If I Can't Have You: Susan Powell, Her Mysterious Disappearance, and the Murder of Her Children (27 page)

It was about winning and controlling.

For the umpteenth time as he sat with Steve and Terri’s divorce documents in the office that he’d made of Susan’s old bedroom, Chuck wondered what he might have missed. It was like skimming through a bad movie, the kind in which the woman has no idea that she’s sleeping with the enemy … until it is almost too late. Terri wasn’t merely trying to get a divorce; she was looking for an escape. It was as though Steve was the leader of a gang—or a cult—and she needed to figure a way out.

The cult even had a name for itself. It was “The Family,” as if they were the mafia or something. Not “our” family, but “the” family. They didn’t break ranks. Ever. They were like members of a religion sharing the same twisted beliefs.

Chuck looked down at the documents and read a line that Terri had written in what must have been a moment of clarity:

It seems like there is a sickness pervading the family and I have been powerless to stop it.

Chuck knew that the sickness had moved on to the next generation and that Susan, Charlie, and Braden had been caught up in it.

39

“The Mormons killed my brother and my mom.”

“I am going to come to your house at night and kill you. I hate Mormons.”

—CHARLIE POWELL, FIRST-GRADE STUDENT, FALL 2011

It was mournful and came in waves. What was that sound? Was it a wounded animal?

Without disturbing Judy, Chuck slipped out of bed, put on a robe, and went in search of the source of the strange noise. The home where the Coxes had raised their daughters was at the end of a street near some wooded land that was home to forest animals. Maybe a deer had been hit by a car and had somehow wandered near the vacant land?

Yet it didn’t sound quite like a hurt animal. The cries were a strange, almost otherworldly mixture of sobbing and moaning.

Chuck quietly padded down the hall to the boys’ bedroom following the sound, which was unlike anything he’d ever heard in his life.

Without turning on the light, he could pinpoint the sound. It was Charlie in his bunk bed. The little boy was neither awake nor asleep but trapped in some terrible nightmare. Chuck went to him, and put his hand gently on his shoulder

“What hurts, Charlie?”

More moaning.

Chuck was worried. He was unsure if he should wake him. The boy was clearly in distress, but he wasn’t fully awake or asleep.

He leaned a little closer. “Is it your tummy?” he asked.

Charlie stirred and Chuck took the response to mean no.

“No? Your leg? Let’s stretch it out,” he said. “It probably went to sleep on you.”

The boys didn’t often say what they were thinking, but this time Charlie did between his sobs.

“Mommy,” he said.

As heartbreaking as that moment was, Chuck felt a kind of relief. With all that Josh and Steve had done to poison the boys’ memories of their mother, they couldn’t fully erase their love for her.

“You’re thinking about Mommy?” he asked.

Charlie looked up at his grandfather. Tears streaked his cheeks. “Yes,” he said.

Chuck patted the boy some more. “I am, too.”

Susan’s father stayed by the bed, stroking Charlie’s head and back, feeling the sadness surrounding the child who had seen too much.

The boy was thinking of his mommy, who went camping and stayed with the pretty crystals.

*   *   *

Even after their grandsons came to live with them, Chuck and Judy Cox still didn’t have any legal authority. As grandparents, they had no specific rights. The boys were really in the custody of the State of Washington.

The Washington State Department of Social and Health Services (DSHS) is, like similar agencies in other states, a large bureaucracy responsible for everything from the health and safety of children to services for the aging, mentally ill, and sick. In fiscal year 2010, DSHS served nearly 2.4 million people of all ages, about a third of the state’s population. Child Protective Services (CPS) is the division responsible for protecting children from abuse or neglect. After children have been brought to their attention, CPS assigns a social worker who monitors each family. A caseworker—the person who stays nearby during noncustodial parental visitations—is often a contract employee and not necessarily trained in social work.

CPS was involved in the Powell-Cox custody dispute from the beginning. Even before they went to arrest Steve, Pierce County detectives met with CPS staff and an assistant attorney general, and arranged for social worker Rocky Stephenson to meet them at the Powell house.

It was a complicated case, to be sure. What CPS had on its hands was a father, Josh, who was a “person of interest”—a euphemism to protect authorities from saying “suspect” before they’re prepared to make an arrest—in his wife’s disappearance.

Four days after Steve Powell’s arrest, Braden was taken for a “sexual abuse consultation” with a physician. The doctor wrote that Braden’s greatest fear was the dark. The boy had a rash—molluscum contagiosum—a common wartlike condition. The conclusion of the exam was that the possibility of sexual abuse could not be ruled out.

Next, CPS ordered routine physical exams for the boys. About two weeks after going to their maternal grandparents, Charlie and Braden were seen by a physician. Charlie told the doctor that he had seen little drops of blood on his genitals, but urinalysis showed no problems. The assessment was that he was a “healthy child.” His records indicated that he had been seen in September for a physical; at that time a doctor recommended counseling “given the multiple stressors in his life.” He had also been treated for a rash on his elbows and right leg.

Four months earlier, Charlie had been seen for “behavior problems” and “concentration issues.” A physician observed Charlie and described him this way:

… quite energetic and continuously running around in the exam room, jumping on the exam table, slamming on things, repeatedly making off with the stools, opening drawers and cabinet doors.

The doctor concluded that Charlie had hyperkinetic syndrome, a disorder characterized by excessive activity, emotional instability, and reduced attention span. The doctor wrote in Charlie’s records that Josh was trying to apply positive reinforcement discipline techniques and concluded that Charlie might have ADHD or another behavioral problem and if it continued, he should see a child psychiatrist. The rash was a mild fungal dermatosis.

When it was Braden’s turn for his physical, he didn’t cooperate. He wouldn’t sit still to have his blood pressure or his heart rate checked so it was deferred to a later time. Although the physician said that Braden was healthy, he found molluscum contagiosum lesions under the boy’s right arm. He was referred to a dermatologist.

Judy remembers that the doctor said something ominous about a venereal disease. Molluscum contagiosum is a viral infection that causes a rash and is most common in children ages one to twelve. It is considered a benign venereal disease. It is also a highly contagious STD that thrives when people live close together. Children can get molluscum contagiosum through direct skin-to-skin contact, but also by touching objects that have the virus on them, such as towels and bedding. It can also be transmitted via sexual contact and by physical contact that isn’t necessarily sexual.

Chuck and Judy informed the doctor that the boys had been sleeping nude with their father, also nude. The doctor shut them down. He said he did not want to get in the middle of a family feud over whether Braden had gotten the rash from his father or someone else in the Powell household. Besides, it would be difficult to prove, even if Josh had the same rash.

Not long after the boys went to live with the Coxes, Braden had two visits in one week to an emergency room. He scalded a foot when he stepped into a pot of hot water that a workman was using to set floor tile in the basement—part of a major addition Chuck and Judy had undertaken, in part to give the boys more room. And as an older cousin playfully swung Charlie around by his arms, Braden was knocked to the floor and hit his head. These were fluke accidents, but hospitals have reason to be suspicious, especially when there is an ongoing custody fight. Josh was notified.

The Powells accused the Coxes of “maiming” Braden, and suggested that it might have been done as punishment. It was proof, Josh said, that the Cox home was “not a safe place for children.” Josh’s Web site showed a gruesome photo of a burned foot—it wasn’t Braden’s, it was a picture that Josh, Alina, or Mike had found online.

Another part of the children’s assessment was conducted during a home visit with a social worker. Charlie was asked if there was anything he would like from “home” (Steve’s house) and he said that he missed their pet bird. “His eyes got a little teary when talking about Cryly,” the social worker wrote.

In order to determine how the boys coped with stress, they were asked if they had a “comfort item,” something they could hold or play with or snuggle with that made them feel a little better when they’re upset or sad. Neither boy had one. The report stated that Charlie’s coping technique was to pace while talking. Braden hid when feeling uncomfortable.

The Coxes didn’t have pets but the report noted that there were concerns that animals might not be safe around Braden.

Charlie’s assessment reported that he was inquisitive, and enjoyed catching bugs and being read to. He seemed to be interested in animals and had not been seen being mean to animals. But he didn’t like to share, didn’t understand other people’s feelings, blamed others for his troubles, did not listen to rules, teased others, and took things that did not belong to him.

There were some serious concerns about Braden, who was three months short of turning five at the time of his assessment. Chuck and Judy were concerned that Braden didn’t look at them when they addressed him, and that he had long periods of crying, screaming, or tantrums and liked to “destroy or damage things on purpose.” He also, according to the report, lacked a conscience and empathy for others. He tried to hurt children, adults, and animals. He also showed an interest or knowledge of sexual language and activity. He was clingy with strangers, and liked to be hugged—that is, when he wasn’t biting or hitting.

A member of the Gem and Rock Club, which Josh joined after moving back to Puyallup, wrote to the social worker that Charlie and Braden were brought along on trips that were not meant to include children. The boys often disrupted the club meetings, climbing on and under tables, running up and down stairs, standing in front of speakers, and stealing door prizes off of a raffle table. One even shone a flashlight in the eyes of a guest speaker. The member wrote: “Most of the time Josh just sits with a strange grin on his face and does nothing.” The concerned club member also observed Josh dragging one or both boys by the wrist across a room.

It was Braden who was the uncontrollable and impulsive one. The woman wrote:

Braden has bitten a club member on the bottom. He has head butted someone calling an auction. This boy was also left to scream and cry non-stop, during a class, in a corner for more than an hour. When the instructor asked Josh to do something about his son’s crying, Josh’s reaction was to say that “sometimes you just need to let them cry and wear themselves out.”

When told by his social worker about the complaint from the gem club, Josh said the members were “crotchety.”

Braden even sucker-punched a woman he came to love, Elizabeth Griffin-Hall, Ph.D., a veteran employee of the Foster Care Resource Network (FCRN), who supervised their visits with Josh.

One day when she had driven them back to the Coxes, Braden refused to get out of his car seat. She said:

After several refusals I leaned over him to unlatch the buckle. He hit me in the mouth with his fist. I asked Grandpa to help Braden out of the car.

*   *   *

“Chuck Cox is a bad person,” Charlie suddenly said one day in the car.

Chuck looked at his grandson. “What do you mean, ‘Chuck Cox is a bad person’?”

Charlie blinked his deep blue eyes. “Chuck Cox is evil.”

Chuck looked at his grandson, not sure where this was going. Or if Charlie understood just what it was that he was saying.

“
I’m
Chuck Cox,” he said. “Am
I
a bad person?”

The little boy thought for a moment. “Why don’t you change your name? Then you won’t be Chuck Cox, because he is a bad person,” he said.

Without blaming Josh, Chuck found a way of explaining to his grandson that not everything he heard was true.

Chuck and Judy heard other bits of what they called the “garbage” that Josh or Steve or both had filled the boy’s heads with. The boys said things like “Don’t mess with Josh or you’ll end up dead,” and that their mommy had run away because she was abused by Mormons. Occasionally the boys would voice their own take on things.

“My daddy is a little bit bad,” Charlie said.

Chuck kept his mouth shut on that one. There was no argument coming from him.

At school, Charlie was telling other children how he hated Mormons and that they were responsible for killing his mother … and his brother, Braden. One time the little boy unflinchingly told an adult staff member at the school how to bury an animal and cover it up so it would never be found.

*   *   *

The Coxes couldn’t talk to the media during the temporary custody phase, so they avoided places where reporters might show up. That included vigils and celebrations of Susan’s birthday.

On Susan’s thirtieth birthday, October 16, 2011, when hundreds of purple balloons were released at observances in West Valley City and in Puyallup, Chuck and Judy instead released balloons with Charlie and Braden in their front yard.

The two grandparents and the two small boys watched the purple balloons rise into the sky until they were gone from sight.

40

After interviewing Mr. Powell and observing him interact with his two sons, there is nothing to suggest Mr. Powell does not have the intellect, skill, or practice to safely and adequately parent his two sons.