“So what happened? Did she stay with her husband in Idaho?”
She nodded. “Yes, she did. It took a while for law enforcement to sort everything out, but the only men who were involved in the actual kidnapping of these women were Dugan and eventually his oldest son, Clive.”
“So Dugan kidnapped a sixteen-year-old girl for Clive, and then once Clive was a bit older, he helped his father kidnap the girls for his brothers?”
“Basically, yes. Clive and his wife, Julianna, had four sons by the time everything came to a head. Clive was in on the kidnapping of the girls three of his younger brothers were to marry, so he, along with Dugan, were arrested, and Julianna and her four sons were sent back to Kansas, where she was originally taken from and where her parents still lived. The second son, Cole, was in his mid-twenties by this point, but while he’d been forced by his father to marry the girl picked out for him, apparently, he never consummated the marriage, and the two had lived as friends. Cole and his wife left the compound and settled in LA, where they eventually led separate lives. The middle son was named Craig. He and his wife, Shawna, were happy with their lives and decided to stay on the family compound with each other and their children. Son number four died in a hunting accident before a girl was kidnapped for him. The youngest son, Caleb, was married to Libby, and the couple had elected to stay on the compound and raise their family along with Craig and Shawna and their children.”
“Wow. What a complicated case.”
“It really was.”
She’d finished her wine, so I offered her a refill, which she accepted. Georgia had made pear salads, so I decided that now was a good time to serve them. Once I brought the salads and the still warm from the oven bread out, I decided to ask about the case that had brought her here to Holiday Bay.
Thankfully, she launched right in. “Grover McClellan killed five couples beginning in two thousand fifteen. We know this for a fact. I wasn’t part of the team who profiled and eventually caught up with him, but I think there is little doubt that this man is guilty of the deed he’s doing a life sentence for. Then a month ago, you found the burial site here in Holiday Bay. From what seemed to have come from out of nowhere, McClellan asked to speak to his attorney and confessed to killing the eleven people you found buried in the mass grave. These eleven people had been killed in the late nineteen eighties, so we weren’t sure he was telling the truth.”
“Why the gap?” I asked. “Why would this man kill eleven individuals and bury them here in Maine in the late nineteen eighties, go dormant for so many years, and then kill ten people, which he was later prosecuted for?”
“According to McClellan, he originally had twelve victims picked out during his time on the East Coast in the eighties. Six men and six women, representing six couples. I guess couples were his thing since he was sent to prison three years ago for killing couples as well. Anyway, according to McClellan, victims number eleven and twelve were a young couple he’d met in a bar and intended to kill, but after he killed the man, he found he couldn’t kill the woman. Long story short, McClellan claims to have fallen in love with victim number twelve, so he moved across the country with her, got a job, and apparently stopped killing. On the surface, based on what we’ve been told, it appears that McClellan and victim number twelve, whose name was Connie Fuller, had a happy life together. Then in two thousand fifteen, Connie died after a long battle with cancer, and McClellan started killing again.”
“Five couples in less than three years.”
“Exactly.”
“So why would this man confess to killing the people in Maine if he didn’t do it? Why would he confess to doing it if he did do it? That part makes no sense.”
“McClellan wants to get married again,” Sydney shared. “Apparently, he’s been corresponding with a woman who thinks the story of a man so broken-hearted over the death of his wife that he goes on a killing spree choosing happy couples as his victims is a romantic one.”
That comment made me wrinkle my nose. “Really?”
“Really.”
I honestly didn’t get people sometimes. “Okay, so even if this woman has fallen in love with McClellan, why would she want to marry him? I’m sure he must be in prison for life.”
“He is, and trust me, there’s no way he is ever going to be a free man. But there are women who are into that sort of thing. I suppose it’s a safe relationship. This woman can be married yet assured that she’s never going to have to share her toothbrush holder.”
“Is this woman allowed to visit this serial killer?”
“She is as long as McClellan stays out of trouble. The visits are monitored, and McClellan is in chains the entire time. Not really all that romantic in my book, but I guess to each his own.”
“Okay, so McClellan hopes to trade information about the eleven skeletons found in the burial site on a parcel of land I own for permission to get hitched?”
“Basically.”
I leaned forward on my elbows. “Do you think McClellan did it? Do you think he killed the eleven people in the grave?”
“I wasn’t sure at first, but after talking to McClellan and then speaking to the forensic team who are trying to identify the victims, I’m going to have to say yes, I do think he did it. McClellan knew details only the person who put those bodies in that grave could know. And given the fact
