The next evening, Texas Ranger Palmer visited Gil Medellin. Gil confirmed what his stepson said about the Suburban and added that in the days before Thanksgiving, he also saw a black SUV on a different night. He tried to flag down the driver, who would not stop.
More ominously, Gil said that he had seen smoke rising from the area around the abandoned farmhouse during daylight hours that week. Palmer drove past the property but did not enter, because the driveway was blocked by a pile of dirt. He saw nothing suspicious.
On January 14, Child Protective Services went to the schools to interview the boys. William told the representatives that he and James got in big trouble when CPS came by the house. “We were supposed to go inside if we saw anyone from CPS, law enforcement or the media, and we didn’t,” he told them. “My dad says now we may have to go to an orphanage for a while.”
William said that they got in trouble when they called each other names or when he and James ganged up on Timmy. If they misbehaved, he made them sit on the trampoline and “get a little pounding.” That, he said, meant that they had to “body slam each other.” Sometimes, he related, their dad would say, “Turkey jump fast,” then grab the small hairs at their napes and pull them up.
The boy explained that there were five levels of punishment. On level one, his dad popped them with his hand. On level five, he popped them with a rod on their rumpuses. He said his dad began using the rod after reading a Bible verse that said, “Don’t use the rod, spoil the child.” William claimed that the last time he had marks left on his rumpus from the rod was when he ran away and called his dad curse words.
He said his mom gave them light pops, but didn’t have levels of punishment. He felt safe with Mom. He did not feel safe with Dad.
James told CPS that neither he nor William had ever been hurt taking care of themselves. He expressed concern that his brothers might lie because they thought their dad was mean. But, Dad, he said, was just administering punishment.
Timmy reported that his dad pinched him and “hurt his bones.” He demonstrated this punishment by squeezing both his shoulders hard. “My dad pinches my bones into crumbs.” Then, he thumped his head with his finger and said his dad did that a lot, too.
That same morning at 8 A.M., Sergeant Palmer met with staff and volunteers from the Heidi Search Center. A new lead demanded a search by the San Antonio River from Mulberry Avenue down to the end of River Road.
Searchers walked with slow deliberation down both sides of the river searching for signs of anything suspicious. Palmer spotted the telltale indications of a recent burial site. He called in a request for evidence techs.
While waiting for their arrival, Palmer shot photographs of the spot. He kept everyone far enough away from the site to avoid contamination, but brought the staff close enough to learn the significance of his discovery. “See how different this spot looks from the area around it?” he said as he pointed out the visual and tactile anomalies of freshly turned earth.
Throughout the weeks of searching, Palmer—present at every location—used each occasion as a teaching opportunity. It was clear that he wanted the Heidi Search Center staff to be as knowledgeable as possible to add to their effectiveness in the future. Kate Kohl, executive director of the organization, felt that both he and Sergeant Wedding treated them with uncommon respect and inclusion. “They really brought us into the circle of trust,” she said.
When the evidence team arrived, they all stood back and watched the slow, methodical process of uncovering a grave. Using techniques employed at archeological dig sites, they excavated small layers of dirt, transporting it with care to a selected site for further examination later.
As they approached the buried object, the smell of death—a nauseating blend of sweet and sour—rose from the hole and permeated the senses of the onlookers. They rocked with a violent personal revulsion at the assault. At the bottom of the grave, there was a body—the carcass of a dog.
Kate—no stranger to dead animals, having encountered many during flood searches—was surprised by the difference and intensity of the stench. The smell that emanated from the grave was far more raw and primal than the odor of decay she encountered out in the open.
Moments after the techs realized there were no human remains at this site, Shawn Palmer left the search area, urgency electrifying his every move. Kate noticed the change in his demeanor as he hurried off to his car. She wondered about its cause, but did not suspect what the afternoon would reveal.
Palmer caught up with Sergeant Wedding and the two men headed down South W.W. White Road to search the property surrounding the abandoned farmhouse after the owner granted verbal consent. They hoped but dared not believe they would find the answer to Susan McFarland’s disappearance there. It was just another lead to follow—just another patch of ground to cover. They traveled leads down a lot of dead-end roads, like this morning’s disappointing dog disinterment and the day they slogged through dense undergrowth to find a deer carcass under the circling of twentyfive buzzards. Both knew it was possible that Susan’s body might not ever be found.
Despite their caution, this lead would prove to be the one they had sought for so many days. This scraggly piece of property was the one that contained the charred, abandoned body of Susan McFarland. At last.
The arrest of Rick McFarland was imminent. The first concern was the safety of the children. Representatives of the Texas Department of Protective and Regulatory Services rushed over to the schools where the boys attended their after-school-care programs.
At 4 P.M., Rick called Jennifer Biry at work. A couple of weeks earlier, she had resumed meal delivery at Rick’s request. “Are you planning on taking food over to the house this evening?”
“Of course, Rick.”
“I wanted to check because of what was printed in the newspaper today,” he said referring to an article about a CPS investigation of a life-endangering situation in the McFarland household. I thought you might be afraid I would have the chain saw going.”
Although he did not know it, Rick McFarland would not need to worry about dinner that night. Texas Ranger Palmer and Terrell Hills investigator Wedding shadowed his every move as he drove through the streets of San Antonio. As soon as the two officers got word that the three McFarland boys were secure, they made their move to take Rick into custody.