dirty towels he had observed atop the Petersons' washing machine. Nava explained that she'd used them to clean the outside of the window frames and the inside of the fireplace screen.
"Where did you leave the towels?" he asked.
"I left them in a bucket so they could be washed at a later date."
Yet Scott had told the police he'd found the towels inside the washing machine. A seemingly minor discrepancy, but someone took them out of that bucket to fill it with water. Was this at Laci's request, or did Scott have some cleaning of his own to do?
By 11:30 A.M., Brocchini called Detective Craig Grogan and requested that the Homicide Division become officially involved in the investigation.
Modesto cops would see it as a lucky break that Grogan was next up on the rotation. Like Brocchini, Grogan was a seasoned professional. Fellow officers in the department had nothing but praise for the stocky detective with the thinning hair and bushy moustache who'd joined Modesto's Crimes Against Persons Unit in 1998 after thirteen years in policing. Besides investigating homicides, kidnappings, sexual assaults, and other violent crimes, Grogan's duties included missing persons cases.
Technically, Grogan shouldn't have been available to take the Peterson case. Two days earlier, a storeowner had shot and killed a robber, but Grogan knew it was a case requiring little or no investigation, so instead of taking it himself, he let a patrol officer handle it. Many investigators would have wanted the open-and-shut case to "get off the bubble"-that is, to move to the end of the rotation. Interestingly, the next officer on the rotation was in the middle of a contentious divorce. It would have been difficult for him to commit the time and attention the Peterson case would require. What Grogan didn't foresee was just how much the intense investigation would test his marriage. Grogan, who lived on a ranch a good distance out of town with his wife and two small children, would miss his children's birthdays while working on the case. On countless occasions, he was forced to tell his wife he was too busy to take her calls. Outside observers rarely understand the toll these cases take on the officers and their own families.
As Grogan caught up on the details of Laci's disappearance, other investigators hit the pavement. Detective Jon Buehler knocked on Karen Servas's door just before noon. Servas, the Petersons' next-door neighbor, had already told police how she'd discovered McKenzie the previous morning. Now she gave her official report.
Around 10:30 that morning, about the same time that the other neighbors, Amy Krigbaum and Tara Venable, had heard a dog barking, Servas was backing out of her driveway. She spotted the golden retriever standing near the street. Checking his tags to make sure it was McKenzie, she decided to take him home.
The Petersons' front gate was locked, so Servas circled around to the second gate near the swimming pool. Seeing nothing unusual, she left the dog in the yard. She did notice that his leash was very dirty, so much so that she went back into her own home to wash her hands before getting back in her car to go run errands. She recalled a man walking near her car at the time, but noticed nothing unusual or alarming about him.
Concerned for Laci's safety, Buehler pressed Servas for more information. From what he'd learned about her family and life, it just didn't seem likely that she would simply leave home without notice.
Servas described her relationship with Scott Peterson as warm and friendly. She and her ten-year-old son were frequently invited to swim in the Petersons' pool; from time to time, Scott helped her with chores and repairs around her house. She described the couple as active and upbeat. They enjoyed entertaining at their home and appeared to have a good relationship. Servas had last seen Laci and Scott on Sunday, the twenty-second, when they told her
"Where did you leave the towels?" he asked.
"I left them in a bucket so they could be washed at a later date."
Yet Scott had told the police he'd found the towels inside the washing machine. A seemingly minor discrepancy, but someone took them out of that bucket to fill it with water. Was this at Laci's request, or did Scott have some cleaning of his own to do?
By 11:30 A.M., Brocchini called Detective Craig Grogan and requested that the Homicide Division become officially involved in the investigation.
Modesto cops would see it as a lucky break that Grogan was next up on the rotation. Like Brocchini, Grogan was a seasoned professional. Fellow officers in the department had nothing but praise for the stocky detective with the thinning hair and bushy moustache who'd joined Modesto's Crimes Against Persons Unit in 1998 after thirteen years in policing. Besides investigating homicides, kidnappings, sexual assaults, and other violent crimes, Grogan's duties included missing persons cases.
Technically, Grogan shouldn't have been available to take the Peterson case. Two days earlier, a storeowner had shot and killed a robber, but Grogan knew it was a case requiring little or no investigation, so instead of taking it himself, he let a patrol officer handle it. Many investigators would have wanted the open-and-shut case to "get off the bubble"-that is, to move to the end of the rotation. Interestingly, the next officer on the rotation was in the middle of a contentious divorce. It would have been difficult for him to commit the time and attention the Peterson case would require. What Grogan didn't foresee was just how much the intense investigation would test his marriage. Grogan, who lived on a ranch a good distance out of town with his wife and two small children, would miss his children's birthdays while working on the case. On countless occasions, he was forced to tell his wife he was too busy to take her calls. Outside observers rarely understand the toll these cases take on the officers and their own families.
As Grogan caught up on the details of Laci's disappearance, other investigators hit the pavement. Detective Jon Buehler knocked on Karen Servas's door just before noon. Servas, the Petersons' next-door neighbor, had already told police how she'd discovered McKenzie the previous morning. Now she gave her official report.
Around 10:30 that morning, about the same time that the other neighbors, Amy Krigbaum and Tara Venable, had heard a dog barking, Servas was backing out of her driveway. She spotted the golden retriever standing near the street. Checking his tags to make sure it was McKenzie, she decided to take him home.
The Petersons' front gate was locked, so Servas circled around to the second gate near the swimming pool. Seeing nothing unusual, she left the dog in the yard. She did notice that his leash was very dirty, so much so that she went back into her own home to wash her hands before getting back in her car to go run errands. She recalled a man walking near her car at the time, but noticed nothing unusual or alarming about him.
Concerned for Laci's safety, Buehler pressed Servas for more information. From what he'd learned about her family and life, it just didn't seem likely that she would simply leave home without notice.
Servas described her relationship with Scott Peterson as warm and friendly. She and her ten-year-old son were frequently invited to swim in the Petersons' pool; from time to time, Scott helped her with chores and repairs around her house. She described the couple as active and upbeat. They enjoyed entertaining at their home and appeared to have a good relationship. Servas had last seen Laci and Scott on Sunday, the twenty-second, when they told her
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