Homicide Investigation

It was late March or early April & I was at work.  I was in the back when I heard an authoritative male voice up front ask for me.  I nervously walked around the filing cabinets & was confronted by a tall man with gray hair dressed in solid black.  He had a large walkie-talkie on one side of his belt & a very large gun on the other.  He brandished a sheaf of papers at me & asked if we could talk somewhere private.  The man introduced himself as a detective with the Minnesota BCA (Bureau of Criminal Apprehension) & explained the papers were a search warrant for my house, yard & outbuildings.  Needless to say I was stunned. He explained that I had to go with him immediately as there was a search team waiting for me to clear out of my house.  I was offered the opportunity to stay at the local hotel (which wouldn’t take my dogs) or find a friend’s house.  I went back to my desk, grabbed my purse & keys & followed the detective out to my house with a county deputy behind me.

As I pulled into my driveway I saw a team of about 12 people all dressed in black satin baseball jackets standing the middle of the yard.  All of them looked anxious.  My 2 dogs were freaking out inside, running around, hitting the patio door and barking.  I managed to squeeze through the front door with a deputy right on my heels.  I rounded up the dogs & got them into the car.  Then back into the house with 2 deputies to follow my every move.  Seems they suspected that the local man who had been missing & subsequently found dead had been murdered in my house.  The sheaf of papers I now took the time to read said the BCA was looking for evidence including but not limited to human tissue, blood, hair and many other things.  I had to pack up & leave for 3 days.  They would call me when I was allowed back.

I was bawling by this time.  Home alone with no possibility of Hubby coming back early, kicked out of my house & now possibly having tampered with evidence in a homicide case (although they assured me I couldn’t have known that so they were going to follow me while I packed to make sure I didn’t disturb anything further….of course we had been living in the house for just over 3 months so I’m sure any evidence was already gone) Now I am trying to think what all I will need for 3 days (plus anything I don’t want a bunch of strange men pawing through), crying hysterically and being followed around my house.  Part of me wanted to wander in circles just to see what the officers would do…the rest of me was afraid I’d have a stroke.  As I’m about to walk from the bedroom into the adjoining bathroom one of the deputies starts to follow…he did pause for a split second to make sure I wasn’t going to use it.  I grabbed my toiletries & threw them in the suitcase.  I tried to think about clothes for work.  I had a heck of a time trying to determine the amount of underwear that I would need.  Not to mention trying to keep the officers from seeing it.  (By the way, very uncomfortable pulling your delicates out of drawers while strangers watch….also, it’s hard  not to feel judged on your choices.) I finally managed to pack what seemed like an adequate wardrobe (I was grossly mistaken I found out later) & get everything out to the car.  The deputies did help me carry stuff which was nice.  As I drove out of the driveway I could see the doors being propped open & a swarm of black flooding into my home, my haven, my quiet place. I drove to a friend’s house where I proceeded to become more distraught at the thought of a man’s life having ended brutally in my house.  After calming down a bit I looked in my suitcase to discover I had packed no pajamas, 2 bags of coffee beans, no socks, 3 times the underwear I would need in a month, 2 pairs of heels, some work clothes & miscellaneous stuff I couldn’t possibly need in 3 days. I did drive out to the house late afternoon on day 2 just to peek in the windows.  I was appalled at what I saw.  All my bedroom furniture etc was piled in my living room like so much stuff at the dump.  Too heartsick & scared to look further I left. Finally on day 3 the detective heading up the investigation stopped by my office in the afternoon to return my keys, have me sign a paper & inform me that they had indeed found evidence in my bedroom.  He promised to keep me posted & that he would send someone over to repair the one wall. Reluctantly I went home that night to my barely put together house.  I vacuumed the carpets, made the bed & snuggled with the dogs.  I did my best to ignore the two gaping holes in the west wall where the BCA had cut the drywall out as evidence.  It took a couple weeks to get the patching done & the wall repainted.  I had the painter use an accent color since there was no way we were going to be able to match the rest of the room.  It took considerably longer for me to feel comfortable sleeping in a room where a man had been shot & killed.  For a long time (and I’m still not totally comfortable with it) I was almost completely unable to go outside alone after dark.  I had to stand w/my back pressed to the side of the house.  Sometimes I felt I could see the outline of a man standing off shed in my backyard.  I did determine (and with God’s help have managed) that I was not going to let fear ruin my haven here.  I am thankful to still feel safe here in this house.  We enjoy our time here & the privacy it offers.  My prayer is that one day the people responsible for this horrendous act will be brought to justice.