the first to speak. “Steve and Patrick were fast friends since kindergarten. They played together when they were little, were on the lacrosse team in middle and high school, went on dates together—you could say they were inseparable. They were already making plans to apply to the same colleges,” he said.
Kate Hager had taken out a piece of tissue and was dabbing at her tears. “They loved adventure, particularly extreme sports,” she said. “They went bungee jumping in West Virginia, did all kinds of acrobatics on their skate boards—you know, half pipes, that sort of thing—and they were very much into trail biking. They were always going to Great Falls Park and had ridden in Shenandoah and some of the other national parks. About four months ago, one of them read in a biking magazine about a new adventure sport that involved riding trails at night. They went out and bought lights for their helmets and started practicing after dark in the parks here in McLean. We think they had been to Great Falls Park at night before, but we’re not sure. They weren’t supposed to go anywhere without telling us, but you know how that is with teenagers. They were good about not going out on school nights though, and we think the only reason they were in Great Falls Park the night they were killed was that the next day was a school holiday.”
Phil Hager interrupted. “How in the hell were they murdered, Detective? When Dave and I went to identify the bodies, they kept the sheets tucked up under the boys’ chins to hide their necks. Now the mortuary is telling us that if we want open caskets, they’ll have to dress them in turtlenecks to hide the bruises,” he said.
“Their necks were broken,” M.J. said matter-of-factly. “If it’s any comfort, the Medical Examiner said they both died instantly.”
“You mean someone broke their necks?” Jean Marsten gasped, putting her fingers to her lips.
“Yes,” M.J. replied. “We are keeping that information very close, however, while we’re conducting the investigation and I would ask that you not share it with anyone.”
“Who would do such a thing?” Jean Marsten asked.
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out Mrs. Marsten,” M.J. said. “Anything any of you might know about anyone who would want to kill the boys would be very helpful to us.”
“How many people do you think were involved?” David Marsten asked.
“We don’t know for sure,” M.J. replied. “Based on what evidence we have, it appears that the same assailant killed both boys, but that doesn’t mean there weren’t others involved.”
“I can’t imagine anyone wanting to kill our boys, can you?” Kate Hager asked, turning to look at the other parents, all of whom shook their heads in agreement. She added, “I mean they were popular at school, didn’t do any drugs, and played sports . . . ”
“Was either of them dating anyone?” Jake asked.
“Patrick had been dating the same girl since Middle School,” Kate Hager said, turning to look at Jean Marsten. “Jean, hadn’t Steve just started dating someone new about a month ago?” she asked.
“That’s right,” Jean Marsten replied. “A nice girl. I’ll give you her name if you like,” she said, turning toward Jake.
“We’ll actually need both girls’ names,” Jake said. “We may want to talk to them.”
Jean Marsten took a pen and paper from the coffee table, wrote down the girls’ names and handed it to Jake. “They both go to Langley High School, same as the boys,” she said.
“When are the boys’ funerals?” M.J. asked.
“This Friday. There’s going to be one service for both of them and they’ll be buried next to each other . . . We thought they’d want it that way,” Phil Hager replied, his voice cracking and tears forming in his eyes.
“We want to thank all of you and offer our deepest condolences,” M.J. said, rising from her chair
Kate Hager had taken out a piece of tissue and was dabbing at her tears. “They loved adventure, particularly extreme sports,” she said. “They went bungee jumping in West Virginia, did all kinds of acrobatics on their skate boards—you know, half pipes, that sort of thing—and they were very much into trail biking. They were always going to Great Falls Park and had ridden in Shenandoah and some of the other national parks. About four months ago, one of them read in a biking magazine about a new adventure sport that involved riding trails at night. They went out and bought lights for their helmets and started practicing after dark in the parks here in McLean. We think they had been to Great Falls Park at night before, but we’re not sure. They weren’t supposed to go anywhere without telling us, but you know how that is with teenagers. They were good about not going out on school nights though, and we think the only reason they were in Great Falls Park the night they were killed was that the next day was a school holiday.”
Phil Hager interrupted. “How in the hell were they murdered, Detective? When Dave and I went to identify the bodies, they kept the sheets tucked up under the boys’ chins to hide their necks. Now the mortuary is telling us that if we want open caskets, they’ll have to dress them in turtlenecks to hide the bruises,” he said.
“Their necks were broken,” M.J. said matter-of-factly. “If it’s any comfort, the Medical Examiner said they both died instantly.”
“You mean someone broke their necks?” Jean Marsten gasped, putting her fingers to her lips.
“Yes,” M.J. replied. “We are keeping that information very close, however, while we’re conducting the investigation and I would ask that you not share it with anyone.”
“Who would do such a thing?” Jean Marsten asked.
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out Mrs. Marsten,” M.J. said. “Anything any of you might know about anyone who would want to kill the boys would be very helpful to us.”
“How many people do you think were involved?” David Marsten asked.
“We don’t know for sure,” M.J. replied. “Based on what evidence we have, it appears that the same assailant killed both boys, but that doesn’t mean there weren’t others involved.”
“I can’t imagine anyone wanting to kill our boys, can you?” Kate Hager asked, turning to look at the other parents, all of whom shook their heads in agreement. She added, “I mean they were popular at school, didn’t do any drugs, and played sports . . . ”
“Was either of them dating anyone?” Jake asked.
“Patrick had been dating the same girl since Middle School,” Kate Hager said, turning to look at Jean Marsten. “Jean, hadn’t Steve just started dating someone new about a month ago?” she asked.
“That’s right,” Jean Marsten replied. “A nice girl. I’ll give you her name if you like,” she said, turning toward Jake.
“We’ll actually need both girls’ names,” Jake said. “We may want to talk to them.”
Jean Marsten took a pen and paper from the coffee table, wrote down the girls’ names and handed it to Jake. “They both go to Langley High School, same as the boys,” she said.
“When are the boys’ funerals?” M.J. asked.
“This Friday. There’s going to be one service for both of them and they’ll be buried next to each other . . . We thought they’d want it that way,” Phil Hager replied, his voice cracking and tears forming in his eyes.
“We want to thank all of you and offer our deepest condolences,” M.J. said, rising from her chair
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