Renee’s son, Brent—I don’t know
who
raised him. He was mostly in foster homes. I don’t know who his father was, but Renee’s son, Brent, was always in trouble. And I don’t think he ever actually lived with her.”
So Renee had been helpful to her male cousins but apparently hadn’t taken responsibility for her own children. Ben Benson found her life story more tangled with everyone he interviewed.
By this time, Benson had already done an initial check on Nick Notaro, Renee’s adopted brother, and noted that Nick had a criminal record, one for a sexual crime involving a juvenile girl.
Victoria asked Benson if it was Nick’s wife they had found on the property on Canyon Road.
“No,” Benson said slowly, puzzled. He hadn’t heard anything about Nick’s wife.
“Nick went to prison for killing his wife,” Victoria continued. “But they never found her body.”
“Is that right?” Benson said, letting that information sink in.
“Oh, then it must have been Renee’s boyfriend—the one who disappeared,” Victoria said calmly. “I guess he never showed up either.”
“I was beginning to think this was a very strange family,” Benson said later.
Ben Benson contacted Dr. John Stewart at the FBI’s DNA laboratory and asked if he could send the bones that almost certainly belonged to Joe Tarricone to the lab to be tested. They had been kept sacrosanct in the chain of evidence system since they were found.
“Yes,” Stewart said. “Send them by Federal Express to the Evidence Control Unit at our laboratory here in Quantico.”
Dr. Stewart also asked Benson to send DNA samples from Joe Tarricone’s close relatives. Benson sent portions of the still officially unknown victim’s left humerus and left ilium, and he included DNA exemplars from Joe’s sister, Mimi Kraft, and from his son Dean.
Even without a complete skull, there was a good chance the FBI lab could tentatively identify the bones as belonging to Joe Tarricone.
It would take a long wait to receive an answer, however. The FBI is overwhelmed with requests for DNA matches. This was a homicide case thirty years old and didn’t demand the immediate attention that recent cases did. Indeed, it would be March 2008 when the FBI lab reported that they were unsuccessful in identifying the exemplars Benson had sent in using nuclear tests. But they
did
have better results with mitochondrial DNA comparison between Joe’s relatives and the unidentified bones. This wasn’t as conclusive as nuclear DNA. Still, it meant that only one person in hundreds would have the same characteristics in the mitochondrial DNA matches.
Benson and Dr. Kathy Taylor sent in another bone to be tested shortly thereafter, and this time the odds were much higher that Joe Tarricone was the victim.
Ben Benson continued to search for evidence and/or witnesses, checking out the backgrounds of all “persons of interest” in Tarricone’s homicide. He still worked alone from the summer of 2007 until the early months of 2008. Denny Wood had been called up as a reserve officer and was on a foreign assignment.
Ben actually talked to Renee Curtiss in late summer. He had found that she was working—or had been working—for Henry’s Bail Bonds near Pioneer Square in Seattle. He went there and talked to a black man, who introduced himself as Henry Lewis. Ben asked if he knew of a Renee Curtiss.
“She’s right here,” the bail bonds company owner said, and Benson found himself looking at Renee Curtiss in person for the first time. She was an attractive, well-groomed woman in her fifties who now had some hard edges. She smiled as she invited him to sit down at her desk.
Benson chose not to let on that he was a detective from Pierce County who was investigating the disappearance of Joe Tarricone, and Renee quickly assumed he’d come to inquire about bailing someone out. He acquiesced—inventing his “mythical sister’s son.”
“I told her I wanted to know the cost of
who
raised him. He was mostly in foster homes. I don’t know who his father was, but Renee’s son, Brent, was always in trouble. And I don’t think he ever actually lived with her.”
So Renee had been helpful to her male cousins but apparently hadn’t taken responsibility for her own children. Ben Benson found her life story more tangled with everyone he interviewed.
By this time, Benson had already done an initial check on Nick Notaro, Renee’s adopted brother, and noted that Nick had a criminal record, one for a sexual crime involving a juvenile girl.
Victoria asked Benson if it was Nick’s wife they had found on the property on Canyon Road.
“No,” Benson said slowly, puzzled. He hadn’t heard anything about Nick’s wife.
“Nick went to prison for killing his wife,” Victoria continued. “But they never found her body.”
“Is that right?” Benson said, letting that information sink in.
“Oh, then it must have been Renee’s boyfriend—the one who disappeared,” Victoria said calmly. “I guess he never showed up either.”
“I was beginning to think this was a very strange family,” Benson said later.
Ben Benson contacted Dr. John Stewart at the FBI’s DNA laboratory and asked if he could send the bones that almost certainly belonged to Joe Tarricone to the lab to be tested. They had been kept sacrosanct in the chain of evidence system since they were found.
“Yes,” Stewart said. “Send them by Federal Express to the Evidence Control Unit at our laboratory here in Quantico.”
Dr. Stewart also asked Benson to send DNA samples from Joe Tarricone’s close relatives. Benson sent portions of the still officially unknown victim’s left humerus and left ilium, and he included DNA exemplars from Joe’s sister, Mimi Kraft, and from his son Dean.
Even without a complete skull, there was a good chance the FBI lab could tentatively identify the bones as belonging to Joe Tarricone.
It would take a long wait to receive an answer, however. The FBI is overwhelmed with requests for DNA matches. This was a homicide case thirty years old and didn’t demand the immediate attention that recent cases did. Indeed, it would be March 2008 when the FBI lab reported that they were unsuccessful in identifying the exemplars Benson had sent in using nuclear tests. But they
did
have better results with mitochondrial DNA comparison between Joe’s relatives and the unidentified bones. This wasn’t as conclusive as nuclear DNA. Still, it meant that only one person in hundreds would have the same characteristics in the mitochondrial DNA matches.
Benson and Dr. Kathy Taylor sent in another bone to be tested shortly thereafter, and this time the odds were much higher that Joe Tarricone was the victim.
Ben Benson continued to search for evidence and/or witnesses, checking out the backgrounds of all “persons of interest” in Tarricone’s homicide. He still worked alone from the summer of 2007 until the early months of 2008. Denny Wood had been called up as a reserve officer and was on a foreign assignment.
Ben actually talked to Renee Curtiss in late summer. He had found that she was working—or had been working—for Henry’s Bail Bonds near Pioneer Square in Seattle. He went there and talked to a black man, who introduced himself as Henry Lewis. Ben asked if he knew of a Renee Curtiss.
“She’s right here,” the bail bonds company owner said, and Benson found himself looking at Renee Curtiss in person for the first time. She was an attractive, well-groomed woman in her fifties who now had some hard edges. She smiled as she invited him to sit down at her desk.
Benson chose not to let on that he was a detective from Pierce County who was investigating the disappearance of Joe Tarricone, and Renee quickly assumed he’d come to inquire about bailing someone out. He acquiesced—inventing his “mythical sister’s son.”
“I told her I wanted to know the cost of
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