But I Trusted You and Other True Cases by Ann Rule

Author:Ann Rule [Rule, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: True Crime, Murder, General, Serial Killers, Espionage, ARColl
ISBN: 9781439160541
Google: o6HtMskSjXIC
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2009-11-24T00:00:00+00:00

They peered into a bedroom in the basement. The unmade bed was piled deep with all kinds of junk—clothes, books, remains of food. There were bloody tissues on the nightstand, and the room was generally in disarray.

Lorraine‘s friends told them that this would be Dusty Millroy‘s room. She had complained to them that Dusty‘s room was as jumbled and full of trash as his mind had become.

In stark comparison, the tastefully decorated basement recreation room was neat—with one major exception. Someone had piled cushions from the van on top of the couch. They wondered if that person had needed to make room in the van for a large object, a human-sized object?

It wasn‘t cold in the Millroy home, but the searchers felt a chill, feeling as though they were in a horror movie, not a pleasant house in the suburbs of Bellevue. They had found only bloodstains, but that was more than enough. They expected to find the source of those stains in each room they entered.

But they had yet to find anything—or anyone.

They came to a locked door: the basement bathroom. It could be locked only from the inside, and they knew someone was in there. Again, they called out: ―King County Sheriff—come out.‖

Only dead silence answered them.

Sergeant Connally and Deputy Hursh picked the lock with a nail, and turned the knob.

Dusty Millroy was inside. He was seated on the floor facing the door, and he held a small-caliber pistol, aimed right at them.

―Put the gun down,‖ Leo Hursh said.

Dusty stared back at him, his eyes wild—but Hursh could tell he was debating with himself about what he was going to do.

―Put it someplace where you can‘t reach it,‖ Connally said firmly. ―I‘m going to count to five.‖

Finally, Dusty tossed the gun behind the vanity sink.

With his scraggly beard and mustache and his long red hair falling to his waist, Dusty Millroy looked like a crazed mountain man. He wore only a pair of stained trousers.

The King County officers took him upstairs to the living room and read him his Miranda rights. He said he understood, and initialed the card. He complained of being cold, and he told Hursh where to find his boots and brown corduroy jacket.

The boots were muddy, and the jacket had dark blotches on it.

―Are those bloodstains?‖ Detective Tolton asked.

―Naw—they‘re just grease spots.‖

Millroy‘s explanation for the condition of the home he shared with his mother was vague, if not downright peculiar. He didn‘t really know what had happened or where his mother was. He said he‘d taken her van and driven east, heading up toward Snoqualmie Pass because he ―felt like getting away.‖

―Why did you take the van?‖ Deputy Hursh asked. ―We understand that isn‘t your vehicle.‖

―Well, it was raining for one thing and the rear window‘s broken out of my car.‖

―Where did you go—exactly?‖ Tolton asked.

―To Cle Elum [a small town about forty miles east of the Snoqualmie Pass summit]. I wanted to get out of the city. Besides, I was scared and I felt really weird.

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