Chapter One

                                                           Chapter One


                   I had worked for years throughout the Spring, Summer and Fall months for a man named Robert Furnia. I helped a lot with lawn care, simple maintenance and up keep on his lakeside, million-dollar home and adjoining properties. I hired my friend Victoria Steen for the 2006 season to work alongside of me as a partner.
                   This day in particular we had started the morning by working at the end of an old dirt road that ran along the edge of the Lake Ontario. We had bid on a side job at an elderly man’s home. We started that morning on his property and were to finish the day doing odd chores at Robert's.
                   We arrived and began to clean the debris from the winter thaw that was thrown around the lawn, from sticks, to leaves and any garbage that had washed up along the shore. Victoria, whom we called "Vicky," had started to rake near the rock railing that lined the small patio attached to the little cottage our customer owned. I started to pile the large sticks that had been scattered across his lawn near the base of an old oak tree.
                   Out of the blue, I see Vicky jump up as if startled.
                   "What's wrong?" I asked her.
                   "There are bees in my pants." She responded with a very unsure voice.
                   "What?" I asked her.
                   "Bee's," she said again as she danced the jig in the front yard. Within seconds, she unbuttoned her pants and unzipped them. I stood in amazement as I was unsure of what to do.
                   Without thinking Vicky ripped her jeans down to her ankles, exposing her black grandma panties. Within seconds, she was rolling on the ground as if she was on fire. The famous stop, drop and roll seemed to work even on bee's. Vicky proceeded to get to her feet, with her pants sprawled around her ankles, and she waddled over to me.
                   I looked over to where she had been raking and a small swarm of bees started to exit the hole in the ground. She had raked over a wasp hive hidden in the tall grass. Looking up towards the house as I helped Vicky to her feet, and I noticed the old man was now standing in his large bay window facing us staring at us through a small set of black binoculars. I laughed hysterically.
                   We wrapped up the job and walked back down the dirt road to Robert's. By this time Vicky was irritated and ready to go home. I promised her we wouldn't be at Robert's long. I decided with her being stung top to bottom we would finish up a few things needed to be completed before we planted the flowers for the Spring and head home.
                   I grabbed my rake and went ahead raking along the old cement rock wall that lined the front side of Robert's lawn. As I finished raking the ground by the wall, my rake hit an object in the ground that had been covered by the soil. As I pulled the rake back, I exposed a dead bird, not just any bird, a very large dead seagull. I overheard Vicky say that she was tired of shoveling. I had her getting fresh soil together in to the trailer, that we would place in side of the pre-built flower beds, sprawled out on Robert's property. "I would rather rake." I heard Vicky say.
                   Slowly, I covered the dead bird back up and said, "Really."
                   "You can come over here and rake, I will trade you." I smiled and walked toward Vicky as she seemed relieved she did not have to shovel anymore. Vicky switched spots with me. I happily handed her my rake.
                   I then traded Vicky my rake for her shovel. "Start at the far end." I pointed to the end of the wall, where the dead bird lay hidden. A few minutes passed and I noticed she had made her way to this particular spot. I watched her hit the bird with her rake. Doing just as I did, she leaned over to take a closer look. At that moment. I climbed up on to the lawn tractor seat. I smiled ear to ear as I watched her.
                   "What the hell." I heard her softly say, "Is this a dead bird?" As she looked closer and pulled the bird from the ground. The look on her face was total disgust. I could not help but to laugh. Vicky grabbed the bird by its lifeless wing, holding it up in the air. She immediately turned to look at me. "You are an asshole," she says.
                   Our day ended at Robert's on a good note. Leaving us with memories and a few laughs.
                   My daily routine was to pick Vicky up in the morning and to drop her back off at home. She had no vehicle and living one mile from me made it easy for me to help her get to and from work. But dropping her off at home on this evening would leave a traumatic result to our friendship.
                   Once we arrived at her home, her then boyfriend, James "Thumper" Steen, whom she had just started to date had beat us home, which was unusual for him and he was miserable. Vicky nor I knew what was wrong with him. Vicky started to cook Thumper a quick dinner. I sat quietly at the table observing her as she prepared the largest single serving of eggs I had ever seen. I was astonished at the amount of food she could pile on to a single plate. A mountain of scrambled eggs and eight pieces of toast. Vicky finished cooking and prepared to serve Thumper his dinner. She nodded for me to follow her in to the living room James sat in his recliner, his eyes affixed on their small television, as he watched the local news. He never thanked her or said a word. He grabbed his dinner and started to shovel the eggs in to his mouth. Vicky and I sat just behind James on the couch. Just as we sat down a young man walked in to the room. He climbed up on to the arm of the couch, and placed his back to the wall. The room was completely silent other than the news that was broadcasting on the television. Both Vicky and I were uncomfortable due to James. A Heidi Allen clip aired across the news.
                   "I wonder what happened to her." I said to Vicky.
                   "Yeah, me too." She responded. At this point we were only making small talk amongst ourselves.
                   Heidi Allen was abducted on Easter Morning in 1994 from her place of employment, a local convenience store where she worked as a cashier. On Easter morning, she vanished and was never heard from or seen again.
                   Immediately after Vicky said she wonder what happened to Heidi, James Steen furiously snapped his head around. "You really want to know what fuckin’ happened?" His voice was loud and firm.
                   "Sure." We both responded. Neither of us expected to hear the words that escaped his mouth. James mouth was full of eggs and as he spoke, bits of egg were spit into the air sailing across the room.
                   Confusion crossed both our faces and we looked at one another.
                   "Heidi was a snitch." He said as he shoveled eggs down his throat.
                   "What do you mean a snitch?"
                   "A rat. That's what happens to rats around here." His comment did not seem to make any sense to us. We had no idea what he meant.
                   "You know Michael Bohrer and Roger Breckenridge?" he asked.
                   We both nodded our heads in agreement.
                   "We all got up early that morning and headed to the store. We parked close to the store doors. We left the double doors in the back of Bohrer's van open and pulled close to the store, Bohrer sat in the van with it running. Breckenridge went in the front door to the counter. I went behind the counter and I grabbed her," as he said this he raised his plate of eggs with his left hand and in his right hand he held on to his fork. He formed a circle out in front of him with his arms as if to show he bear hugged her.
                   "I then dragged her out of the store." As he said this he released a deep hearty laugh. "When we hit that van with her, we hit that van, HARD." Excitement escaped from Steen the more he spoke, and the more aggressive he became. "Bohrer then floored it. We took off like a bat out of hell." Another deep laugh. "It wasn't Bohrer that had the van all over the road, it was Heidi. She was beating the shit out of Roger and me in the back of the van. We had a hard time keeping her under control." Steen seemed to find humor in this entire story he was unraveling in front of Vicky and me.
                   The young man who had entered the room only heard half of the story before he exited quickly half way through James tale and said, "I don’t need to hear this."
                   "We drove straight to Jennifer Wescott's house. You know Jenn, right?" He knew we did, she was Roger Breckenridge’s girlfriend for years.
                   "We went to her house over on Rice Road, remember when she lived there?" Neither of us said a word. He continued to devour his massive dinner plate. Vicky and I again looked at one another. We could usually read each other's thoughts just by a simple look. The look on her face was pure confusion.
                   "Which way did you go?" I asked him.
                   At this point I was unsure of what to think. I don’t think Vicky had an idea if he was lying or telling the truth. So, we started to play with Steen by randomly interrupting him and asking him questions. I think Steen sensed that we were unsure if he was telling the truth and he grew irritated. His voice got louder as he continued his tale of kidnapping Heidi Allen. Have you ever sat in an enclosed room with a man the size of Andre the Giant and had him confess to a kidnapping and murder? Do you lead him on that you believe him? Or do you pretend you don’t? Which one’s the safer process?
                   "104 to 69, straight to Jenn's."
                   "Why would you take the main roads?"
                   "Why not, " he responded gruffly. "It was the quickest route to her house, straight shot." Every question we seemed to ask, Steen had an immediate answer to.
                   "We arrived at Jennifer's and she was pissed off, she tried to get us to leave. But," he chuckled, “we wouldn't and she was pissed we were there. We beat Heidi with what we could find. We then wrapped up her dead body and carried her across the road."
                   A huge outburst of a deep laugh erupted from James chest as if he had a spark in his memory. "We almost couldn't get her in to the thicket, and a car was coming. We almost got caught." He went on to tell us, "Heidi was a big girl but dead her body weighed a ton. I almost had a heart attack carrying her in to the woods." Vicky and I were silent. I believe we were both at a loss for words and in shock as to his claims. I am more than certain the looks on our faces gave that away.
                   "You don't believe me?" He asked. Steen was not known to be a liar; he was known as a straight shooter, never led anyone astray. At this point both Vicky and I were unsure of what was real. This did not sound like the James Steen we had come to know over the last few months, as he dated Vicky. It was hard to believe that he was a cold-blooded murderer.
                   "If you don’t believe me, go ask Jenn." he added. "We crossed the tracks, hit another row of thicket and once you get through the trees, it opens up and there sits a cabin. So we cut her up." He laughed. We did not ask him how or why he had cut her body in to pieces. I don’t think anyone would ask that question. He continued by saying, "We placed some of her things in a wood stove and pieces of her under the cabin floors and resealed the floor boards." It became too scary to believe him.
                   "So, you cut her up, how did you cover the blood and the smell of the body?" I asked.
                   "That was easy, dead animals, made it look as though some one was hunting."
                   "Why did you take her in that way?" Vicky asked.
                   "Because it was the only way in to the cabin without being seen."
                    "How did you pull this off, without being caught?"
                   "Some BIG, BIG guys," Steen said.
                   "Like who?" we sarcastically asked.
                   "Just...big, big guys." No matter how Vicky or I tried, there was no way Steen was giving up the names of the other's that were involved.
                   "Isn't there an innocent man in prison for this? I asked a little confused.
                   "Not my fuckin’ problem," he said as he shrugged his shoulders, "We didn't like him."
                   "You didn't like him?" I asked, "Did you even know him?"
                    "Nope, we knew of him, but didn't like him." He replied.
                   In 1994 Gary Thibodeau and Richard Thibodeau were arrested for the kidnapping of Heidi Allen. Richard Thibodeau was found not guilty and Gary in a separate trial was found guilty. Gary was sentenced to 25 years to life for the kidnapping that James Steen had just confessed to in front of Vicky and I.
                   Totally disgusted with the conversation and his responses about this innocent man, I said," Well I think it is time I head home." I just wanted to leave as quickly and as quietly as I could. I fixed my eyes on the front door. As I stood up James ended the conversation with, "If you don’t believe me, go look. Me telling you here and now is only hearsay, but if you do go look you will become a witness and I will have to kill you." He glared at us.
                   I didn't say a word and peacefully made my departure. The front door seemed to be a mile away and that walk seemed to take me forever. As I started to exit, Vicky stood up right behind me. I looked over my shoulder and Vicky had a concerned, confused look on her face. She was on my heels every step of the way, as we proceeded to exit her home.
                   The entire time we are making our escape, James yelled from the living room. "If you don’t believe me, go ask Jenn." he repeated this over and over, until we shut the front door suffocating his voice. I was relieved as I reached my car door.
                    I softly said to Vicky, "If you need a place come to my house." I wasn't even certain that would be the safest bet for Vicky, as I only lived a mile down the road. Vicky did not utter one word to me that day and she never came to my home with her daughter.
I slowly, over the next few days and months pulled completely out of Vicky's life. I did not know what to think of Steen’s confession and Vicky went on to marry James and that would be the worst decision she would ever make. It would also be her last.