Smoke, Mirrors, and Murder

would be the one driving their children to school, sports events, doctors, and dentists, and taking the pets to the veterinarians. That didn’t sit well with Bill.
    Sue chose to believe that Bill hadn’t held Scott hostage on the day he moved out. Scott loved and trusted the father who had vowed the little boy would live, despite all odds, the father who sheltered him against the problems of the world. Even though Sue and Bill could no longer pretend that their marriage wasn’t over, that didn’t mean that Bill’s participation in his children’s lives would end.
    And yet beginning in the summer of 2001, Bill rarely attempted to see his children. He clearly wasn’t in the Seattle area. If his children heard from him once a month, they considered themselves fortunate. Once the divorce was final, surely they would be able to spend time with their father on a regular basis.
    Even so, no one could have had any idea of the tortuous and precarious road the Jensens would take as they headed for divorce—or the shocking ending that lay ahead.
    The breakup of any marriage that once began with high hopes is sad. That is hard enough; total, paralyzing terror is more than either the husband or wife should have to endure.
    Sue expected that Bill would make her life difficult, but she still wasn’t afraid of him.
     
    At first, Sue Jensen and her children felt mostly relief that they no longer had to live with Bill Jensen’s mercurial moods and his glowering presence. The no-contact/protection order was in place, but he made no effort to see Sue and contacted his children only sporadically. Those meetings and calls usually ended in tears.
    Sue’s attorney attempted to contact Bill’s lawyer to ask that they cooperate on putting together an inventory of the couple’s holdings. Once that was done, Sue could locate those assets and determine what had been used up or displaced, and negotiate repayment to the Jensens’ community property.
    Sue wasn’t greedy, but she wanted a fair accounting. Most of all, she wanted to be sure that there would be adequate provision for any medical care Scott might need in the future. He was doing very well, but Noonan’s syndrome made him vulnerable to a number of physical ailments, and Sue wanted to be sure he had the best care. Although Bill was supposed to continue their medical insurance, Sue was worried he would allow it to lapse—and he did. She kept up their medical insurance payments—even for Bill, because he reported all kinds of illnesses, from heart attacks to cancer.
    Jenny would soon be going to the University of Washington, and her mother wanted to be sure there was enough money to pay for her tuition, books, and lodging.
    Sue had never worried about taking care of their two children before; she had been secure in the knowledge that money had been set aside for them. But she was finding out that Bill had spent great chunks of that money. She had never been acquisitive or curious about the family budget, but now she vowed to find out where hundreds of thousands of dollars had gone, and to see that Bill paid back their community property.
    That would not be easy. The entire summer of 2001 passed and they were no closer to arranging a meeting where she and Bill and their attorneys could discuss a financial settlement in the Jensens’ divorce so they could move ahead to their decree.
     
    At some point over the long summer of 2001, Sue Jensen had started to fight back and take over the reins of her life.
    It was November 13 when the Jensens finally sat down in Janet Brooks’s office in an awkward and tense meeting. Sue sat diagonally across from Bill as Janet Brooks began a deposition from him by asking him innocuous questions about his date of birth, his education, his current address. He gave an address in Bellevue, saying he had moved in only four days earlier.
    He had no objection as she asked him about medications he currently took, listing almost a dozen mood elevators, heavy-duty pain pills, and over-the-counter pain medications. He acknowledged that he took those meds. Again and again, Bill Jensen referred to his chronic, intractable pain. He also explained that he had had a heart attack sometime in the prior five months, although he couldn’t recall just when that was, the results of any tests he had had, or a diagnosis. He said he wasn’t taking any prescription medication for his heart attack.
    As Janet Brooks bore in on questions, Jensen’s answers were