Dancing With Death: The True Story of a Glamorous Showgirl, Her Wealthy Husband, and a Horrifying Murder by Shanna Hogan

Author:Shanna Hogan [Hogan, Shanna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Non-Fiction, True Crime
Goodreads: 11398768
Publisher: St. Martin's True Crime
Published: 2011-05-23T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

At about seven p.m. on October 28, after two miserable hours inside an interrogation room, Marjorie left the police station. Her attorney drove her to the Childhelp center to pick up Noah. On the way, Webb told Marjorie what he had learned through the detectives: three search warrants were served and all of her vehicles had been seized.

“They will be at your house most of the night,” Webb said, “so you can’t go back there tonight.”

“Okay,” Marjorie said, calmly.

“They told me it’s your husband body,” Webb said, as he glanced at Marjorie. “They are pretty sure it’s him.”

Marjorie nodded. She appeared unfazed. After picking up Noah, Webb asked her where she wanted to be taken.

“You’ll have to stay at a hotel for the night if you have nowhere else to go,” he said.

“Take me to Larry’s daughter’s house,” Marjorie said.

Webb said he didn’t think that was a good idea, but Marjorie was adamant, “Take me to Jodi Weisberg’s!”

Marjorie wanted to see Larry. She knew if the cops were searching his house, too, that’s where he would be. They arrived at Jodi’s about a half an hour later. Marjorie got out of the car, sprinted to the house, and pounded on the front door. Jodi opened it.

“My dad’s not here,” Jodi said.

Past Jodi, Marjorie could see Larry weaving back and forth in the dark.

“I need to talk to him,” Marjorie said. She yelled over Jodi’s shoulder to Larry, “I need to talk to you!”

Sullenly, Larry came outside, followed by Jodi and Brad Fritz. Larry appeared dejected. The events of the day clearly had impacted him. The sixty-year-old production manager who was often mistaken for a bodybuilder looked meek. He was trembling. When he saw Marjorie, he began sobbing.

Outside on Jodi’s front lawn, everyone began shouting. Marjorie kept trying to pull Larry aside, but Jodi blocked her. “You need to go, Marjorie!”

“I need to speak with you, Larry!” Her voice raised defiantly. “Larry! Larry! Larry! We need to talk.”

Larry was stumbling around. He put his head in his hands and cried. Webb grabbed Marjorie’s elbow. “Let’s go. We need to go.” He pulled Marjorie toward the car. “Your son’s watching this!”

Marjorie got back in the car and they left. Webb drove her and Noah to a hotel.

“I’ll see what I can find out,” Webb said. “I’ll pick you two up in the morning. We’ll take care of this.”

That night, Marjorie tried to stay as calm as possible for Noah. After they checked into their room, she tucked him into the hotel room bed and Marjorie went into the bathroom. Vacantly, she stared at her reflection in the mirror for what seemed like hours. When she went back into the bedroom she noticed the glowing digital clock. It was well after midnight. It was officially October 29—her forty-third birthday. There would be no celebration.

* * *

At eight a.m. that morning, attorney Rob Webb arrived at Phoenix Police headquarters and called Detective Barnes, who came outside to return Marjorie’s house keys. Barnes explained

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