Killer Dads (23 page)

Figure 11.3. Braden horses around with grandpop Charles Cox as Charlie smiles at the piano in the living room of their grandparents' Washington home in Puyallup.
Courtesy of Charles and Judy Cox.

As for Josh, a psychologist noted that he “cannot stay on topic, has rapid speech,” and veers into “verbal rants about the Cox family.” He also described his wife as troubled and suicidal, and he mentioned that after Susan visited a therapist several times, he agreed to a few months of marital counseling. Despite the concerns, however, the assessment determined that Josh had “excellent parenting skills.” He was observed on one occasion
making quesadillas and brownies for the boys in his dad's home. He was upbeat while also being “very organized and very much in control,” though he sometimes used a “loud, raised, hardened tone,” noted the evaluation. But he was clearly at ease cooking and taking care of the boys, and they were relaxed with him, according to the report. He was able to “redirect” misbehavior and diffuse conflict between the boys, encouraged them to share, and praised them when they did something that pleased him. “He appeared to be practiced and fairly patient,” though the report also warned that the interactions could have been “staged.” He was also observed playing with helicopter toys with his sons in a new, “sparsely furnished” three-bedroom house he had rented so he could win back custody of his boys since he was no longer living with his father. The report concluded that while Josh seemed to be a good parent, and there was no indication or history of abuse, he did speak inappropriately in front of the children about his perceived persecution at the hands of his in-laws. The evaluator was also concerned about the “potential for future conflict between father and sons when they become more independent thinkers. If Mr. Powell maintains his present parenting style, this may lead to strong disagreements and alienation about things contrary to Mr. Powell's wishes, as they have with some of this family members.” The report nevertheless supported continued supervised visits by Josh with his boys until the courts made some final determination.

At his next court hearing concerning custody, Josh, his voice breaking, described himself as an excellent parent who provided a stable, loving home for his children. “I had no knowledge of any wrongdoing or any indication that there could be wrongdoing on my father's part, nor did anyone else in our house,” he said. But while Josh was optimistic that his sons would be back with him soon because he had his own home, his hopes were dashed by the judge's ruling ordering Josh to undergo detailed, diagnostic psychosexual tests, which would have included a polygraph test, and might have involved use of a penile plethysmograph, which is attached to a subject's penis to measure response to certain images to ascertain if Josh was aroused by children or by images of incest. The supervised visits would continue, and the boys would remain in their grandparents' custody.

The Coxes could have been relieved by the ruling, but they weren't. They
were more frightened than ever. Chuck and Judy were stunned Josh would continue to have supervised visits with the boys at his home. They wanted the visits held at a neutral third location or at social-services offices where there would be more control. “We kept warning social workers that there was no telling what Josh might do when he felt cornered,” said Chuck Cox. “We were afraid he'd kill himself and take the boys with him out of spite.”

The final chapter of Susan and Josh Powell's small family was written in fire February 5, 2012, just days after Josh's custody hearing. The boys were reluctant to leave their grandparents' home to visit their dad that day, but the Coxes had little choice; it was a court order that Josh be granted visitation. Judy Cox recalls with tears in her eyes how she talked her grandsons into the trip. “You'll have fun,” which they usually did, she told them, and “you'll be back here soon.”

Child Protective Services worker Elizabeth Griffin-Hall drove the boys from the Coxes' home to Josh's home, as she usually did. She was fond of the brothers, and found them charming and funny. She parked her Prius and was walking the boys up the front walkway when an excited Josh opened the door and shouted, “Charlie! Braden! I've got a surprise for you!” The boys broke away from Griffin-Hall and ran inside, and Josh slammed and locked the door with a sheepish look of apology in his eyes, she would later tell police. Griffin-Hall quickly backed away from the house as she was struck by a strong smell of gasoline, and she nervously called 911.

 

Griffin-Hall: I'm on a supervised visitation for a court-ordered visit and something really weird has happened. The kids went in the house and the biological parent, Josh Powell, will not let me in the door. What should I do?

Dispatcher: What's the address?

Griffin-Hall: I don't know . . . let me get in the car. Nothing like this has happened before. I'm shocked, and I could hear one of the kids crying, and he still won't let me in. He's on a very short leash with social services. He looked right at me and closed the door. It's 8119 189th Street East Puyallup. I'd like to pull out of the driveway because I smell gasoline, and he won't let me in.

Dispatcher: He won't let you out of the driveway?

Griffin-Hall: He won't let me in the house!

Dispatcher: Whose house is it?

Griffin-Hall: Josh Powell.

Dispatcher: You don't live there?

Griffin-Hall: No, I'm contracted by the state to provide supervised visitation. He's the husband of Susan Powell. This is a high-profile case. I was one step behind them . . .

Dispatcher: So they went in the house and locked you out?

Griffin-Hall: Yes, he shut the door in my face. The kids have been in there by now approximately ten minutes, and he knows it's a supervised visit. Braden is 5 and Charlie is 7. He won't let me in! I rang the doorbell and everything. I begged him to let me in!

Dispatcher: OK, we'll have someone look for you there.

Griffin-Hall: Do you know how long it will be?

Dispatcher: They have to respond to emergencies, life-threatening situations first.

Griffin-Hall: This could be life-threatening! He was in court on Wednesday and he didn't get his kids back and this is really . . . I'm afraid for their lives!

 

As Griffin-Hall waited nervously outside the home, the house suddenly erupted in a ground-shaking explosion and fireball, sending orange tongues of flame and a curling plume of oily smoke into the sky. The engulfed house burned with a roar and a rush of hot wind. Panicked, Griffin-Hall desperately called 911 again:

 

Dispatcher: Hello. Were you calling about the fire on 189th street?

Griffin-Hall: Yes, he exploded the house! He exploded the house!

Dispatcher: Ma'am, do you know the exact address?

Griffin-Hall: It's 8119 189th East in Puyallup!

Dispatcher: What are you calling about?

Griffin-Hall: It exploded, the house!

Dispatcher: Do you know if there's anyone in the house?

Griffin-Hall: Yes! There was a man and two children. I just dropped off the children and he wouldn't let me in the door.

Dispatcher: Stay on the line with me. I'm going to get the fire department. Hang on. Don't hang up. Stay on the phone here with me, Ma'am.

Griffin-Hall: I can hear the fire trucks, but they're not here yet.

Dispatcher: We have an engine there.

Griffin-Hall: There are boys there, 5 and 7; he has supervised visitation and he blew up the house and the kids!

Dispatcher: The kids and the father were in the house?

Griffin-Hall: Yes! He slammed the door in my face so I kept knocking. I thought it was a mistake, I kept knocking and then I called 911.

Dispatcher: You saw him go back in the house?

Griffin-Hall: He never left the house, he just opened the door, the kids were one step ahead of me, they are 5 and 7, they were one step ahead of me and he slammed the door in my face.

Dispatcher: Do you think he might have done this intentionally?

Griffin-Hall: Yes! (Crying.)

Minutes later, after a sheriff arrived on the scene, a dispatcher received a 911 call from Josh's sister, Alina Powell.

 

Alina Powell (sobbing): I think my brother might be in trouble or something.

Dispatcher: What's going on with your brother?

Powell: He's sending weird e-mails and stuff.

Dispatcher: What's his last name?

Powell: Powell.

Dispatcher: And his first name?

Powell: Josh.

Dispatcher: What makes you think there's a problem with Josh?

Powell (crying): There's been a lot of abuse against him and he's really upset. There are e-mails and stuff, and he left me a voicemail. He said something like he can't live without his sons and goodbye.

Dispatcher: Does he live at 189th Street East?

Powell: I think that's the house, I don't know.

Dispatcher: Was he going to have supervised visits today?

Powell: I think so. He normally does.

Dispatcher: This is the Josh that has been in the media?

Powell: Yes, the one who has been abused by everyone. (Crying.) The boys are 5 and 7.

Dispatcher: Did he say he'd harm himself?

Powell: No, he was just saying goodbye. (Crying.)

Dispatcher: How long has he lived there for?

Powell: A few months, four or five months. I know it's been hard on him; the abuse has been extremely difficult.

Dispatcher: What else did the e-mail say?

Powell: He sent several e-mails about how to handle his property and his utilities. They started a while ago; I didn't think anything of it. They started early this morning. They were just weird e-mails.

Dispatcher: Is he home by himself?

Powell: I don't know. He might be.
[She offers to drive over to his house to confirm the exact address, but says she's afraid. The dispatcher says he can have an officer meet her.]

Powell: I'm not afraid of him, he'd never hurt me, I'm afraid of what I'll find. (Sobbing.)

 

By the time firefighters arrived 22 minutes after Griffin-Hall's first call, Josh and both boys were dead. The home and car outside were transformed into blackened shells in the inferno, fueled by four five-gallon drums of gasoline that Powell had used to rig his home for the explosion. Police would discover that Josh Powell's home was little more than a “stage” rigged to go up in flames. He had already emptied it of its few furnishings and had given the boys' toys and books to charity. Father and sons died of carbon-monoxide poisoning, though Josh had attacked the boys before their death with an ax that was found near his body. Both boys suffered “chop marks” on their necks and head, according to the autopsy.

Almost a year later, a Child Fatality Review
3
by the Children's Administration of the Washington Department of Health and Human Services concluded that “better communication” between Washington's Department
of Social and Health Service and the West Valley City Police Department might have saved the boys' lives. A Washington intake worker answered “no” when asked on a form in the boys' files if anyone had used or threatened to use physical force against an adult in the home—even though officers told social workers that they believed Josh had killed his wife. The report concluded that “the lack of training on best practices regarding domestic violence . . . may have contributed to the lack of further exploration of domestic violence in this case.” But the report also found that social workers performed “all their duties above and beyond the expected requirements by the state, and no one could predict that Josh would murder his own children.”

Steven Powell went on trial for voyeurism and child pornography for the photos he took of the neighbor girls. The Coxes were hoping he would trade information on their missing daughter as part of possible plea deal. But if he had any information, he kept his mouth shut. “He's had a pornography problem for as long as I can remember,” his daughter Jennifer Graves testified. “And with pornography, you don't sit on the fence. You either get worse or you get better. You take steps to improve and get that out of your life or you go down the other path and you end up doing worse and worse things. It's not a surprise at all to me he's ended up where he's at now.” A detective testified that Steven Powell had written in his journal that he “likes taking video shots of pretty girls in shorts and skirts, beautiful women of every age,” and wrote, “I sometimes use these images for self-stimulation.”

The mother of the girls Powell photographed from his bedroom window testified in court about the fear she felt when a detective, who called her outside away from her daughters, told her what had been going on. One of her daughters was afraid to be in the bathroom with the door closed, so it was left open, and the mother never imaged that someone would take advantage of the situation to satisfy a kinky quirk. Powell was convicted of 14 counts of voyeurism and sentenced to 30 months in in prison. The girls' mother has filed a civil suit against Powell.

The Susan Powell case remains active, though West Valley police have significantly scaled back their search for her and their investigation. The department continues to offer a $10,000 reward for information leading to her whereabouts.

In one more toll of the case, Josh Powell's youngest brother, Michael, 30, a graduate student at the University of Minnesota, leaped to his death from the upper level of a parking garage in Minneapolis in early 2013. He had recently lost a court battle with Susan's parents over a $1.5 million life-insurance policy left by Josh. Just months before he killed himself, Josh changed the policy to list Michael and a family trust as beneficiaries, rather than Susan.