To Love and to Kill Read online

  Josh took this in and stared out the window.

  CHAPTER 33

  BACK AT EMILIA’S house in Boardman, the investigation was dramatically picking up pace. Yellow SHERIFF’S LINE—DO NOT CROSS tape went up around the entire property, and law enforcement troops of all kinds arrived as daylight began and streaks of sun jetted through the palms like rays from God. Law enforcement vehicles lined the dirt driveway alongside the house. Save for the purpose of the MCSO’s presence, it was a nice morning. Not too hot, not chilly at all. For March, it was ideal weather. Some of Florida’s best (and worst) days of the year were upon the Sunshine State. Early spring in Florida was when all the idiots from colleges across the nation came down and displayed their vilest, drunken, most sexist behavior. Locals hated this tradition. Most of the scandalous, insane, alcohol-induced conduct was centered south of the Orange Lake in Fort Lauderdale, Miami and Tampa. But all of Florida was touched by the attendance of Neanderthal college kids getting wasted and acting like knuckleheads.

  On the side of the trailer facing the back of Maria Zayas’s house, there was a window completely busted out. To the left of a door going into the trailer’s left side was that window Emilia had told Spivey about—the one Heather had smashed while trying to get away from Josh, its glass on the ground leading Emilia into thinking something had gone on inside the trailer. Oddly enough, there was an old recliner in front of the door; there was a busted-up case of unused baby formula strewn about. Beyond that were food wrappers all over the ground; empty soda and beer and booze bottles rolled about. Car and bike tires, hubcaps and dirty plastic toys lay around. And leaves—lots and lots of dead, dried leaves—making a confetti-like layer of organic matter on the yard floor. Next to the trailer on the right side was what appeared to be the bed of an old box truck, much like an ice-cream company would use to haul its frozen products from store to store. The cab and the remainder of the truck were gone, but the rusted tail section and box, with doors, was intact and resting on blocks and old tires.

  Standing there, as several investigators from the MCSO surely had throughout that night and early morning, one had to think there were better places—even surrounding this home—to bury a body. Hell, the lake was just a chip shot away. This area they were focused on seemed so close to the road and main house, which told cops that not a lot of thought had gone into the aftermath of the crime and the burying of Heather’s body—that is, if her final resting place had truly been here, as Josh Fulgham seemed so certain.

  Not far from that beaten-down storage trailer, where Emilia claimed Josh held Heather and strapped her to that black desk chair—about twenty paces northeast—was that pile of debris, including an old box spring mattress, a red office chair (turned upside down), some building wood, large logs and other garbage, atop another area of thick leaves and dense, weathered brush. In several places around the yard were piles of junk. But this pile, unlike the others, had a “staged” feel to it, as though someone had placed these items carefully, one on top of the other. The investigator behind the camera taking video of the entire scene soon turned the focus of the lens to this pile and moved the camera into it and toward the ground. He might have been thinking, Right there—that’s where she’s buried. . . . You can see the cleared dirt and overturned earth.

  Just underneath the red chair, placed just to the left of the junk pile, was a spot of open ground that looked to be recently tended to, as in moved around and disturbed. Most of it was sand, much like all of Florida. But if one looked closer, there was a clear indication that someone had been active in that area and perhaps maybe even digging. At no other location within the entire yard was there a cleared space of earth where dirt and sand were as visible as they were in this particular area. For that reason, it stood out, mainly because the yard and the home had been so neglected and unattended.

  One of the CSIs got a blue metal rake and began to scrape the surface of the sand, pushing back any leaves and small sticks that had since covered the area where they believed Heather was buried. The MCSO needed to wait for the medical examiner (ME) and additional investigators to arrive to help in the excavation process. While those experts made their way there, investigators on the scene moved the junk away carefully, being certain not to disturb what was looking more and more like a grave site.

  CHAPTER 34

  NOTED PHYSICIAN AND surgeon Barbara Wolf had a reputation within the scientific and law enforcement communities as one of those forensic pathologists that any lawyer or cop would want to have on his or her team. Wolf was renowned, sure, but also very respected as someone who didn’t muck up the high-profile investigations she became involved in by turning them into sideshows on CNN, Fox, HLN and other cable-news “crime” networks. Admiringly, Wolf did a lot of work on child abuse cases and testified as an expert witness in many of those, helping law enforcement put away what are the scum of the earth: child abusers. She also worked on the O.J. Simpson trial and the Medgar Evers exhumation, and with a team of forensic scientists assisting in the identification of the human remains in mass graves in Croatia and Bosnia, among other cases. All of that said, however, Wolf wanted nothing to do with the true-crime celebrity some of her counterparts had been accused of after routinely appearing on those network shows. To her credit, Dr. Wolf was humble and kept her focus on her work; she had often been called out to actual crime scenes as bodies were recovered. For Wolf, it was never about her; it was about the victim of a crime, or a deceased person’s family in need of answers.

  With active licenses in Florida, New York, Massachusetts and New Jersey, Wolf traveled a lot. She was in great demand and had been since her initiation into the business some three decades before she took the call to head out to Emilia’s.

  At the scene, Wolf met with the investigator in charge, Ray Williams, Chief Investigator Lindsey Bayer, several crime scene personnel, investigators from the MCSO and patrol cops there to maintain the integrity of the scene as onlookers and people in general began stopping by to gawk and try and sniff out what was going on.

  The MCSO briefed Wolf when she arrived. She then had a quick look at the ground where they believed Heather was buried.

  “We partially excavated the site,” one CSI told Wolf. They were waiting, he added, for her to show up before going any further.

  There was a good indication almost right away that they were onto something. As he dug, a CSI hit a long board buried maybe fifteen inches down into the ground. It was mahogany in color, with a wood grain finish, some fading green and red paint visible. It definitely did not belong underground. It must have been placed there.

  Wolf nodded to herself. She had seen hasty burial sites like this plenty enough times to realize that they were perhaps going to find a body.

  Digging further around the edges of the board, it appeared to be about the size of an average human being. Pushing it to the side with the shovel, an investigator pointed to what looked like black fabric underneath the board.

  They all had a peek.

  Certainly, there was no reason for black fabric to be buried this deep into the ground.

  “You see that?” someone said.

  Everyone nodded.

  “The body,” Wolf explained later, “was buried ... [and placed] partially within a suitcase.... The knees were bent and the lower ... portion of the body was in the suitcase that was partially zipped.”

  They’d found a body.

  The black fabric was a rollaway suitcase with one of those long handles. As they cleared the ground around it, a portrait of a dead body (DB), presumably Heather Strong, came into view. Heather had been stuffed inside this small suitcase as if she were a doll. Her knees had been pushed up in back of her in order to try and force her body into the suitcase, but it was just too small.

  She wore a pair of gray/blue Polo Jeans, a Ralph Lauren T-shirt, with a United States flag on the front, RL in place of the flag’s stars. Heather’s shirt was covered in dirt, weathered as though she had been buried for som
e time. There were indications of dried blood visible all over the bottom corner, armpit and neck regions. Two small pieces of silver duct tape, about the size of a cigarette pack, were also recovered from inside the hole.

  Unzipping the bag to have a look at her face and upper torso, investigators saw that Heather’s killer had covered her head and face with a blue blanket. Seeing this, any detective on the scene could be certain that Heather’s killer knew her. In cases where a blanket or some type of fabric is used to cover the victim’s face or head, it’s a clear indication that the killer is showing some form of personal connection to the victim simply by not wanting to toss dirt over the face or bury the victim with her head exposed. In many cases, it’s a subconscious way, however shallow and fantastic, of the killer saying: “I care for you.” Cops see this more often when a mother kills her child.

  Wolf and two others lifted the suitcase bag with Heather’s body inside of it out of the hole after placing a black body bag underneath her, so they could get a good grip on the corners and heave Heather out of this superficial burial site, which her killer had hastily stuffed her in.

  Heather had terrible bruises on her arm by her right bicep, where dried blood was present—and also all over her head and face. There was hate written all over this murder, and also the clear mark of rage—inherent, deep-seated anger at this victim for some reason. Heather Strong had been beaten and strangled and/or asphyxiated; the bruises on her neck and upper body told this part of that horrible story. She might have even been tortured.

  For the purpose of not wanting to disturb or fail any of the evidence that could be present inside the hole and suitcase, or on Heather’s body, Wolf said later, “We lifted the body from the burial site in the suitcase and brought the whole body with the suitcase to the medical examiner’s office.”

  This was where Barbara Wolf could get to work on finding out exactly what had happened to this young, pretty mother whom some monster had murdered and stuffed in a makeshift hole, discarding her as if her life had no meaning.

  CHAPTER 35

  DONALD BUIE HAD an issue with Josh claiming he did not believe Emilia when she told him he shouldn’t worry about Heather anymore. For one, Heather had vanished. That, alone, should have been enough to raise Josh’s interest to more than a shrug-off. Secondly, Emilia, according to Josh, gave him Heather’s ATM card, among other personal possessions. Where else would she have gotten those personal items but from Heather?

  Buie made the point that Josh “had to know something was wrong” after all of that. Also, Buie was curious how Josh knew exactly where in the yard Heather had been buried. By now, Buie had been informed by colleagues that they believed Heather’s body had been recovered. Josh’s info back at the scene had been spot-on.

  “How would you know to go to that spot?” Buie asked Josh. They were sitting at a stoplight. Mongeluzzo was driving. The radio went off. Dispatch was looking for someone. The road was loud: cars whizzing by, wind blowing inside the vehicle.

  Josh didn’t have an answer.

  Buie moved on to the letter Heather had supposedly written and signed, giving Josh custody of the children.

  Emilia wrote it out on the computer and signed it herself in front of him, Josh now admitted.

  Mike Mongeluzzo explained to Josh that they were growing more and more suspicious of him and his stories every moment they spent with him. Buie said the more they chatted, the less they believed what Josh had to say.

  The light turned green. Mongeluzzo hit the gas pedal and said, “Josh, we got to keep eking it out of you, man. The number one reason people are most deceptive is self-preservation—you go into survival mode. You know what I mean?”

  Josh shook his head yes. He was listening.

  Mongeluzzo continued: “And a lot of time, people who do that have nothing to worry about, but they still do it, anyway. . . .”

  Buie suggested the best thing for Josh to do at this point was to “clean your slate all at once.” Man up and tell them everything. They were going to find out what Josh was hiding or holding back sooner or later, so the best thing for Josh’s future was to be straight. Stop waxing poetic nonsense and get to the truth. It was the only way Josh could hope to receive any sort of sympathy from these two cops.

  Buie could tell that Josh was thinking. So the investigator then reiterated that he had to put everything they discussed in his report: the good and the bad, the lies and the truth. If Josh helped, that, too, would go into the report and a judge would look at it in Josh’s favor.

  Josh said again this was his story and he was sticking with it. He repeated himself. Emilia and “them boys,” as Josh called James Acome and his buddy, murdered Heather.

  Mongeluzzo radioed in: “Mike, six-ninety-one. Ten-ninety-seven back at operations.” He was pulling into the parking lot of Major Crimes.

  “Did Emilia tell you what they did to her?” Buie asked as Mongeluzzo turned off the car and they sat for a moment. “What she said?” He looked at Josh. “You’re shaking your head ... yes. . . . So, what did she say?”

  Josh was crying now. Sniffling and whimpering like a child. Wiping his runny nose on the sleeve of his shirt. “They . . . choked ... her.”

  “They did what?”

  “They choked her out.”

  “Who did?”

  Josh went back to that story. He explained it was James and his friend. He was crying much harder now. Buie asked where it all happened. Josh said, “Honest to God, man, I don’t know where it happened, ’cause I didn’t want to hear about it. I know how Heather was claustrophobic. . . .” Josh was crying hard; his chest moved speedily in and out as he wiped tears away. “[Emilia] laughed ’cause [Heather] pissed on herself.”

  “She laughed because of what?” Mongeluzzo wanted to know.

  “[Emilia] laughed ’cause Heather pissed on herself when they were choking her out.”

  Buie asked what happened after they allegedly choked Heather “out.” Both Buie and Mongeluzzo knew Emilia had said Josh told her Heather had urinated on herself, though they did not share this information with Josh, who was providing a rather detailed account of what supposedly took place.

  Josh said, “I guess they put her in that pile, man. They took her from wherever she was, wherever they was. Heather wasn’t stupid, man. She didn’t volunteer to go to that house.” Josh took a moment. Then he continued, further explaining how Heather had once told him Emilia “tried to cut Heather’s throat,” so “Heather wouldn’t go around Emilia.”

  Just as soon as he got himself started, Josh indicated that was enough for now. He needed to have a cigarette before they filed back into Major Crimes to sit down again in the interrogation box. Josh was wiped out. He was finished talking, he added. All he wanted to do now was lie down and rest his eyes.

  CHAPTER 36

  ON THAT MORNING after Heather and Emilia allegedly spent the night texting each other, Heather finding out about Josh’s affair and supposedly suggesting to him that they enjoy a threesome with Emilia, Josh explained to me that when they got together later on that day, it wasn’t for an afternoon of raucous, steamy sex. They sat cordially, according to Josh’s recollection years later, and discussed what was going to happen next in the relationship. Josh could not continue handling two women at the same time: living with one, sleeping with the other.

  “I had to make a choice right then between the both of them,” Josh recalled.

  Josh stared at Emilia. He could tell she was livid with both him and Heather. She didn’t want to lose him. She’d put up with Josh living (and sleeping) with Heather, but he now needed to drop Heather and move in with her at once. For Emilia, no other choice would suffice. This was something, Josh said, he noticed about Emilia the more he got to know her: Emilia demanded to have her way. If she didn’t get it, well, there would be some type of hell to pay for that betrayal.

  “Look, Emilia, Heather is the mother of my children,” Josh said as Heather looked on and listened. “That is where
I am going to be.”

  Emilia left without saying much more than a few choice curse words for Josh and Heather. What else could she do?

  That weekend, Josh and Heather were “playing around,” he said (not elaborating on what that actually meant), and he asked Heather about “all that shit you said about you, me and Emilia—that was just talking shit, wasn’t it?” Josh was fishing, he admitted; he was testing the waters to see if Heather was serious about arranging a threesome.

  “Why, would you like that?” Josh later claimed Heather asked.

  “Of course I would.”

  Josh called Heather’s bluff. He took out his cell phone without saying another word and dialed Emilia.

  Heather didn’t say anything, nor did she try to stop him.

  “Emilia, come on over,” Josh told his girlfriend, staring at Heather the entire time. Heather didn’t flinch; she went along with it. “Let’s you, me and Heather get together.”

  “She came over,” Josh explained, “and we had our threesome.”

  If true, Josh was perhaps living out some men’s fantasy: an afternoon of sex and drinking and more sex and more drinking. The three of them were enjoying each other as much as they could, according to Josh. He said Emilia and Heather were both really into it; they liked playing with each other possibly more than with him.

  They ended up getting together for sex, Josh claimed, several times after that first afternoon (some reports even have Heather and Emilia getting together on their own, without Josh). But Heather and Emilia grew tired of it and sat Josh down after an encounter one day.

  “You’ve had your fun. Now choose one of us.”

  The three of them could not go on like this, both women argued. Their lives were not going to be like an episode of Sister Wives, designed to give Josh all the pleasure. Josh always seemed to get whatever he wanted, enjoying the best of both worlds. Not anymore. Emilia, especially, made a point to say that she wanted Josh all to herself. Heather seemed a bit tepid and possibly realized she’d had this guy for almost a dozen years by then. Heather could just as easily find someone else to disrespect her and treat her as poorly as Josh had all that time. Josh could sense Heather slipping away from him—maybe this was her tipping point.