By June 23, 1998, the local press had latched onto the story. The Troy Record, a newspaper that had followed Evans’s career in crime, ran banner headlines: GRUESOME DISCOVERY IN BRUNSWICK: Saratoga Man’s Death Ruled a Homicide; Friend a Suspect.
This just made things more difficult for Horton, who still had a tremendous amount of work to do with Evans. The media frenzy that ensued became almost unbearable for Horton and the Bureau as they continued to try to get Evans to admit where he had buried Michael Falco and Damien Cuomo. Rumors abounded that he had killed men in Seattle and Florida. Horton was fielding inquiries from law enforcement around the country—everyone, it seemed, had an unsolved murder that Evans could be responsible for.
Evans had said something to Horton that had bothered Horton: “There are others….”
Throughout the past few days, as Horton stopped at Albany County Jail to visit Evans and check on him, he would plant the notion that there would come a time when they would have to discuss what he had meant by “others.”
Since news of Tim’s murder had broken, Horton and Evans had become local celebrities. All the newspapers and television stations were running nonstop coverage. Wherever Horton went, he was recognized. Evans, who was spending most of his time in Albany County Jail, was also gaining national serial killer celebrity status, like Ted Bundy or John Wayne Gacy.
“I realized quite quickly that all this did was massage Gary’s ego,” Horton later recalled. “He had been severely depressed since giving up Timmy’s body. But now that his face and name were front-page news, he lightened up.”
Horton viewed Evans’s newfound celebrity as a way to further his agenda. He had been stopping by to see Evans two, three, even four times a day, asking him if he needed anything.
“How are you being treated?”
It was “Mr. Horton” now when he walked into the jail. The guards were “very accommodating.” Whatever Horton and Evans needed, they got. No questions asked.
“When you think about the gravity of the situation—we’re talking about a serial murderer,” Horton said, “it makes you understand how the media turns these guys into celebrities. Gary saw it coming.”
Evans was in “protective lockdown.” He was considered a high-risk inmate. When Horton stopped by the jail to see him on June 24, Evans indicated that he wanted to go outside and talk.
Horton would arrive at the jail, go see Evans and be asked on the way out by media and guards: “Did you get another body out of him today?” It had become rather surreal, as if people were keeping score.
During one afternoon, Horton brought Evans out to the basketball court in the jail’s courtyard. It was a crisp, sunny day. They were alone. “Listen, Gar,” Horton said, “you told me ‘two others.’ What did you mean by that?”
“You mean you didn’t find them?”
“There are hundreds of open homicides. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“West! Start looking west.”
“Come on…don’t screw me around.”
After Evans had a few moments of psychotic jubilation over the fact that he was still in charge, he gave Horton details that only he could have known about the murders of jewelry shop owners Douglas Berry and Gregory Jouben. Cops run the risk of sometimes accepting that a perpetrator will take responsibility for crimes he did not commit just to bask in the glory. Because of that, cops need details of the crimes only the killer knows.
When Evans finished giving Horton two statements—regarding Berry and Jouben—he realized that there was no way Evans could have been lying; the details, matched up against the police reports from those murders, had striking consistencies.
Later that day, Evans admitted murdering Damien Cuomo and agreed to show Horton where Damien’s body was buried.
So again, there they were in Horton’s car en route to find another body. As they made their way into Troy, near Damien Cuomo’s parents’ house and the apartment Damien had shared with Lisa Morris, Horton asked him if he had been back to the scene since burying Cuomo.
“Nope,” Evans said stoically. His moods fluctuated. He was up. Then down. Talkative. Then quiet. It was all part of what was going on inside his head. At times, Horton swore, it was as if the entire situation weren’t real to Evans. He began talking about a television movie and which actor was best suited to play him. He asked Horton who he wanted to play his role. Horton didn’t feed into it, but instead kept directing Evans back to what was important.
Tropical heat had invaded the Albany region over the past few days. By midafternoon, as Horton, Evans and the forensic crew reached the wooded area where Damien was buried, the humidity was brutal.
“I cut a tree down,” Evans said, “to mark the area. But it all looks so different now up here.”
It had been nearly ten years since Evans had murdered Damien. The entire area had grown in. What were weeds back then were now small trees.
Horton handcuffed himself to Evans as they made their way through the brush.
“So you cut down a tree…. Well, the stump should still be here somewhere,” Horton offered. No sooner had he said it, then they located a tree that had been lopped off near the base of its trunk. “This has to be it.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Come on, how many trees do you see cut down around here?”
“I’m not sure, Guy.”
“You’re supposed to be an outdoorsman…. This tree is cut off. How many others do you see like it around here?”
Evans again said he wasn’t sure.
“Let’s just pretend, then, that this is it.”
“Sixty paces straight ahead,” Evans said in a near whisper.
Horton and Evans counted the sixty paces. “Start digging here,” Horton yelled while pointing to the ground below his feet.
“Topsoil,” Evans said. “When you find empty white bags of topsoil, you’ve found Damien.”
Within fifteen minutes, Bureau investigators located a piece of rope tied in a knot and two empty bags of topsoil from a local hardware store. A minute later, digging farther, they located an upside-down sneaker.
It was Damien Cuomo’s right foot.
Walking back to the car with Evans as the Bureau finished digging up the remains of Damien Cuomo, Horton thought, That poor bastard…he knew he was going to die long before he was murdered. He looked at Evans, who smirked sarcastically as they walked. You cold son of a bitch. I never really knew how sick you were.
Horton, Chuck “Sully” Sullivan and Evans left the scene as the CSI unit began its tedious excavation process. Evans wanted a copy of the local newspapers and something to eat. Horton knew it would be a long day. He still had to get Evans to write an official statement regarding the events of the day. There was a Cumberland Farms convenience store right down the street.
“Let’s stop here,” Horton said, pulling into the parking lot. He sent Sully into the store. “Get him some orange juice, the newspapers, some chocolate-chip cookies.”
“Thanks, Guy,” Evans said from the backseat.
With Sully inside the store, Horton leaned over the front seat and, handing Evans his cell phone, said, “Call Lisa Morris.”
Evans froze. What?
“Call Lisa and tell her what you did to her boyfriend, the father of her child. You’ve led her on for all these years…making her believe Damien was still alive. I want you to tell her what you did. You owe her that much!”
Evans took the phone, sat back, stared at it and started crying.
“Call her!”
Evans slowly dialed the number.
“Lisa? That you?”
Lisa Morris’s life, by June 1998, had spiraled out of control. She was drinking heavily, abusing hard drugs and spending much of her time in local bars. She hadn’t worked in quite some time. Befriending Horton in 1997 and setting up Evans for his fall in Vermont had indeed taken its toll. She had loved Evans. She believed in her heart Damien had run out on her and Christina. Even with the latest news coverage, she still didn’t want to believe Evans had killed Damien.
“I was grief stricken about the whole thing,” Lisa said later. “Gary was my best friend. I had lost the love of my life when Damien disappeared. Gary filled that role. Regardless of what people have said, [Gary] was good for Christina. He loved her. When I saw in the newspaper that he was giving up bodies, I couldn’t believe what they were saying about him.”
Crying, Evans said, “I’m sorry….”
“What do you mean, you’re ‘sorry’?” Lisa asked.
“I gotta do this favor for these guys…. I didn’t mean to do this to you,” Evans said.
In the end, Evans refused to tell Lisa that he had killed Damien.
“But I knew,” she recalled later.
Horton sat there, watching, listening.
Lisa finally said, “Put Jim back on the phone.”
Evans handed Horton the phone and stared out the window.
Lisa couldn’t speak when Horton got on the phone.
“I’m very sorry, Lisa. I am,” Horton said. “I’ll call you later.”