Dateline Exclusive - OxyMoron Series - True Love

 

Dateline Exclusive - OxyMoron Series - True Love

 

A tale of love, adultery, Colombian drug smuggling and murder, Dateline’s exclusive expose on a bizarre and tragic chain of events.  

 

The trail leads from Kansas City to the Chilean Coast, to Brazil and back to Shawnee, Kansas. 

 

From Desert Mirages to Blossoming Romance

 

It was Spring in downtown Kansas City, Missouri and on this very day in April of 2017, Sarah had made a decision that would change her life forever.  She had come to Kansas City to attend a poetry reading, in which she was featured writer and reader.  She was newly published under a book title “Trail her Trash” and her prominent presence in the underground poetry scene had garnered her quite a following for the event. 

 

She bought a round trip ticket and was to return to Los Angeles where she resided with her boyfriend with whom she had plans to move with and retire to Arizona in a lovely open space ranch style house in Ashfork, a town known for being outlaw territory, where they would live in a two bedroom, off the grid, solar paneled home with stables and a massive garage that could be used for a silo of sorts, she had planned to name her horse Charlie, she imagined a quiet life in the high desert, surrounded by juniper trees and mysterious weather. 

 

Unfortunately, after a thirteen-year friendship and unexpected relationship with her best friend, Sarah discovered that not all wishes should come true and due to his inability to provide nurture and intimacy she disappointingly found herself finding reason after reason to leave town.  However, after having such accolade and nostalgia for the city that she’d lived in ten years prior, she decided that if she got a job before her plane was to depart home, she was staying in KC.

 

So, on a warm summer afternoon, penniless, desperately in need of occupation, Sarah walked into the notorious destination, the Quaff Bar and Grill and that’s when she met Marshal who looked at her as if she belonged to him from the moment she walked through the door. She knew he wasn’t going to let her out of his sight until she did either, he was tenacious. 

 

Sarah had never been so flattered before, she told friends.  She engaged in conversation with him and he promised her a job that was quickly rejected by the owner, Joe Bonino.  While Sarah applied door to door in retail and hospitality locations, her iphone had lost its battery charge and she had no way of getting home or to call her friend Sue Ellen who was in the downtown area and would give her a ride back to her lodging in Leawood.   Never to worry, Marhsal said he would give her a ride home.  The two discussed poetry, music, literature and carried on sharp banter until he was due off work where he’d instructed her to meet him on the corner, as company policy prevented him from taking home patrons.

 

Sarah met Marshal on the corner and upon entering his disheveled car, she saw the New Yorker magazine and by the wear and tear, or articles left open for finishing, she knew he was a true reader and became impressed.  He’d won her favor.  However, he was still a stranger, so rather than the long drive to Leawood where she was staying, she had him drop her off at her friend’s house in Westwood Hills.  They exchanged numbers and would share their first date a month later.  

 

Sarah bragged to her friends that she’d met someone worthy of her attention, “He took me to a ballet…on purpose…without me asking…”  By all accounts, Marshal lavished Sarah in attention and luxurious dates.  It was his son that really impressed her, a sharp, funny and imaginative child – Sarah found herself in love with Marshal’s eleven-year old son.  His father romanced her and made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world until he met a Latin siren the week before her family was coming in town to meet the man she was so smitten with who had the amazing son.

 

In October of 2017, Marshal texted Sarah his plans of a Hawaiian vacation with the other woman on accident and upon having information handed to her she would break up with him, only to take him back.  From 2018-2020, Sarah and Marshal would be on and off again through the next four years until the pandemic happened, at which point, the couple opted to live together.

 

“Sarah saved Marshal’s life, she made his house a home and took care of his son as if he was her own…” Many stated. 

 

“Marshal was always girl crazy, it wasn’t a secret to Sarah…” others claimed that she had known full well what Marshal was capable of in terms of infidelity.   

 

“Marshal loved her, gave her a home, she didn’t have to work, she spent her time decorating and waiting on him – he spent his time drinking, flirting and coming home to her and the kid…”.  

 

But, whatever the case, they seemed to have a happy home. 

 

The Colombian Connection

 

Sarah had long suspected that the late-night ring tones to Marshal’s phone were not work related.   His long list of new friends on Facebook did not match the clientele, past, or in passing stories he told which led her to believe he was on the prowl. 

 

He was specifically looking for a type she felt that she could not compete with – the Sofia Vergara trophy wife he lusted for did not compare to the sophisticated, witty and pretty Sarah but Marshal was hitting a mid=life crisis propelled by the news that he had advanced liver disease.   He wanted to meet an educated, sexy, independent woman whom he could have a long-term relationship with – and the truth was, it was just a fantasy and Sarah felt that it was highly unlikely some Sofia Vergara was going to sweep Marshal off his feet and come to Kansas City and he certainly wasn’t going to abandon her or his son to fly off to Brazil, was he, what were the chances?

 

The Colombian Cupid dating site claims to have over 600,000 members – 499,876 are women which gives ample opportunity for vacationing in Brazil, getting citizenship in the United States through marriage and a two-year investment in a sham marriage is often worth the cost. 

 

Marshal had no shortage of matches between the ages of 20-49, no lack of messages garnering his request to reply, nor did he have any shortage in browsing the many women seeking sanctuary with just his type. 

 

It started off innocently enough, Marshal had really just had a fantasy of a gorgeous dark haired passionate woman with a devil may care attitude.  He’d never really imagined it would become reality or a permanent option.  That was,until he met Angelica Vargas, an heiress to fortune speculated to have accumulated from drugs and philanthropy efforts, with a college education, beauty sash of first place in her hometown, and gorgeous eyes, legs, hair and figure – he could not resist the temptation.

 

They emailed lightly at first, he showered her in compliments, made funny jokes, touted himself as retired, forty-two, successfully wealthy and sought after bachelor who was seeking someone more likeminded and independent – Angelica enjoyed his sharp humor and believed he was telling the truth. 

 

They booked a three day get away to meet in Columbia.  When he booked the tickets, he told Sarah that he wanted her to see her foster daughter and family she missed so much in California.  He surprised her by buying round trip flight to see her family in Los Angeles and went online to help her find the right hotel for her vacation that she so deserved. 

 

While Sarah was in California for two weeks, he went to see Angelica and they were seduced by the idea of each other in their brief and passionate affair.

 

Emails continued, communication was frequent and promises were plenty from Marshal to Angelica.  The two could not get enough of each other and Sarah was becoming a distant interest and burden to maintain.  What if Angelica would move to the United States?  Marshal told his friends at the bar he wasn’t sure what to do.  He continued to play all sides until Angelica had made a final decision to move to Kansas City, she landed a contract with a locally produced and nationally distributed bridal magazine and would be the featured model in their next twelve months of publications.   She was featured in bridal gowns designed by the finest materials, wore extravagant jewelry and posed in lingerie photos promoting wedding night desire. 

 

Sarah had her suspicions about Marshal’s fidelity.  He was often out late.  One night she smelled perfume on him and demanded to know what was going on.  He told her didn’t know what she was talking about – one of the barmaids left a bottle of perfume on the shelf behind the bar, when he was reaching back to grab some sort of candy, he toppled over on to the counter, shattering and making the bar reek all night saturating his shirt and pants. 

 

He always came home to his family she had thought.  Whatever he was up to, couldn’t have been much she surmised. 

 

Sarah couldn’t have been more wrong, the Columbian model and her boyfriend with whom she lived with, and raised a teenager together with, was spending every second he could with his Latin beauty.  Later reports state that Marshal was seen taking Angelica to the Starlight theatre, Nelson Atkins Museum, Classic Cup Restaurant and there was no hiding their desire for one another patrons and shop owners recalled later.

 

Then, one night a few weeks after Angelica had taken up residence in the posh Country Club Plaza area, she told Marshal she hated Kansas City.  She wanted to move back to Columbia and it was time that he made a commitment.  She didn’t want to have a fling anymore and she suspected his live-in nanny was more than what he’d told her – she was putting her foot down. 

 

He took her to Helzberg and bought her an emerald engagement ring right then and there.  

She was alight with his promise to move to Columbia and pursue a career as a professor teaching English.  They would live in her ranch estate and her brothers would help him with anything he needed as they were men about town.

 

Non-Stop Destinations

 

He went home and realized his options for a smooth getaway were slim.  He did not want to deal with the emotional baggage Sarah would be won to carry and he didn’t want to hear his son’s judgment of him based on pursuing his own dreams for once in his life, instead of being saddled with the consequences of his impulsive behaviors. 

 

A chance like this wouldn’t come along again and he wanted everything Angelica had to offer and wouldn’t need Sarah anymore, he’d have a new life and he felt remorse that she had given so much of her life to him and to his son but it was for the best, he never had any intention of marrying her or being the husband she longed to have.

 

He picked a fight with his teenage son who reacted violently.  Marshal put him on a plane to visit his Grandparents in Florida.  Angelica gave him three weeks to come to her ranch in the country so that they could reunite and plan their wedding. 

 

“Sarah had always wanted to get married and Marshal had toyed with the idea but it just wasn’t in him to marry someone…” co-workers said of him. 

 

“We were shocked to hear that he was getting married and needed time off, he didn’t invite anyone, he just said he had to take a couple days off and get this done, like a chore, ya know?”  said a barmaid at the Quaff in an interview quoted in the KC Star Newspaper.

 

Without a Hitch

 

When he proposed to Sarah, he told her his health was in rapid decline.  He said that he wanted her to care for his son and without a written testament, he felt that he should marry her to ensure she was his parent without a question of doubt. 

 

Sarah told her friend, “I couldn’t understand why he had unpublished copies of a bridal magazine in the trunk of his car, I think he was planning long before he asked…” 

 

When Sarah told Marshal her thoughts on the magazines he’d been mysteriously hoarding, he laughed and said “I was saving those for you to pick your dress, honey…”.

 

Marshal had a vested interest in keeping the details of his wedding on track and on time quietly.  While Sarah and Marshal agreed it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress before the wedding, he attended the fitting with his soon to be wife, touting that money was no object and he wanted the prettiest dress she could possibly wear.   Sarah came out of the dressing room, exclaiming she’d found the dress – he looked at her with what appeared to be disgust the bridal clerk recalled.  “He told her that the dress was suited for a tall and slender model body and not a figure like hers, he said he was sorry it just looked horrible on her.”  Sarah rushed back into the dressing room and cried. 

 

The truth was that had been the very dress, he’d become so enamored with on set of one of Angleica’s photo shoots.   Angelica had worn the sequined, fishtail, bridal gown crowned in a garland of white roses just a few weeks ago.  While the photographer snapped away, she smiled at him as he sat on a park bench, sipping champagne in awe of her beauty.  The photo shoot took place in Loose Park, known for its rose garden and wedding ceremonies, he imagined her walking toward him, smiling in all white, flashing those dark brown eyes at him, his beautiful bride. 

 

Was it guilt that made him snap at Sarah for wearing the same dress?  Or, was it that he could not imagine any other woman but Angelica in this brides dress?  The couple left the store with a more modest a-line dress that looked stunning on the bride the day she and Marshal tied the knot.  There were few photos of the occasion, Sarah managed a few selfies of them against the downtown skyline, and one court reporter took a snapshot of them on the Kansas City courthouse steps, smiling as happy newlyweds.

 

Marshal surprised Sarah with a honeymoon.  For 3,500 pesos a night they would sleep under a cabana at Piqueros off the Chilean coast, with a view of the beach to the west and the stark beauty of the Atacama to the east.  Sarah was dismayed at the primitive lodging, after reviewing the canvas cabanas, he realized it would be difficult to have any privacy with Sarah.  Marshal upgraded their reservation to a secluded cottage on Isla Negra where poet Pablo Neruda lived with his third-wife.

 

The Night in Isla Negra

 

“Ancient night and the unruly salt
beat at the walls of my house.
The shadow is all one, the sky
throbs now along with the ocean,
and sky and shadow erupt
in the crash of their vast conflict.
All night long they struggle;
nobody knows the name
of the harsh light that keeps slowly opening
like a languid fruit.
So on the coast comes to light,
out of seething shadow, the harsh dawn,
gnawed at by the moving salt,
swept clean by the mass of night,
bloodstained in its sea-washed crater.” Pablo Neruda

 

During their stay along the coast, it seemed that maybe, just maybe, Marshal had a heart, or change of heart, perhaps. 

 

He delayed his visit to Angelica by four days, claiming he just wasn’t able to get out of town just yet and she’d “Just have to wait…I’m uprooting my life for you – isn’t that enough reason?”  Angelica was surprised by his sharp tone and planned for his arrival accordingly.

 

Marshal lavished Sarah in attention, reading her poetry in cantinas, walking along the beach in moonlight, treating her like a princess in every manner possible.  They dined in darling restaurants, rode bikes over bridges (maybe even some of the same bridges he was scouting out to toss her over), they kissed like it was their last kiss and indulged in one another like they had no tomorrow.   Sarah wrote in her diary that when drunk, Marshal kept telling her how sorry he was, how sorry he was leaving, sorry he wasn’t the man she thought he was.  She contemplated his guilt for being ill; and never questioned the apologies he offered.  

 

Investigators believe that before the final hours of her life that Sarah found out of her husband’s affair with Angelica. 

 

The two argued, but in the secluded resort along the beach, no one could hear the anger and heartbreak in the crash of their vast conflict.  

 

She broke his glasses in a scuffle, which he’d accidentally left underneath the bed in their cottage, found and saved for evidence.   Enraged and desperate, Marshal suffocated Sarah to the point of near death.  

 

He dragged her body a quarter of a mile from the cottage, but her dead weight was too much for him to carry to the nearby bridge he had planned to throw her off of, so – he resorted to discarding her nearly lifeless body into a nearby lagoon, the shallow water rising over her face, drowning her last breaths, gnawed at by the harsh salt… and bathing suit cover up, her toes perched in the sand like tiki torches. He lit a cigarette and perhaps said a short eulogy in her honor as he flicked the butt of the Camel Blue into the sand, retrieved by investigators at the crime scene and taken in for evidence. 

 

At the time, Marshal hadn’t noticed that she had one sandal, one earring, and frankly, he didn’t care.  No one would discover her with time to identify the body and they certainly wouldn’t know his next destination.

 

 Oh were that it were true…

 

Marshal spent the night resting for his next destination.  He drank Pina coladas and smoked a few cigarettes which correlated to the one found by the body, prosecutors would confirm.  He packed their suitcases and brought them both to the airport, leaving Sarah’s luggage mysteriously at the baggage claim area, tossing it back onto the revolving turnstile - “Oops, that’s not mine…” he was heard to have said when throwing the heavy suitcase into the sea of luggage. 

 

The same brand of cigarettes he smoked were found in the luggage, as Sarah had thought of all the details to bring – from Tiffany engraved cuff links and silver razor she’d planned to give him as a wedding gift to the massage oils, packs of her Djarum Cloves, his Camel Blues, Bandaids, and Scrabble Board Games – he could not deny his premeditated murder in a court of law and her oblivious devotion to the husband that would he would murder.

 

Marshal left from Santiago to Columbia and was greeted by her brothers Antony and Philippe Vargas.   The brothers did not take a shine to the Kansas City man coming for his sister’s hand in marriage.  They thought he was cocky, dangerous and they regarded him with slit eyed stares and disapproving scowls pursing their lips in disdain. 

 

Angelica was not only blessed with beauty, but she also had intelligence and she was curious as to what took her lover so long to come to her and she wondered why he was in such poor mental shape, unable to endow her with his usual passion and attention she investigated while he slept off his conscious. 

 

The brothers reached out to their network in the Midwest distribution market and discovered he was a bartender, forty-nine, with a long-term girlfriend not the retired, forty-two year old single man with a desire for more children.  He was known for his similarities to the television show “Two and a Half Men’s” character Charlie with regard to carousing and imbibing, the front door of his house a roundabout for nannies and ex-girlfriends, title interchangeable. 

 

“This man has no honor, Angelica.”  Her eldest brother told her. 

“Let us deal with this, you do not need the heartache.”  They insisted.

 

Angelica chartered a flight to Parati to recover from her disappointment.   While she sipped wine and took pouty pictures of herself in revealing necklines with gorgeous coastal backgrounds making Marshal jealous and unsure of her endgame, he was met by the brothers who wanted to take him out – mano e mano – so that they could get to know their future brother in law better.  Marshal obliged.

 

“Marshal, we know you have a beautiful son vacationing in Florida right now at your parents.   See, look there he is.”  The brother showed him a live cam watching the bedroom his son was sleeping in.   “We know you have a girlfriend, I think she’s your wife no?”

 

“I can explain that.”

 

“Amigo, we need no explanations.  We have connections in Chile, we know your girlfriend tripped on the beach and drowned in shallow water on your honeymoon.  You get insurance money for missing persons?  For accidental death?  Or, homicide?”

 

“How much do you want?”

 

“Nothing, we need a favor.”  The Vargas brothers explained that Marshal was going to be their mule, one time only, initiation into the family, he could keep his insurance money and they would pay him $50,000 to fly their product into Kansas City International.  “You say yes, it is all smooth.  You say no, we explore our legal options or murder weapons of choice and maybe kill my sister for bringing you here.” 

 

“We can make your wife disappear if you do the favor.  Think about it, you were in a rush, you were probably sloppy, maybe drunk, it happens.   You will never find a woman from Brazil without familia -cousins, Uncles, they are all connected and they will all kill you for being a stupid American.  We don’t want you in our crew, we have experienced men for the jobs we need.  We don’t need mules, we need loyalty.  I need to know you will do your end despite the risk as we do ours to protect our future brother-in-law.”

 

Marshal nodded.  He understood he could have his slate wiped clean and be with Angelica.  It seemed a little too late to turn back now. 

 

Missouri Mule

 

Marshal had swallowed the balloons as told.  The brothers told him not to drink, nothing.  He got to the airport and could not stop shaking, he drank.  While walking from the bar to the gate, he tripped over a dog carrier and landed in between chairs, slipping between them and hitting his back and stomach hard enough to cause him to yelp.  He got up, looked at the carrier and pointed for the audience in shock or horror and continued on as if nothing had happened.  He handed his ticket to the flight attendant, sweat beading at his brow and put his call light on for a drink.

 

It was during the flight that he began to get clammy, he was having a hard time breathing and felt weak like he was going to pass out.  The bag or bags had broken and he was being poisoned alive, mid-air.

 

Marshal woke up in a hospital.  He was handcuffed to the rail of his bed.  He slowly started to remember the chain of events that led him to the Emergency Room from the airport.  The charges against him were racking up like balls in a bingo tournament.  Letters, numbers, statutes, suspected, alleged, fucked.

 

When confronted by the officers, he said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I want my lawyer.” 

 

Recovery

 

As part of his prison sentence, Marshal is now sober and part of an alcoholics anonymous recovery group.   When he reached the step in which you list your wrongdoings and apologize, he was particularly aware that the people he needed to apologize to the most, were dead.  He could not be reached for comment.  His son visits him regularly.  He is expected to finish his sentence at the age of 81.