. Alarmed, she called Josh’s mother, Terry Powell, and his sister Jennifer Graves—both of whom lived nearby—to tell them how concerned she was. They too tried to get in touch with Josh and Susan, with no success. Neither of the missing pair answered their cell phones.

Susan had told many women in her circle about her fears, and that may have been why the babysitter called Josh’s family—
and
why Terry called the West Valley City Police Department with a “check on the welfare” request at 10
A.M.
Although an adult has to be missing for at least forty-eight hours before an official search is begun, and it was awfully soon to file a missing person’s report, the investigators heard the anxiety in Terry’s and Jennifer’s voices, and with their permission, activated a missing person’s report at once.

Still, at this point, there could be some reasonable explanation for all four of the Powells being gone.

*   *   *

Jennifer Graves finally reached Josh Powell’s cell phone at 5:27 that afternoon. At first she felt relief, but when she asked him where he was, and he told her he was at work, she knew that didn’t compute.

“You’re lying, Josh,” his sister said. “We know you’re not at work. Where are you?”

Josh then changed his story and told Jennifer that he and the boys had been camping.

“Well, you’d better get home. The police are there, and Susan is missing.”

“How much do you know?” Josh asked Jennifer.

“What do you mean,” she responded. “Why did you ask me that?”

Josh hung up.

Twenty minutes later, in an attempt to avoid unnerving Josh Powell more, West Valley City police detective Ellis Maxwell borrowed Jennifer Graves’s cell phone and used that to dial Josh’s number. Josh picked up, seeing his sister’s number on the Caller ID.

Maxwell identified himself and told Josh to return to his house as soon as possible.

“I have to get my sons something to eat first,” Josh said. “Then I’ll be home.”

It was close to an hour before Josh drove up. Detective Maxwell walked up to the passenger side of the minivan before Josh could exit the driver’s seat.

“People have been looking for you,” Maxwell said. “Why didn’t you answer your cell phone or call someone all day today?”

“I had to keep my phone turned off to save the battery,” Josh replied. “I don’t have a phone charger.”

That was a ridiculous excuse. Maxwell could clearly see Josh’s mobile phone resting on a front seat console. The phone was plugged into a cigarette lighter phone charger.

Josh appeared to be shocked to learn that people—including his own mother and sister—had been concerned enough about his family’s safety to call the police. He said he and the boys were fine. And as Maxwell peered into the backseats, he was reassured to see Charlie and Braden Powell, who did, indeed, appear to be in good shape.

But where was Susan? No one saw her get out of the minivan.

Detective sergeant Ellis Maxwell, who would soon be appointed the lead detective on the “missing person” case by West Valley City police chief Thayle “Buzz” Nielsen, asked Josh to get the boys settled and then come to police headquarters so they could talk more about where he’d been. And, of course, he also wanted to talk about where Susan Powell might be.

Josh agreed to come down, and that evening he and Maxwell talked.

Josh said he had taken Charlie and Braden out camping about midnight in the Simpson Springs area of the west desert, farther west than the Cedar Fort area in Tooele County.

Josh explained that he wanted to test his new generator to be sure it was working well. That seemed dangerous to Maxwell. What if the generator
didn’t
work well, or if dangerous fumes filled the minivan where boys only two and four were sleeping? Maxwell noted that, but he didn’t argue with Josh, who continued talking.

“I actually thought it was a little after twelve thirty
A.M.
on
Saturday
night—not Sunday,” he explained. “I was confused and I missed a whole day of work. That’s why I didn’t call my company—I believed that I’d be fired if I called in.”

That didn’t make a lot of sense, either, but Ellis Maxwell moved on to his next question, “Where do you think Susan is?”

Josh shrugged. “I have no idea. All I know is that she should have gone to work today.”

Maxwell observed that Powell showed very little concern or anxiety about the police questions concerning Susan. The detective found that strange.

*   *   *

After that first interview ended, Josh gave his consent to the West Valley City police to search both his house and his vehicle. The minivan did appear to be packed for camping. The investigators found the new generator, blankets, a gas can, tarps—and a shovel. They also found Susan Powell’s cell phone in the center front console. It was turned off. On further inspection, they discovered that the digital sim card was missing.

Asked why Susan’s mobile phone happened to be in the van if he had seen her last at home, Josh had no explanation. All he knew was that she was there, sleeping in their house when he, Charlie, and Braden went camping after midnight. Susan hadn’t felt well enough to join them so they had left without her.

“Why didn’t you guys check with Susan today?” Josh asked. “You could have asked her where the boys and I were.”

Josh appeared to be surprised when they told him that no one had been able to locate Susan, that she hadn’t shown up at the Wells Fargo offices.

As for his winter camping trip with Charlie and Braden, Josh made it sound as if it was the most natural thing in the world to have a late-night adventure with his boys on a snowy night in December. If they had been ten and twelve, that might be—but they were two and four.

Josh had no idea where Susan had gone. Her bicycle was still in the garage, but then she wouldn’t have been able to ride it with snow on the streets and sidewalks.

Although he was mystified about where Susan might be, he didn’t see why the investigators were asking so many questions about his camping trip.

That, in itself, struck detectives as peculiar.

Why
anyone
would take toddlers out to camp in a blizzard at midnight was the question on everyone’s mind. And it would keep coming back to niggle at investigators in the months to come.

After his van was thoroughly searched, the West Valley City investigators moved on to the Powells’ house. Susan Powell wasn’t there—sick, alive, or dead. Outside of Josh, Charlie, and Braden, there was no one there. But it wasn’t exactly normal inside, either. The couch was wet, as if it had just been shampooed. Two fans were pointed at the couch, whirling away, perhaps in an effort to dry it off. There were some unidentified stains on the tile floor next to the carpet portion near that couch. If something terrible had happened, criminalists would have to test all of the wet and stained items.

Although the probe into the whereabouts of Susan Powell was growing more ominous, there were still plausible reasons for the wet couch and fans. Little boys are well known for spilling things.

All of the items that Susan would surely have taken with her if she decided to leave Josh and her boys were still in the master bedroom: her clothes, makeup, purse, credit cards, cash, identification, driver’s license, and her keys.

And her cell phone had been found in Josh’s Chrysler van.

*   *   *

One of the more modern tools of forensic science is the ability of detectives to follow cell phone “pings” from the towers that are sprinkled all across America. Ellis Maxwell and his crew now subpoenaed Josh and Susan’s phone records to see who—if anyone—either of them might have called on Sunday or through the daytime hours of Monday. The last call made or received on Susan’s phone was at 2:29
P.M.
on Sunday. That proved to be a call Susan had made to JoVonna Owings, who came over to visit shortly thereafter.

Josh’s mobile phone records showed that he had used his phone Sunday at 12:14
P.M.,
when he called his father’s cell phone.

There was no more activity on Josh’s phone until 3:02
P.M.
on Monday, when JoVonna’s son, Alex, called. Alex didn’t know what to say to a man he knew his mother had been trying to find all day and he hung up. But JoVonna called Josh only a minute later.

She asked him where he was, and was he aware that Susan hadn’t come to work at all that day? Josh said he and the boys were just driving around the West Valley City area, and that he didn’t know that Susan had missed work.

And then Josh drove about twenty miles before he called Susan’s mobile phone to leave a voice message for her—asking if she needed a ride home from work. At that point, he
knew
Susan hadn’t gone to work, so there was no point in leaving that message for her.

JoVonna Owings had just told him that Susan never made it to work. And he must have seen Susan’s phone on the console in the minivan. It looked very much as though he was frantically trying to set up alibis for himself.

Chapter Six

Simpson Springs in Tooele County is about eighty miles south and west of West Valley City. It was once a main stop on the Pony Express route as stagecoaches and riders crossed through Utah in the mid-1800s. Simpson Springs was highly desirable then for the quality and plentitude of water available there.

In modern times, the U.S. Bureau of Land Management has a campground at Simpson Springs and the Future Farmers of America have constructed a replica of the original Pony Express station, but few tourists visit the historical site in the darkest days of winter. And hardly anyone camped overnight there in December.

It was much too cold for tent camping, and even in the Powell minivan, the 10 degree temperature and fierce winds would have been hard on Charlie and Braden.

Josh said the weather hadn’t deterred him from his quick trip with the boys; he and Susan often took them to the west desert to camp. He still couldn’t understand why the police had to be involved.

The Utah detectives spread out, talking to everyone they could locate who had known Susan Powell: Amber Hardman, Kiirsi Hellewell, JoVonna Owings, Susan’s family, Josh’s mother and sister. Everywhere they went, they were told that Susan would
never
have abandoned her boys. They also learned that Susan and Josh had been having marital problems, financial troubles, and disagreements so wrenching that Susan was considering filing for divorce.

West Valley City police chief Buzz Nielsen’s detective team also learned that Josh was the beneficiary of a number of insurance policies written on Susan’s life.

“How much? How many?” Ellis Maxwell asked.

The answer and then the validation by the companies who had written the policies was staggering.

“One and a half million dollars . . .”

Detective Larry Marx discovered that Susan Powell had opened a safe deposit box at the Wells Fargo bank on West Amelia Earhart Drive in Salt Lake City. It was in her name only and no one else could open it, and yet she had accessed the box only twice. Ellis Maxwell reviewed and evaluated what was in the safe deposit box.

There was a folded letter inside, addressed to her “family and friends.” It was stapled securely all around the edges. Inside, Susan wrote a warning that the contents should never be shown or given to Josh, adding: “I don’t trust him.”

The letter was titled “Last Will and Testament for Susan Powell,” and it was dated June 28, 2008, almost eighteen months earlier.

Susan wrote that Josh Powell, her husband, had threatened to “destroy me” if they should ever get divorced. If that happened, she knew that her children would have neither a mother or a father.

She wrote that they had been having marital problems for the prior four years—which meant the trouble had begun in 2004, shortly after they had moved to Utah. She asked that if something should happen to her, whoever read this letter should contact her sister-in-law, Jennifer Graves.

Susan also stated that if she should die and it looked like an accident, someone should investigate. “It may not be an accident—even if it looks like one.”

*   *   *

As Susan’s disappearance moved to the top of the headlines and nightly news in the Salt Lake area, one man who had attended a Wells Fargo Christmas gathering of Susan’s fellow employees and their spouses in December 2008 recalled talking to Josh at that event. His wife, Amber, worked with Susan, and Scott Hardman strived to be polite, but, like many of Susan’s friends, Hardman avoided being stuck with Josh. Josh loved to argue and debate about almost anything. Their 2008 conversation hadn’t seemed that ominous at the time, but now Scott Hardman watched the barrage of media bulletins about Susan’s disappearance and felt uneasy. He called the West Valley City police and was put through to detective Larry Marx.

Marx interviewed Hardman, taking notes. Scott recalled talking with Josh Powell a year before Susan disappeared. Somehow they had gotten on the topic of fictional television crime shows. Josh, who watched a lot of television, held forth on how he visualized the perfect murder and that he knew how to get away with it. The subject turned to how a killer could hide a victim’s body where it would never be discovered.