Last Friday, I was lucky enough to tour Folsom State Prison with alumni from the FBI Citizens Academy. At least, a small part of it. They call it the “Toughest Beat in the State” and after walking it, I would have to agree. Every cop puts his life on the line when he puts on a uniform, but putting on the uniform within the walls of a maximum security facility with 4,000 felons carries additional risks.

The prison itself is huge, split between “new” (1986) and “old” (1880) Folsom. Both are still fully operational. We were at New Folsom Prison, a maximum security facility which also has a minimum security block.

Folsom State Prison, California

This photo is particularly stunning with the Folsom Dam and Folsom Lake beyond.

I drove up the road (shown in the lower left hand corner of the photo) which was lined with inspirational sayings for correctional officers. Visitors parking is there on the left, at the end of the road, and the administration building/check-in is that first building–left of the baseball diamond. The buildings surrounding the baseball diamond are minimum security facilities. These are prisoners who have less than five years to serve who have been convicted of non-violent felonies. These may include drug charges (such as selling/manufacturing); grand theft auto; drunk-driving (usually repeat offenses or where there is injury or property damage); burglary (if no one was home at the time); and similar. Prison officials assess every prisoner who comes in, looks at their sheet, prior convictions, etc to determine where they go within the prison.

We were given a talk at the beginning, where Rhonda, our veteran guide, told us that we were entering a maximum security prison and we did so with the full understanding that it’s a dangerous place. There were, as of April 30, over 100 incidents (which can be small or large.) When we went in, both B and C blocks were in lockdown because of violent outbreaks. And she pointed out, that if we’re taken hostage, they do not negotiate. None of us turned back, but it was certainly food for thought.

Minimum security inmates work the grounds, take classes, can get their GED and even an AA, and they have far more freedom than maximum security prisoners (for obvious reasons!) In fact, there is no fence preventing them from simply walking off the grounds. However, they have a long hike, there are guard towers, and any escape attempt would result in being locked in the maximum security side plus added time.

IInmates live in a dorm-like setting, with rows of bunk beds lining alcoves right off the main rooms. They aren’t in prison cells, they are allowed to purchase mini-refrigerators, televisions (they must be clear plastic to see the inner workings, no cable), and other approved electronics. They have freedom of movement within perimeters. Unlike maximum security who lost dining hall privileges (they eat in their cells), minimum security still has a cafeteria setting. That baseball diamond you see in the front center is theirs.

I had a lot of empathy for the minimum security inmates. First, they live @40 men in an alcove, sleeping about five feet apart. Hardly enough room to breathe. Their personal space is smaller than the average jail cell in maximum, though they don’t have bars and can move around. But primarily, they’re all young men. I doubted any that I saw were over 30. They have a chance to get straight, learn a skill, get their degree, and hopefully when they get out in less than five years they’ll have learned to live right.

It’s truly unfortunate that because the state of California has mismanaged our tax dollars for more than two decades, that one of the recent cutbacks has been in parolee programs. Minimum security inmates screwed up–probably not for the first time, but they weren’t committing a violent crime. (Don’t misunderstand me–I think most need to go to prison. These are felonies, not misdemeanor drug possession or minor thefts. Violent criminals usually start with the small stuff–burglary, stealing cars, selling drugs–but often escalate as they slide deeper into criminal life.) But these are the young men who I believe can change; with education, with hope, with support and encouragement, I think they could become productive members of society. Maybe it’s wishful thinking . . . but if we can’t help them, we’ll be paying for them–in prison–to the tune of $90K a year for the rest of their lives.

On the flipside, the other tragedy of California’s fiscal failure is the cut backs on the staffing side. This was made clear when we walked through the maximum security facilities (we saw A block and B block.) On many floors, only one guard is down there. There is an armed guard in the towers watching multiple floors and/or yards, but only one correctional officer on the ground. Staffing cuts put guards at great risk–as well as other prisoners.

There are no apparent cutbacks in legal, because prisoners continue to sue the prison for a variety of claims. Some are legitimate. Most are blatantly frivolous. All of them are expensive.

When we get to the maximum security side, we’re dealing with the violent felons and repeat offenders. All are there for five or more years. 80% will never be released.

B and C blocks are hardcore facilities. See the largest building on the right? That’s were we went. B and C blocks are the two separate sections (each with their own yard) at the top of that large building. (The other group of buildings closer to the dam is Old Folsom Prison. I believe that’s medium and maximum security, but I may have that wrong. It’s run separately from New Folsom.) The tower to the left is the main intake tower that we had to pass through (under?) to get to the B/C Blocks.

I learned a lot about prison politics. Gangs control everything, and gangs are divided by race. And no matter what the government or well-meaning people want to do to force political correctness on the running of prisons, safety of the prisoners and the guards must always come first. For example, Northern Hispanics and Southern Hispanics hate each other to the point that they will fight on sight. They are segregated into B and C blocks. A Northern Hispanic gang members sued because he felt it was discriminatory to segregate the two groups. But the Folsom guard who led our tour–a sharp woman with over 25 years experience in the prison system–said that every time they have attempted integration, it has resulted in violence. The judge agreed.

We all hear about how prisoners run things, and in more ways than I believed–it’s all true. They run the yard. They run the gates. They’ll tell an officer when the new prisoners come in whether they’ll accept them on the yard. Politics is everything. Our guide quoted JURASSIC PARK: “Life finds a way.” Meaning, no matter what privileges they take away, how many lockdowns they implement, how many years they tack on to a sentence, prisoners will find a way to adapt. We went up to the Investigative Services offices. Eight special guards who look like the best of special forces (all big, buff, and the two I saw rather hot!) are responsible for investigating all incidences at the prison. This means minor disagreements to violent outbursts. They check the mail (incoming and outgoing), talk to staff about prisoners, talk to prisoners about prisoners, investigating violence to determine who did what to whom and when, and it doesn’t stop there. Why? Because prisoners from other prisons have ways of communicating that would awe AT&T. 90 cell phones were confiscated last year–including data phones like BlackBerrys, Trios, etc. 20 so far this year (four months.) They monitor the mail because prisoners will send coded letters to outside friends who forward them to other prisoners in other prisons. The criminal underground is amazing–and rather scary when you consider the extent.

Another thing we saw with the investigators were weapons made at–and confiscated–in the prison. Such as a shiv made from the lid of a can. Knifes made from melted plastic. Razor blades attached to toothbrushes. And more–over a hundred handmade weapons on display–thousands have been confiscated. And prisons have staffing reductions? I don’t get it.

If a prisoner doesn’t want to play politics, they’re threatened or attacked. Prisoners who truly want to get out of politics have an option: A block.

“A” block (the buildings to the bottom of the largest building on the right) is for prisoners who are on meds (largely paranoid schizophrenics, from what I gathered–we couldn’t take notes, no purses, pens, cell phones, electronics, etc–so this is all from memory.) It’s also where they put the sex offenders because pedophiles will be killed in B or C block. It’s a fact of life–again, prison politics. Anyone in authority (such as a cop) is in A block, because again, we know what happens to cops in prison. And gang members wanting to get out of politics have a chance to go to A block–and they can never go back.

We talked to one convict who was sentenced to 15 years. He was 19 when he went in. He would have gotten out next year . . . except that he was part of a prison incident that tacked an additional 7 years on his term. He has a daughter, 13, who he has only seen in pictures. He was raised by a single mother on welfare, no dad in the picture, in an impoverished area where the only options he saw was joining a gang. (And many times, in heavy gang areas kids don’t have any real options.) He wanted out of the hardcore yard after he got the seven years and petitioned for A block. As part of the process, a prisoner has to talk–tell everything he knows about how prisoners communicate, everything he was involved in that the guards didn’t catch, tell them in a specific prisoner is in danger, or a guard is in danger, or rumors they hear. They have to answer everything.

“A” block doesn’t have the freedom of the minimum security inmates, but they have far more than B and C blocks. A block has evening time, where the cells are opened and the prisoners can go to the central area and watch TV, play an instrument, walk around, whatever. A block was clean, and our guide said the prisoners are responsible for keeping the prison areas clean–and A block prisoners do it. B and C blocks? Not so clean. (Though, apparently, Rhonda said that the single most disgusting, filthy cell block she’d ever worked in–only for a day–was women. Another guard said she’d never work in a women’s facility, that they are worse than male prisoners.)

Rhonda also told us she enjoyed taking us through because we were serious and smart–we “got it.” I didn’t understand what she meant, until she told the story that the week before she was taking a group of college students through the prison and in the minimum security facility the girls were flirting with the prisoners. Hello, girls, these are guys who have been in prison for up to five years, and you’re flaunting your wares? I would love to pick Rhonda’s brain over drinks some day, because she must have many more stories. Like the woman who flew all the way from Germany to meet with a prisoner she’d been pen pals with. When they got too up-close-and-personal, she was removed, and sued because the prison denied her the visit (fortunately, all visits are recorded so the judge sided with the prison’s decision.)

Fellow author, New York Times bestseller James Rollins, was also on the tour with me. He said he was surprised by how quiet it was. Part of the quiet was because B/C blocks were in lockdown and going through TB testing. But part was because of the location. It was serene, surrounding by oaks and rollings hills. There were geese and wild turkeys all over the yards, and in fact one wild turkey flew in front of my car as I was leaving (I didn’t know turkeys could fly!)

I think I was most surprised by the daily processes. How much needs to happen to keep the prison running as smoothly and safely as possible.

Maybe it would benefit some teens to get a tour of the prison. To see where they could be if they don’t get their act together. I wouldn’t want to go to prison–minimum or maximum security. Lack of freedom, living so close to so many violent criminals, losing hope . . .

I watched a CSI years ago where Katherine’s daughter Lindsay, then about 13, snuck out of the house while Katherine was at work. Katherine found out when her housekeeper (mother? don’t remember) called, and was looking for Lindsay when there was a call of a young teenager dead. Katherine panicked, thinking it was her daughter, relieved that it wasn’t . . . but when she found Lindsay, she was furious (and justifiably so, IMO.) Lindsay had dressed “up” with loads of make-up and clothes that looked like she was a hooker. Katherine took her to the morgue to show her the girl that was dead–saying something like, “If you continue down this path, this is where you’ll end up.” Lindsay ran out, crying. The coroner was angry with Katherine, but I was thinking, HELLO! Daughter is going down dangerous path, two weeks being grounded isn’t going to work. Sometimes, we need to scare our kids straight. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t.

Whoops, how did that picture get in there?

©2010 Murder She Writes. All Rights Reserved.

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My first Lucy Kincaid book will be released in October of 2010 and I turned in the proposal three weeks ago. Lucy Kincaid is a character from my NO EVIL series. In FEAR NO EVIL, she was kidnapped before her high school graduation by a man she met on the Internet. She’d met him through a group she believed was only Georgetown students and prospective students as she prepared for college, thinking he was a freshman. He gave her a false name and false picture. She gave him a real name and real picture. Hence, he had no problem snatching her in the parking lot of Starbucks because he knew exactly what she looked like–and she had no idea who he was.

Lucy is one of my all-time favorite characters, and as soon as I finished writing FEAR NO EVIL I knew that I would someday write her story. Not only did I want to write her story, but I had many story ideas for her. When I came up for contract this Spring, I wrote a proposal for a Rogan-Caruso trilogy. Rogan-Caruso Protective Services was introduced in PLAYING DEAD as the employer of my heroine. I thought my publisher wanted another trilogy. They didn’t. I was kind of stunned–but they asked what else I had. The only other thing I wanted to write–in fact, the series that I preferred to write, but didn’t think they’d go for it–was Lucy Kincaid. They wanted it.

I was thrilled. I’m aging Lucy for the series–if I followed real time, she’d be twenty-one. In Book One, tentative titled NO WAY OUT, she’ll be twenty-four. Still younger than most heroines, but since this is a series, this gives me room to grow her. She’ll age in real-time, or close to it, after that and if the series is successful, I’ll probably limit it anyway. I love series, but like television, I think some should have ended at a peak before they crashed and burned. X-Files anyone?

But for Lucy, I have several story ideas. Patrick Kincaid, her brother who was injured and in a coma at the end of FEAR NO EVIL, woke up after twenty-two months in SUDDEN DEATH. I probably shouldn’t have used real time for his coma–twenty-two months is an unusually long time to recover from a coma!–but Jack needed the time for his internal journey. Anyway, I adore Patrick. And my mom threatened to disown me if I killed him, so he’s alive and breathing. I have story ideas for him, too–yes, IDEAS. I would love to alternate books between Lucy and Patrick, ala how Tess Gerritsen handles Maura Isles and Jane Rizzoli. They are both in every book, but usually one is more important to the story than the other. I love that, and that’s how I picture Lucy and Patrick.

In NO WAY OUT, Lucy is waiting to hear if she was accepted into the FBI Academy. She’s living in Georgetown with her older brother, Dillon, who is quietly over-protective, and Dillon’s girlfriend (possibly wife–I haven’t quite thought all this through yet!) Kate Donovan. She’s working somewhere–not sure where yet, either at a police department or lab–while she waits. The wait can last twelve months to two years. It’s long and stressful. Once you’re accepted, you’re given a report-to date for Quantico. It can be months away–but you’re still a hired employee. At that point, you work at headquarters but aren’t yet an agent.

When I was in Washington last week with the FBI Citizens Academy, our last tour was of NCMEC–the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, co-founded by John Walsh. Though I was familiar with the organization, I didn’t know exactly what they did. Five stories in a building in beautiful downtown Alexandria, Virginia dedicated to solving hundreds of thousands of cases of child exploitation. Honestly, I left depressed. Every day their staff goes in and tracks missing kids. They view child pornography hoping to identify the child or the location. Hoping to pick up clues as to who the predator is. They have a forensic anthropologist on staff who helps identify skeletons. They have computer experts who age photos to show us what a kidnapped or endangered child might look like today. They have many success stories, but far more tragedies.

They also collect a mass of data on missing children and predators. They work with all states and many international agencies to help track sex offenders who are supposed to register. They can go into public databases, they maintain their own database, and they can cross-reference information. There are many law enforcement on staff from many federal agencies including the FBI and ICE who are assigned to NCMEC. They are the case managers–they have the experience as well as arrest powers.

I couldn’t possibly detail everything NCMEC does to help protect children, from proactive measures like parent education to investigating crimes, but it is a difficult job for anyone there. In addition to law enforcement, they have case analysts and many others who work tirelessly. Some analysts spend most of their time analyzing photos for example–photos or videos that are of child pornography. They do it to find a clue–like the success story where they enhanced a photo well enough to detect a diploma on the wall. They couldn’t read the name because it wasn’t complete, but they were able to figure out what college it came from and eventually, though an extensive process, learned that the photo was taken in the office of an elementary school principal. He was arrested.

I went on the trip to Washington with my FBI group primarily to tour Quantico for my Lucy books–and that was terrific. NCMEC was added long after I signed up. It affected me far more than any other portion of the trip. But I don’t believe in ignorance. Too many of us don’t want to look at the truth and ignoring it won’t make it go away. While finding out more about NCMEC was difficult, not only am I immensely proud of them, I’m also better informed. If everyone understood the real dangers out there–and some of the activities that lead to the dangers both for victims and predators–maybe we could slow, or decrease, the number of child sexual predators.

I began to think . . . what if someone with a long and decorated career just . . . snapped? Wanted to take matters into his own hands?

While I know the set-up of NO WAY OUT–and have since the spring of 2008 when I took the FBI Citizens Academy classes and one thing that some said sparked the whole idea–I didn’t understand motivations. Suddenly, everything was clear, like putting on new glasses.

Comment–say hi, talk about what you like and dislike about series characters or stories, ask questions about my trip, anything!–and three people will win a copy of FEAR NO EVIL where Lucy was first introduced. FEAR NO EVIL won the Daphne du Maurier award for Best Mainstream Mystery/Suspense.

©2010 Murder She Writes. All Rights Reserved.

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It’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to do it.

That’s right: role play with SWAT.

Sure, I know, it’s a day away from writing, a day away from the kids, a day away from email, but somebody has to make the sacrifice, and because I wouldn’t want to force this on anyone else, I stepped up to the plate.

I volunteered to be a victim. Yes this is my foot.

Ouch

This was my second role playing adventure. About five weeks ago, I participated in a tactical training as a “bad guy”–or, more accurately, as the white trash wife of a drunk pedophile who was harboring his cousin the pimp and the pimp’s underage girlfriend in the house. I learned a lot from the day–and even picked up the term “Mental Muscle” from my new pal in the Air Force, Tyler, who played “Billy” the pimp. It’s a phrase I’ve already used in ORIGINAL SIN, I loved it that much. (Basically, you practice and drill and run exercises until you can do it right the first time, on “instinct” and without hesitation.)

Yesterday’s drill was far more extensive than my first time. And for me, as a writer, it was even more valuable than the first.

Descending upon the former McClellan Air Force Base in Sacramento, California were seventeen SWAT teams from local law enforcement in Northern California. Run by the FBI and supervised by FBI SWAT Leader (and all around great guy) Brian Jones and run by the joint task force. (I believe this because the SWAT officers supervising the drills were from both the FBI and other law enforcement. But however they did it, it was very well orchestrated.) The teams were there for extra training, and could pick four of eight realistic scenarios (such as a sniper, officer down, and my drill–a school shooting.)

Just to set the stage: there were 250 SWAT guys in 17 teams, plus about 30 running the drills and 20 of us as “role players.” Role players come from interns in law enforcement, students in criminal justice classes, and people like me, graduates of the FBI citizens academy.

My scenario was a school shooting. I was a non-ambulatory but stable victim. Others had more serious injuries, or less serious injuries. The purpose of the drill was to put SWAT in a real-life, real-time situation (without real ammunition–they use paint pellets, but they hurt I’ve been told!) in order to train with “real” victims. One trainer said that role players are invaluable because when they run situations like this with just a shooter, once the shooter is down, they’re done. In real life, there is far more going on–clearing the scene, triage, civilian panic, etc. So the drill was two part–secure the scene, then deal with the victims until EMT arrives. SWAT is not extensively trained in triage, though many SWAT members are former military or have some basic medic experience. But handling a downed soldier is far different than a panicked civilian.

We were staged at various positions throughout the “school.” There were serious (abdomen) injuries and less serious injuries. And my pal Larry had a small “boo-boo” on his face that he declared loudly and often was bleeding and he needed medical attention now. I was placed in a doorway where I had a visual of a girl being “gunned down” as SWAT rounded the corner. I was told to scream until I was hoarse, and that if anyone touched my injured leg I was to scream in pain. Only two SWAT teams of the six actually touched the wound (and yes, I did scream in “pain.”)

As a side note, every SWAT team is a bit different in how they approach the scene and, for my purposes, how they handled triage. Two teams actually bandaged my GSW in the field with gauze and tape. One put a tourniquet around my thigh, but didn’t touch the wound itself (so I didn’t scream at him.) Two teams had me put pressure on my wound with my hand. One got me up quickly and into a staging room within the “school” (as opposed to the medic staging area outside the “school”) and had me sit until everyone with more serious injuries were dealt with. Of the six teams, two secured a room for victims, and four took the victims from the scene starting with ambulatory, then moving to non-ambulatory–most serious injuries first.

Triage after area is secure

Okay, another aside–hands down, if you’re ever held hostage in Northern California, you want Citrus Heights SWAT to be in charge of your rescue. Though I was the last victim to be removed from the scene, it was the smartest move (in my opinion) because I had a non-lethal injury. They were fast, they knew what they were doing, and they WERE IN CHARGE. They did not hesitate, they lit the shooter up, they quickly cleared the rooms (ALL the rooms) and assessed injuries without debate. Kudos to them! (All the teams did well, but this one just stood out head and shoulders above the rest. The last team that did the drill was above average as well, but I don’t remember who they were. It was late.)

How does playing these games help me as a writer? I know it’s not real, so while I’m excited and have a shot of adrenaline when gunfire ensues, it’s hard for me to know exactly how I would react in a real situation because my mind knows it’s not real. The only hint of what I’d really do (if I wasn’t given a verbal “script” to follow) would be to hide. When the first gunshot rang out, my instant reaction was to crawl into the room I was blocking and curl up in the corner. Make yourself a small target. But then I thought, what if someone I loved was injured? I think back to my oldest daughter’s surgery when she was two and I realize I would probably do what I did then–be a big girl, calm, collected, in charge, and then when I knew she was okay, break down in tears.

But the point is, everyone reacts different to the stimulus–not only the victims (some compliant, some panicked; minor injuries and major injuries)–but the SWAT teams. As a writer, the most valuable part of the exercise was not the scenario itself (though that was the most fun and the most exciting!) but the walk-through. After the drill, the trainers walk through with the team and ask them what they were thinking, why they did this or that, how they decided which formation or tactic to use, etc. As a role-player, I got to listen in to the conversations and heard first hand what they were thinking and why they did what they did. What’s running through their mind has me thinking what runs through the minds of my characters when placed in hostile or dangerous situations. These are trained cops–they are not idiots. They know what they’re doing. But sometimes they hesitate because of things we might not think about.

Such as liability. Two of the teams mentioned liability as a point of hesitation in firing upon the shooter. Because if he survives, he may sue. And if he doesn’t survive, his next of kin may sue.

I really had to think about that. I asked about it, and one true story that emerged related to an EMT unit. They were sued because they didn’t tend to a severely injured suspect during a shooting–where the scene was still hot–and instead tended to a downed officer. The suspect died and the next of kin sued saying the EMT should have treated them on scene. Fortunately, the case was dismissed because the code says that if a suspect has not been searched and cuffed, EMT are not required to give medical attention. And because the scene was hot (meaning there were still bad guys out there) there was no way for law enforcement to get to the suspect, search and secure him, and get him to the EMT in a safe zone. Considering that a bad guy might have a gun, might take a hostage, and was seen shooting a cop . . . well, the rule makes sense.

There are a lot of gray areas. Do you shoot a guy who’s holding a gun to his head? Do you leave the wounded in order to secure a scene? When do you shoot and when do you hesitate? SWAT is trained extensively on knowing how to identify the bad guys, but today one civilian was shot (grazed) because he pulled out his cell phone as SWAT came through the main doors.

We all know cops who are assholes. Who wear authority like a right to be worshipped. Some should be forced to resign because they give the majority of good cops a bad name. But watching them in action you realize that the choices they face on a daily basis might give them the right to a little bravado. They face life and death choices every day. In traffic stops that far too often go bad. In school shootings where they are facing victims and shooters who could be the same age as their own children. In robberies, car jackings, break-ins, kidnappings, rapes and murders. They’re the ones who tell a mother her son was killed; they’re the ones who step into a hostile domestic violence situation to try to diffuse it; they’re the ones who usually are first on scene at an accident or murder. They are not only responsible to keep themselves alive, but their partner. Not just their partner, but other cops. Not just other cops, but innocent by-standers. The rights of criminals are–rightfully–protected by our Constitution. But cops deserve the same rights and consideration as the bad guys. And, frankly, a little bit more. They’re putting themselves on the front lines to protect people like us, to protect our rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. And in doing that, many are shot, killed, disabled. So I’ve cut them a little slack when I see the attitude, because honestly? They deserve it.

Next up, I’m going to Quantico in September. I could tell you it’s research for the Lucy Kincaid series (which it is) but I had the trip planned before I sold the series, so it’s also because I think it’s going to be a blast. I can hardly wait!

Now, to be perfectly selfish . . . CUTTING EDGE went on sale this week. This is the third book in my FBI Trilogy and the spark of the idea came from the domestic terrorism presentation during the FBI Citizens Academy. A special agent discussed a case he worked where there was an FBI informant in a domestic terrorist cell (eco-terrorism) and his respect and admiration for the informant really hit me. It got me wondering why would someone become an informant? Who are they? What do they grow up to do? Who do they become? How does it affect them . . . not just being an informant, but betraying people they know and care about? What, if any, life-long repercussions are there? And asking myself those questions, I came up with Special Agent Nora English.

©2010 Murder She Writes. All Rights Reserved.

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My oldest daughter wants a MySpace page. The first time she wanted one, she was 12 and she did it on her own, then because she’s a basically good kid and a good Catholic, her guilt festered and less than 24 hours later, she told me. I praised her for her honesty, didn’t punish her (as I would have done if I discovered the page on my own), and promptly deleted her account.

Now she’s almost 14 and she just learned I joined the ranks of MySpace. She doesn’t think it’s fair. She pointed out all the safety measures, that she could friend me and I’ll know exactly what she’s doing and saying. I told her no. My MySpace page is all about business: if I weren’t a published author, I wouldn’t get an account. I reminded her that she talks to her friends every day on the phone, she has IM (on a central, family computer) and she has email.

Maybe I’m not being fair. Maybe she’ll go and get one on her own again, just be sneakier than she was the last time. I still think the guilt will eat at her and she’ll come clean, as she’s done time and again when she knows she’s done something wrong. The big problem is: what if she doesn’t think something she’s doing or saying is wrong? What if it’s relatively innocuous, but I, as someone older and wiser and with a lot more knowledge about the dangers of the Internet, can see that that seemingly innocent behavior can do if left unchecked?

I’m pretty blunt with my kids about crime. SPEAK NO EVIL was loosely based on a true life case where the victim met her killer on her personal blog. In FEAR NO EVIL, I took a compilation of girls meeting people in person who they first met online, highlighting the fact that you really DON’T know who you are talking to in cyberspace.

If I could sit down and monitor their Internet activity 24/7 on a computer in the bedroom so make sure that nothing they say or do gives away their identity or location, then maybe . . . maybe . . . I’d let them spread their wings in cyberspace. But it’s not just people knowing who they are. It’s strangers talking to them because we do not know who those people are. They could be normal kids. They could be fifty-year-old sex offenders. WE DON’T KNOW.

There’s no reason for a kid to have a MySpace page. Maybe I’m being overly strict (though people who know me know that I’m pretty easy-going about parenting), but this is one of the few areas I have drawn the line.

I don’t talk about my kids online. I call them generically by their rank: Brennan #1, Brennan #4, etc. I don’t need to tell anyone their names or where they go to school or post their adorable pictures online.

But for the first time this week, I realized that simply by the virtue of who I am, people can figure out who they are.

I received a disturbing email. The subject line was “Your Daughter.” It had come through the form on my website. The gentleman said, “Do you have a daughter named XXXX who goes to XXXXX?”

He signed it with his first name. I had no idea who he was. I almost just deleted it, but instead responded something like, “Do I know you? You didn’t sign your name.”

He replied with his full name and he is someone I’ve been “talking” to online for over a year. He seems normal and legitimate. He lives locally and is trying to get published. He’s a nice guy. Online. But for the first time I realized that people may not be who they say they are even when they’re talking to me. He gave me his daughter’s name and I asked my daughter if she knew the girl. She did.

But as my husband points out, the guy could have a friend with a daughter at the same school and using that important to learn more about my daughter.

I’m pretty comfortable that this guy isn’t after my daughter, but I’m still not talking about her with people.

Still, for the first time I realized that no matter how safe I am with my kid’s activities online, their identity still may not be protected simply because I am becoming known. There’s been a couple local articles written about me, I speak all the time, and Allison Brennan is, in fact, my real name.

I’m not a celebrity, but I’m becoming a public figure, at least locally. And while I’ll do everything I can to protect my kids, I just realized it’s gotten a little harder than I had imagined.

My household rules for Internet use:

1) Family computer is in a central location.
2) No MySpace or similar accounts.
3) Mom and dad know all email passwords
4) Any kid sites where there is posting allowed must be approved by mom or dad. (There are a couple which are fully moderated.)
5) No kid is allowed to clear the history (this included IMs.)
6) I check the history periodically to make sure they are playing by the rules.
7) Parental safety is set to “moderate.” (if you set it to strict, a lot of religious and political sites are restricted. When they’re doing research for papers or just want to do a comparison on candidates which I strongly encourage, or learning about an issue, they’re getting the most watered down sites.)
The kids know the rules (ad nauseum) about giving out personal information online.

As they get older, I’ll loosen up a bit. The internet is a crucial part of life now. But my oldest is not quite 14. She doesn’t need full access to cyberspace. She’s not missing out on anything.

So be safe out there.

If you haven’t seen my new book trailer for KILLING FEAR, it’s live here: allisonbrennan.com

If you don’t know about our contest, check out the rules and the great prizes here!

Do you know anyone who was solicited online? Anyone who had a bad experience? Do you know anyone who has met their better half online and lived happily ever after?

(BTW, the Internet can be a truly wonderful place–if you know what you’re doing and are careful. I know people who have met online and gone on to be best friends–and some even got married. I just don’t think it’s a place for kids.)

©2010 Murder She Writes. All Rights Reserved.

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Corrections Officer Stephen Anderson was just doing his job, escorting a prisoner to have an MRI done at the University of Utah, on Monday, June 25, when he was shot and killed by white supremacist Curtis Allgier.

Anderson was a father and grandfather, active in his church and community, and he was, as I said before, JUST DOING HIS JOB. Unfortunately, his job is one of the hardest ones out there.

Allgier, after the murder, short-lived escape, and recapture, has talked extensively to the media.

He claims he did not ever intend to kill Stephen Anderson. I disagree.

“I just got recently sentenced to 104 months with the Feds and I lost everything I had. I lost all my people pretty much. My dad’s dying, my lady’s just gone. I lost everything and so when the MRI was done, I went back in the room, I put my jumpsuit back on, and I told him, I said, ‘Look, I’m going out that door and you’re not going to stop me. So just let me walk out the door. Call the cops when you’re done, do what you gotta do, but just let me walk out that door.’ And instead, he just rushed me. When he rushed me, he grabbed me, and he had one hand on my ****, and the other hand was wrapped around me. And I’m like, ‘Dude, let go. Let me go out the door.’ And I wasn’t trying to hit him; I wasn’t trying to hurt him. He just kept going.

“So finally, we start fighting and he grabbed his gun and starts swinging his gun around. And I put my shoulder into him so it would drop and it fell to the ground. And then he kept trying to fight, and I’m like dude just let me go and he wouldn’t let me go. So I grabbed the gun, and I’m like, ‘Look, now I’ve got your gun, and I’m going out that door. Let me go, and call who you gotta to call when you’re done.’ And he wouldn’t let go and he wouldn’t let go, so I started going to the door. When I reached for the door handle, I had one hand on the handle and he would not let me go. So I hit him with the gun and it went off. He dropped, I ran out of the room.”

When Anderson told everyone, via his explanation, that he was “going out that door” and that nothing would have stopped him, he admitted that his intent was to escape at all costs. The cost ended up being the life of Stephen Anderson.

I do not know how this will play out in court, but in my mind, Allgier had every intention of killing anyone who stood in his way, and he certainly didn’t expect a trained corrections officer, who carried a gun to GUARD his prisoner, to just LET HIM WALK OUT, did he? The way Allgier tells the story, that is exactly what he DID expect.

One interview I listened to had him saying “I told him, you make $15 an hour, it’s not worth fighting me.”

Allgier, a heavily tattooed white supremacist, is hard to look at, and in my opinion, just as hard to listen to. He claims his reason for talking so extensively to the media is to assure that people don’t think he planned to kill Stephen Anderson, but I believe this is negated by the fact he admits he was going to escape NO MATTER WHAT IT TOOK.

I don’t know if his reasoning for the media barrage is an attempt to avoid the death penalty, and I’m no lawyer, but I think it backfired.

How about the rest of you?

Note: My sympathies go out to the family of Stephen Anderson.

©2010 Murder She Writes. All Rights Reserved.

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The sad case of missing Ohio woman Jessie Davis, played out the way many of the regulars here at MSWs thought it would. Her body was found about 25 miles from her home, in a remote national park. It was in an advanced stage of decomposition, which means she was most likely killed in her home, possibly in front of her young son.

Arrested and held on a $5 million dollar bond is her boyfriend, Bobby Cutts, Jr., a police officer. Also arrested and charged with obstruction of justice is an old high school friend of Cutts’s, Myisha Ferrell.

Authorities are still holding back many of the details, but it ended like most of these cases do. The boyfriend appears to be the suspect (I’ll say allegedly), and the motive, as of yet, is unknown, but likely involved money (my guess, she wanted support for the new baby).

The baby who was found on a doorstep, about 40 miles from Davis’s home, turned out to be a coincidence. If one can call an abandoned newborn a coincidence.

And now, I am left to explore this. How can a man brutally and callously kill a woman? Even worse, how can he kill a woman knowing she is due to give birth to HIS CHILD. Any day. That baby could have survived outside the womb, which means that Cutts is also facing charges for murdering the baby, as Ohio law allows.

Even more, that WOMAN is the mother of one of his LIVING children. A child that is now motherless, and basically–if he is found guilty–parentless, all because of his actions.

Apparently, Cutts does have a record of domestic violence, although details of that are sketchy at this point.

So what do you think motivated Cutts? Why did he kill Davis? Why did he callously disregard the lives of his own children?

©2010 Murder She Writes. All Rights Reserved.

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A 26-year-old Ohio woman, Jessie Davis–who is nine months pregnant–vanished from her home sometime last week. The only “witness” was her two-year-old son, who told police “Mommy’s crying… Mommy’s in the rug.”

According to The Chicago Tribune:

NORTH CANTON, Ohio — A pregnant woman vanished from her home, leaving behind broken furniture, a pool of bleach on the floor and just one witness — a 2-year-old son who told police, “Mommy’s crying … Mommy’s in the rug.”

Investigators would not elaborate on the meaning of the child’s statement, but a bed comforter was missing from Jessie Davis’ home.

Authorities said Monday they had no suspects in the disappearance of Davis, 26, who is nine months pregnant.

Mysterious disappearances are the fodder of suspense writers. Although the police are saying there are no suspects, one’s mind automatically goes to the next step: who would want to hurt or kill this woman?

The father of the two-year-old, Canton police patrolman Bobby Cutts Jr., is also the father of her unborn child. And he is a married man.

Rick Perez, chief deputy at the Stark County Sheriff’s Department, would not comment on the relationship between Cutts and Davis. Perez said Cutts and his estranged wife are among those cooperating with investigators.

Cutts, 30, and his wife had at least one child together.

According to Jessie Davis’s mother, the boy’s father was due to drop the boy off to his mother on Thursday. The last time anyone spoke to Jessie was on Wednesday, when her mother talked to her on the phone.

Porter said that when she didn’t hear from her daughter Thursday, she went to Davis’ home near this northeast Ohio city and found her grandson, Blake, wearing a dirty diaper.

The mattress in Davis’ bedroom was partially off the bed, a night stand and lamp had been knocked over and bleach had been poured on the bedroom floor, Porter said.

Davis’ son later told detectives: “Mommy was crying. Mommy broke the table. Mommy’s in the rug.”

Items from Davis’ purse were scattered on the kitchen floor. Davis’ cell phone also is missing, investigators said.

When someone like Davis disappears, they often say they are missing “without a trace,” which is rarely if ever true. But the sad fact is, sometimes people DO just disappear, and are never seen again. Since Davis left behind a two-year-old child, her purse, and signs of a struggle, one can only assume she met with foul play.

It’s not really “without a trace.” There are traces, but where they will lead is the question. Where is Jessie Davis? Is she still alive? What about her baby?

What happens now?

UPDATE:

CANTON, Ohio (AP) — A newborn girl with her umbilical cord still attached was found in a basket on a doorstep 45 miles from where a pregnant woman vanished, authorities said Tuesday. A DNA sample was taken from the infant Tuesday and was given to authorities investigating the disappearance.

©2010 Murder She Writes. All Rights Reserved.

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Talk about figuring it all out.

Okay, so I’m in a mood this week, and after the chit chat on A’s blog yesterday and how it veered to culpability, I decided to look around the internet for some bizarre cases. Bingo! Found one, and right in my back yard.

So, have you ever heard of the ‘provocative act murder doctrine’? Me either but boiled down here it is:

“The doctrine says that someone who provokes another person to kill can be charged with murder.” Makes sense. I think. This doctrine “originated in 1965 and has been used mainly to convict gang members in Southern California — drive-by shootings are a classic application.” Okay, clearer now.

Defense attorney Angela Carter said, “It creates an unusual situation in which the defendant who did not actually kill anyone can receive the death penalty.”

So here is a snippet of a crime in which the prosecutor is using this theory.

From the San Francisco Chronicle:

“It’s very unreal,” said Judy Hughes, whose son, Renato Hughes Jr. — in an unusual invocation of a complex “vicarious murder” legal theory — is being accused of slaying his boyhood chums, Rashad Williams and Christian Foster. …
Williams, facing a three-year prison sentence for unarmed bank robberies in Danville and Lafayette last year, had been staying with his grandparents in Clearlake since April. On Dec. 7, just after midnight, Hughes and Foster arrived for a visit. ..

The preliminary hearing to determine whether Hughes will go on trial began Jan. 11 and will enter its sixth day today. Testimony has been contradictory and confusing.

According to prosecutor Jon Hopkins, the chief deputy District attorney in Lake County, at some point after 4 a.m., Hughes, Williams and Foster broke into the home where Edmonds was living with his young daughter, fiancee Lori Tyler, her son Dale Lafferty, and an unrelated teen, 16-year-old Justin Sutch. Hopkins maintains the three wanted to steal the medical marijuana used by the unemployed Edmonds, a former tractor mechanic, to combat depression. Police later seized at least 5 pounds from the house.

A free-for-all erupted, according to police, in which one intruder wrestled with Edmonds, one hit Tyler, and another bashed Lafferty with a bat. Edmonds grabbed his 9mm semiautomatic Browning and shot Williams twice in the back and Foster five times. It hasn’t been established whether the shooting began indoors or outside.
When police got there, Williams was lying in the middle of 11th Street, dead, and Foster was dying in bushes 20 yards away.

The Lake County district attorney hasn’t determined whether Edmonds has any criminal liability, but it has charged Mission High graduate Hughes, a 21-year-old clerk at a Trader Joe’s in San Francisco, with two counts of first-degree murder and one count each of attempted murder, robbery, assault with a deadly weapon.”…

It took me a minute to shake out all of the players in this crime gone awful, but I figured out who the provokees and who the provokers were. (Hey, it’s been a long week) So basically, this kid Hugh and his buddies decided to rob a house. And the homeowner, Edmonds, who obviously in fear for his life, and the lives of his family, had a problem with that, shot and killed two of them, and because he was ‘provoked’ to defend himself, his family, and his home, he is not the culpable one here, but the other robber, the one left standing is charged with two counts of first degree murder.

So, how does that sit with you?

(I know how it sits with me. And I’ll give you a leetle hint: you break into my house, threaten me and mine, I’ll shoot your ass where you’re standing.)

©2010 Murder She Writes. All Rights Reserved.

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You can’t yell “Fire!” in a crowded theater. You can’t talk about bombs in the middle of an airport. Some speech is prohibited because the end result can be fatal.

I am a staunch supporter of the First Amendment. I abide by Voltaire’s statement, “I may not agree with what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.” In my former life as a legislative consultant, this came in handy. I was a good listener. I didn’t have to be convinced that someone was right or I was right or they were wrong (I, of course, am never wrong) but in the end, our country was founded on the right to speak your mind.

But I’ve found something I can not abide, something that I can not believe is legal, and for the first time, I want to end an individual’s right to free speech because of a huge potential threat. I have a high tolerance for idiocy (I DID work in California State government), but this guy surpassed even my threshold.

Two weeks ago I was in Washington and while my pal Toni Hingleton and I sat in traffic behind a burning car (I kid you not), we were listening to the news. Apparently, an admitted pedophile got his website back up and running by using an out of country ISP–after he was shut down with a U.S.

What would a pedophile be doing with a website, you might hesitate to ask?

Putting up pictures of little girls (which he calls LGs). Posting information about public places where other pedophiles can watch and photograph little girls without being suspected of being the effing perverts that they are.

I am not making this up.

Over at Crime Scene Blog, a great place to waste oodles of time researching (guilty), I found an update on Jack McClellan, the pervert who started the Seattle-Tacoma-Everett Girl Love website. Gee, he’s taken down some of the pictures and he only links to other pictures, but he’s still telling his fellow perverts where to find little girls.

From the above blog:

Jack McClellan, who hosted the “Seattle Tacoma Everett Girl Love” site which was taken down earlier this year, is back again. He is an admitted pedophile who told reporters that he feels he is doing nothing illegal and that he gets “a kind of a high” from being around young girls.

The same blog also took content from the original website (which is no longer up) to show exactly what this pervert is up to:

This was my third visit to this roller rink, and like the previous two, it didn’t disappoint. There wasn’t much of a crowd when I arrived, but it picked up over the next hour or so and the place got quite lively. There were a few LGs that I rated above-average on the 1-10 cuteness scale, but my favorite (a girl I’ve seen here before) came with her father, so I didn’t get a chance to flirt with her. Another thing I noticed here tonight was more men like myself (in their mid-20s or older) who didn’t seem to be associated with anyone, and like me, were just circling the rink with a grin on their face (GL’ers or undercover cops?). The skate session closed at 10, and I left exhausted with sore feet. But the LG sightings of this marathon day weren’t over yet: I later saw two more running around the Mount Vernon Safeway.

The fact is that pedophiles are sick. They are not satisfied with watching little girls. They will attempt to make contact. When the watching and flirting and bumping into kids isn’t enough, they will take it to the next step. They will molest one of these girls.

Sexual abuse destroys lives. Sexual abuse can kill. This is not a harmless website where normal “men” are talking about attractive women. They are talking about being sexually attracted and turned on by pre-pubescent girls.

Crime Library reported on the original website when it was shut down:

The purpose of the web site is to promote consensual hugging and cuddling between men and girls who are aged 3 to 11 and bring pedophiles out of the closet, McClellan told Fox News.

“I guess the main thing is I just think they’re cute, a lot cuter than women,” he said. “I admit there is kind of an erotic arousal there. It makes me happy simply.

Freedom of speech? I think not.

Even if McClellan never rapes a child, what about the hundreds–thousands–of pedophiles who visit his site and use his information? Will McClellan be tried and convicted of aiding and abetting?

The laws must change to catch up with the times. We may not be able to take the website off the Internet, but we can damn well put the sicko responsible for it in jail.

©2010 Murder She Writes. All Rights Reserved.

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