A Little Stunned

Previously: Amanda and Paco start to break down the evidence.

Photo and Graphic by Annie Wilson

9:43 AM - Wednesday, November 5, 2014

US Park Police Office, Ft Winfield Scott, The Presidio

Everyone stared at the map in silence for a long moment, until Amanda sighed audibly.

“We went back to the trail and tried to add things up and found even more butterflies as we got to this side trail that branches off of Ecology Trail at the Redwood Grove. Paco and I went over everything along the trail and found a few footprints — the trail is shaded by the redwoods so it was still really muddy.” Amanda changed the screen to show a clean footprint of a lug soled boot, and a second photo of Alexa’s boots from Halloween, showing the muddy soles. “These are common soles, but we can do soil testing to link the boots with this section of the trail to be certain.” 

“A little further down,” Paco began, there was another partial footprint which was the ball of the foot, almost all toe.” He showed an image of the partial footprint as it was directed down the trail. 

“She was running.” Mark said quietly, leaning forward. Paco looked at everyone around the table briefly, noting Jeannie’s crumpled face. 

“That’s what I thought too. Something happened here, near the Redwood Grove, and she took off running. And, going down a dark, muddy trail, she didn’t notice these erosion wattles that are across the slope of the path.”

Paco opened a new map that zoomed in on this section of the trail by the redwood grove, and pointed to the three bands that bisected the trail at diagonal angles. “They put these wattles in during the summer so they’re pretty embedded into the trail, but their whole job is to stop things sliding downhill…” he faded. “My — my theory,” Paco began again tentatively, “My theory based on the footprints and the way they’re placed is that Alexa Thomas took off running and tripped over this erosion wattle right here.” He pointed to the one in the middle of the trail.

“What makes you say that?” Mark countered, blue eyes wide as they examined the blown up map on the projector screen.

“So it was a combination of both of our theories.” Amanda offered, moving to the screen. “You can see that there’s just two butterflies on the right side of the trail here as you’d head downhill.” She pointed to the orange dots located just past the garbage can on the side trail. “And then, it wasn’t until further down that we found more, and they were grouped together. Actually, there were wings on the ground and another…” Amanda changed the photo to show a square fence post with a somewhat-realistic looking monarch butterfly wing attached to it, “…that was stuck to this fence post here.” She indicated the fence post further down the trail. “I should also say that some of the butterflies were partials, you know half a wing here, wing and body there - it had to do with the way Alexa made the dress. The original from McQueen has them sort of flattened into a sort of scalloped pattern, and Alexa did that at the top, but toward the bottom it was a little more haphazard - just kind of making sure the whole dress was covered. It worked, but it was a little less precise.” Amanda showed a picture of Elizabeth Banks in the Effie Trinket dress, and then a lab image of Alexa’s dress next to it. The two were identical except for a few bald areas. “So, logically the butterflies we found on the trail — the haphazard, glued-on ones — were the ones she’d attached toward the bottom of the dress.” Amanda took in a sharp breath. “But the butterflies at the fence post were different. They were shaped and flattened, and were ripped away — they didn’t just fall off.”

“How can you tell?” Jeannie asked timidly.

“Well, the one I found stuck to the fence post actually had some thread attached, and it had a jagged edge. The glued ones had come away clean. Also,” Amanda zoomed in on the dress, “they fit this bald spot right here at the center of her chest.” Amanda paused while her words landed in the room.

“Woah.” Mark said softly. 

“Yeah.” Paco said, nodding slightly. “So, my theory is that Alexa got spooked somehow at the top of the trail, takes off running, trips on the erosion wattle which sends her flying forward down the slope just enough to land right on the fence post.” Paco paused as he pointed out Alexa’s estimated route down the trail. “The Coroner said the blunt force trauma to the chest was caused by something heavy, that had a pointed edge or an angle to it. He said the angle hit her in such a way that it broke her ribs at the sternum, having one of them puncture her lung.” Paco read from the Coroner’s report. “Except in this case it looks like she hit it, instead of it hitting her.” Everyone was silent. 

“Wait — “ Jeannie said, barely above a whisper. “Wait, Paco, you’re saying Alexa Thomas basically, tripped and fell?” Her face was full of confusion, green eyes wet. 

“Yeah.” Paco said softly, feeling the weight of his words. “It’s the only way it makes sense. Plus the fence post is totally dislocated and tilting — they installed them new a year ago, and the rest are very secure.” 

“How did she get to the spring, then? Did someone move her?” Doug asked, rubbing an eyebrow.

“There’s no signs of anyone being dragged or anything.” Amanda tossed out. 

“No, we think that Alexa probably recovered enough to make her way down the trail — she wanted to get away from whomever or whatever scared her, so she seems to have pressed on down the trail. There’s more butterflies all the way down. Plus…” Paco clicked to show the bright image of the wolf-masked figure in a trench coat on the dark trail, “plus this picture was taken right along the trail in here — she was aiming her camera back up the hill. It lines up.” 

“Okay, so she took that picture, then put the phone back in the jacket pocket…and somehow lost the jacket, or it slipped off of her, right?” Jeannie offered, her face still showing shock.

“Yeah.” Paco agreed. “And then someone, likely whomever this is in the trench coat, picked it up and put it in the garbage can and probably went back to the party.”

“Again, more soil testing to do,” Amanda added, “but that jacket is filthy. I’m sure we can get close.” Another long moment of silence.

“Can you go back to the map, Pac?” Mark asked, and Paco changed the screen. “So — so you’re saying Alexa made her way further down the hill on her own steam? Is that, is that even possible?” He looked between Amanda and Doug.

“Yeah, it is.” Doug offered. “The drugs in her system were vodka, opiates, and GHB — she probably was a little stunned from hitting the fence post, but wouldn’t feel much. She may have noticed she wasn’t breathing well, but other than that, she was likely disoriented and didn’t know where she was going.”

“So she went off trail.” Mark said pointing at the map.

“And into a blackberry patch.” Amanda added. “This area here, where the lower Ecology trail intersects with this side trail into this section above the spring — well, it’s a bit more wild than the areas above. There isn’t a lot of fencing or control to prevent someone from walking off the trail. In the daylight you’d see how wild it is, but in the dark you wouldn’t know what you were walking into. The butterflies were in the blackberry here and there, and then the slope gets a lot more steep. We found a few little clusters of butterflies, and then we were basically about 10-15 feet above the spring head and it’s got a drop off. We couldn’t make our way down there — we wouldn’t have been able to get back out.”

“Like Alexa.” Jeannie whispered. 

Mark inhaled deeply. “So, then Alexa just — what, she fell again?”

“By that point,” Doug shrugged. “Again, she probably was too out of it to feel anything or notice anything, but she’d be finding it harder and harder to breathe, and she may have been afraid and paranoid after what happened up at the redwood grove, so she probably thought she was making progress. In her state she wouldn’t have a sense of direction and that undergrowth is dense — it was probably like quicksand. She probably got tripped up again and rolled right down into the spring.”

“The Coroner did say he pulled out 62 blackberry thorns from her legs and arms.” Amanda added quietly. “So we know she definitely lost the jacket before she got in there.”

Jeannie’s mouth was parted in confusion. “Look, all of this makes sense, but — but you’re basically saying Alexa Thomas’ death was accidental?” Her face was a pale moon.

“Not necessarily, someone intended to drug her and scare her.” Mark offered. 

“We don’t know that, Mark.” Jeannie argued quietly. “We know there was drugs and alcohol going around, but intent specific to Alexa? All of those kids were partying that night. Even if they had intent, whomever it is, they’d have plausible deniability. They’ll say it was a joke, a prank…maybe it went too far, but to kill her? We are going to have to find something very compelling to make that stick.” 

“That’s true, but let me tell you about the Tito’s…” Amanda said, changing the screen to an image of one of the Trick-or-Tito’s. “I numbered all of the bottles and tested them to compare the contents. Most of the Tito’s bottles were just Tito’s…straight vodka. In fact, of the 46 bottles recovered, only 6 of them had traces of vodka and GHB. Two of those bottles were found up at the bench in the parking lot, which Paco mentioned was where Seb Podesta was hanging out end of night?”

“And he was obliterated.” Paco added.

“But of all of them, only ONE of the Tito’s bottles had a combination of vodka, GHB, and opiates, and that was the one found in Seb Podesta’s jacket that Alexa was wearing. Her DNA is on the mouth of the bottle, and since we found her cell phone in the other pocket of the jacket…”

“Woah.” It was Mark again. “You’re saying that the Trick-or-Tito’s that somehow made its way to Alexa was more spiked than the others?”

“Yes.” 

Jeannie sighed. “Now, that’s intent,” She said, looking at Mark.