Read Pretty Little Killers Online

Authors: Geoffrey C. Fuller Daleen Berry

Pretty Little Killers (42 page)

BOOK: Pretty Little Killers
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Outside was another matter. From their respective positions in the unmarked cars, Gaskins and his entourage were listening and watching what was going on inside the Shoaf home. Every few minutes, Tara would drive by, and the officers would have to stop writing and duck down, hoping Tara couldn't see them.

“Man, I hope she can't tell the windows are fogged up, and figure out what we're doing,” Gaskins said.

“That would be bad,” Ambrosini replied, laughing.

For the entire time Shelia was inside with Rachel, the game continued: the officers would listen and watch and try to take notes—and then Tara would drive by again. By then it was so dark they knew she couldn't see them, but they knew she might be able to see some of the LED lights from their equipment inside the vehicles. Of course, writing soon became difficult in the dark, but they didn't have much longer to wait, because Shelia came out a few minutes later.

Despite all their efforts to catch Shelia in her lie, she didn't say anything that would directly incriminate her. It was clear to the state troopers and FBI agents listening outside that the teens were involved in a conspiracy—just as Rachel had said—but bugging Rachel and Shelia's “reunion” only produced one useful piece of information: the two girls spoke of “sticking together” in the coming days and weeks. Otherwise, the police got nothing else that helped their case.

However, this incident may have had an unintended consequence. Rumors that Rachel wore a wire started circulating in May, soon after the arrests. They persisted even after both Rachel and Shelia were found guilty of Skylar's murder. Every member of law enforcement directly involved in the case denied the rumor at the time. The FBI audiovisual surveillance was probably its source.

At the moment of their reunion, Shelia was oblivious to all of that; her only care was telling the world how happy she was to see Rachel—
her
Rachel—again. When Shelia left, she happily tweeted,
FINALLLLY GOT TO SEEE @_racchh
<3. She attached a selfie of the pair.

In that revealing photo, the pair of matching smiles seems forced and one can see the stress Rachel was under, her eyes rimmed with dark circles and a look of exhaustion in her expression. Shelia said as much with her very next tweet:
and i don't even care how bad we look
. Shelia never expected that tweet to be the last one she ever sent directly to Rachel.

Soon after leaving Rachel, Shelia was no longer happy. Police believe that's because Rachel's parents told Tara their daughter needed to stay away from Rachel—Shelia wasn't allowed to try to call, text, or chat online with Rachel. That if Shelia tried, it would be of no use anyway, since they were taking Rachel's cell phone and other electronic devices.

People who have tracked the girls' tweets believed it could have been something else entirely; that somehow that night, Rachel told Shelia that the police were onto them, so she needed to be careful. They speculated Rachel could have handed Shelia a small piece of paper as she told her goodbye at her front door, or she could have called her on the phone right after that and given her a heads-up.

Whatever happened, Rachel's parents did confiscate her cell phone. Then they left town. While Rachel was in Chestnut Ridge, Rusty and Patricia began reflecting on her behavior during the last six months, and how she had gone from being respectful to hateful and argumentative. They remembered how she seemed to be keeping secrets and looking to Shelia and Tara for approval. They wanted to get Rachel away from Shelia—and her mother. Rachel had grown far too close to Tara since Skylar's disappearance, and Tara seemed to be trying to control Rachel as much as Shelia had been. United in their approach to parenting in a way they never had been before, Rusty and Patricia were determined to do whatever they could to make that happen. Under no circumstances were they going to allow Rachel to have any communication with Shelia. Or Tara.

Back home in the warmth and security of her mom and stepdad's townhouse, Shelia's next tweet,
-_______-
, shows clearly her world wouldn't stay warm and cozy for long. The emoticon depicts a mouth and two squinty eyes, and is teenspeak for any feeling from dislike to hostility. The longer the line, the greater the displeasure. The line Shelia tweeted was quite long, indicating she was very, very upset.

She also tweeted,
i dont have time to be wasting my time
.

thirty-six

All That Remains

It had been another
bad day for Shelia. At 8:30 that morning, she had tweeted,
first time ive ever been completely speechless
. That was followed almost immediately with,
holy fuck
. Shelia wasn't easily rattled, but something had stunned her.

Just after noon she had tweeted,
someone please explain to me why i get myself into situations i can't get out of
? And fifteen minutes later she retweeted something that she also felt:
I am so sick of everything like I don't even know how to deal with reality anymore
. She was feeling sorry for herself, but not as sorry as she would feel when the day ended.

Shelia's eyes were wide when she opened the front door and found Gaskins and three other state troopers on the stoop. “Can I help you?”

It was Friday, January 4, the day after the FBI had bugged Rachel's house in anticipation of the teens' reunion.

Gaskins held up a sheaf of papers. “We have a couple of warrants.”

Shelia punched a number into her cell phone. “They're here, Mom, the State Police. They say they have warrants.” She sounded confused as she handed the phone to Gaskins.

“It's for electronics and knives,” he said in answer to her question.

He listened as Tara asked them to wait for her to get home from work.

“We can do that,” Gaskins said, turning his back to Shelia, voice lowered. “But we need to wait inside. To make sure Shelia doesn't hurt herself, or anything.”

It was standard protocol for searches, to ensure none of the evidence, or the person being served, was harmed. Gaskins knew he had several good reasons to keep a close eye on Shelia.

Just then, two vehicles pulled up to the Clendenen house—a car with four FBI agents and a truck to carry the confiscated material.

“What's all this?” Shelia asked as the truck backed toward them.

Gaskins handed Shelia the phone.

“Mom? What's going on?” Shelia said. Her voice was shaky.

As Gaskins eased past Shelia, he heard her say, “But what do they want?”

Shelia sometimes had an oddly childlike quality about her, especially around her mother. Gaskins had seen it more than once during interviews, usually right before she started crying. More often than not Tara would shut down the interrogation at that point.

He called down to the lead agent in the driveway. “The mother will be here soon. She's on her way home from work.” He then went inside to wait with Shelia for Tara. The troopers stood while Shelia sat on the sofa.

When Tara arrived fifteen minutes later, Gaskins sent a couple of his men outside to help her in. It was icy and he didn't want her to fall. When Tara got inside and saw the word “murder” on the warrants, she turned and gave Shelia a long, hard look. Gaskins thought her expression said it all: “Is this true?”

Shelia got up, took the papers from her mother, and her eyes grew big as she read the words. She didn't say a word. Neither did Tara.

Gaskins asked them both to wait in the dining room during the search. He stepped onto the porch and signaled the agents outside to get started.

In the kitchen, two agents opened all the drawers and after taking photos, bagged and tagged every knife they found. Meanwhile, Gaskins headed upstairs to Shelia's bedroom.

Outside, the driver of the truck checked his paperwork against the car in the driveway: a 2006 silver Toyota Camry, registered to James and Tara Clendenen. It was a match. He unhooked chains and began the process of impounding Shelia's car. Pulling a lever on the rollback truck's bed, it slid backward on a hydraulic jack, causing it to tilt down on the ground and effectively make a ramp. He hooked a winch to the front end of the vehicle and pulled it up onto the bed.

“This is it,” he said to no one in particular. He began to unhook chains from his truck and drag them back toward the car. The FBI agents didn't even bother going inside. They were there for the car and only the car. The FBI had tests to run to see if they could corroborate any part of Rachel's confession. In fifteen minutes, the agents and the truck were gone—with Shelia's car.

To Gaskins, Shelia's bedroom seemed like any other teenage girl's: colorful and messy. Bob Marley posters hung on the walls. Closet and dresser drawers sat partially open and the bed wasn't made.

After he peered under her bed and lifted the mattress, Gaskins searched the desk and closet. He then checked the hallway bathroom. Finding nothing, he went back downstairs. Shelia and Tara sat on the couch in the living room, watching.

The search lasted two hours. Any electronic devices they had missed with the last warrant, as well as every knife in the house, were labeled and boxed up for transport. Gaskins noted that whatever Shelia might be feeling, she sure wasn't showing it.

BOOK: Pretty Little Killers
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