miles east of Omaha, for a surprise visit to Liz’s adoptive family. The Parsnoll home was outside of town, reachable only by a decidedly creepy, narrow dirt road. The tips of the branches on the rows of trees on either side of the road laced together, creating a leafy tunnel that blocked the sun. The Parsnoll house was nice, but appeared to be in the middle of a remodeling project. He pulled into the driveway where two Cadillacs and an SUV were parked. When he got out of the car, he was confronted by a woman in her late fifties, accompanied by a pretty teenage girl.
“What do you want?” the woman demanded.
“I’m Detective Dave Schneider from the Omaha Homicide Unit.”
“We wondered if you’d show up!” said the woman, her tone now friendly. “I’m Nannette Parsnoll.” She apologized for greeting him so rudely and explained that the teens she fostered had a bad habit of meeting men on the Internet. “We have these strange men show up here every once in a while, because of these kids!”
They went inside, and before he could start asking questions, Nannette had one for him. After they talked, could he speak to the girls about the dangers of meeting strangers on the Internet? He was a little surprised by the request but agreed.
Liz was so diabolical that everyone working the case had wondered about her background, and they expected the Parsnoll family to have answers. Were there early signs she was disturbed? Had she ever harmed animals, stolen things, or lied?
“All of these kids are liars,” Nannette replied, unconcerned about the foster kids within earshot. Schneider glanced at them, wondering if they’d take offense. He read nothing on their faces, and Nannette didn’t miss a beat as she explained that all of the foster kids were trouble, all were liars. None of them could be trusted. She had nothing specific to offer about Liz. The whole lot of foster kids seemed lumped together in her mind. While she was very cordial, Detective Schneider got nothing useful from her, and neither did this writer. When I called, Nannette politely explained that she “really appreciated writers,” but was going to support her biological daughter, Patsy, in her decision to shed no light on possible warning signs in Liz’s childhood. Only three people know anything, she insisted. “Mickey, Patsy, and Nannette.”
Confused, I said, “Nannette? I thought you were Nannette.”
“Yes, I am,” she replied, and I realized she’d been referring to herself in the third person. In her lovely, almost musical voice, Nannette said that the three people with key information about Liz’s childhood had vowed to say not one word about it. Mickey had apparently been a foster child who’d grown up with Liz and was privy to the secret details along with Patsy and Nannette. “He’s a cancer survivor,” Nannette volunteered and warned me not to call him, because he’d likely be rude. It’s the Parsnolls’ right, of course, to keep their secrets to themselves, though their refusal to speak does make me wonder if they’re hiding something. But Nannette seemed sincere in her interaction with Detective Schneider. It’s possible that the Parsnolls never noticed alarming behavior in Liz and that they’re simply very private people.
Before he left, Detective Schneider granted Nannette’s request to lecture her foster daughters on the dangers of meeting people on the Internet. The teens listened and nodded, but somehow, he didn’t get the feeling his warning made an impact. It was a little ironic, considering that he’d traveled there to get information on the very dangerous person whose meeting of Dave Kroupa on the Internet had resulted in murder. Whether or not Nannette Parsnoll noted that irony, she did not say.
The Parsnoll family seemed to be decent folks, though some members had a different perspective on the world than Schneider did. When he visited the home of Liz’s adopted sister, Marcy, he was greeted by her husband, who sidled up to him, dropped his voice in a conspiratorial tone and confided, “I’m armed too. I just want you to know, I’m progun, too.”
While his job requires him to carry a gun, the detective is adamant that it’s not a political statement, emphasizing, “I’m probably the least pro-gun cop you could meet.”
As the trial drew near, Schneider, Doty, and Avis continued to interview those close to Liz, while Kava’s time was consumed with deciphering Liz’s electronic trail. He stopped in to see Kroupa at Hyatt Tire on February 1 and asked about electronic