Needle Work: Battery Acid, Heroin, and Double Murder(56)

Collier used to tell Giles the story of his past with the gangs in California and his “adventures” with them. He claimed to have killed a lot of people. Carol figured he was trying to scare her, to keep her in line, but she always tried to act nonchalant about it. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was afraid of him. But she was now, and for good reason.

Tim was a pretty jealous guy. Carol had started seeing him when she was still married. Maybe he figured that if she could cheat on her husband once, she could do it again.

On October 4, 1997, the kids were staying the night with their aunt. Tim was still in California and Carol was home alone. Having nothing to do, Carol tooled on over to South Boulevard Station. Nancy’s shift was over at about eleven o’clock and they were going to hang out. Hang out and get drunk—sounded like a good plan to the two best friends. And that’s what they did.

After Nancy’s shift was over, they hung at the bar, got really wasted, and got into the car to go home afterward. Before Carol could take off, she got a call on her cell phone.

It was Tommy, a male friend of hers from work. They had talked earlier in the day about possibly getting together. Carol explained that she and Nancy were on the way back to her place from the bar and they were drunk. Could he follow them home to make sure they got home in one piece?

In less than ten minutes, Tommy arrived and followed Carol and Nancy home. When they got there, Carol invited him in for a nightcap. They sat around the table in the living room. About midnight, Tim called from his mother’s house in Sacramento. That was Nancy’s cue.

Nancy closed the bedroom door, but not all the way, hustled Tommy out to his car, and then came back into the living room. Tim had heard the talking, muttering and movement in the background. He wanted to know who was there.

Carol said, “Just me and Nancy. We been to the bar and I’m drunk.”

“Carol, who is at the house?” Tim repeated edgily.

“Me and Nancy.”

“You are lying. I know you are lying.”

She said nothing.

“Who is at the house?” Tim demanded.

“Okay, me, Nancy and Tommy.”

Right away, he was upset. There was a conflict of a few months’ standing between the two men. Tommy didn’t want her to talk to Tim, and Tim didn’t want her to talk to Tommy. And she didn’t know why that was, just that they didn’t like each other.

Tim was more upset that she had lied about Tommy being at the house than the fact that the guy was there. Carol tried to explain, but it didn’t work. Tim was pissed. He had just helped kill the woman’s husband and now she was lying to him.

Would she watch his back, or would she kill him? Tim asked. Maybe she would have to watch her back? The only answer, Tim explained, was to stay together.

“All we have is each other,” said Tim.

“And because I lied about who was at my house, you don’t know if you can trust me anymore?”

That was it exactly.

During the conversation, Carol Giles’s voice got loud, loud enough to be heard in the living room, where Nancy was sitting. And Carol forgot Nancy was there and possibly hearing what was said.

“Tim, you know, I killed Jessie. I’m the one that injected him with the insulin.”

“But I’m still in trouble ’cause it was something I helped you with,” Tim answered.

Without him, he knew, there would have been no murder. But she told him that he didn’t kill Jessie, she did. She was the one who injected the heroin-laced insulin. Tim countered that he was the “mastermind” of the murder plot.

“The mastermind always gets more time than the person that did it,” he told her. They would both go to jail if the cops found out.

“But you didn’t do it. I’m the one that injected him, so that actually makes me the one that killed him.”

They dropped it at that and continued to talk every few days until the homesickness and separation finally got to Tim. After a few false starts, he left the coast to drive eastward. It took him three days and when he arrived back in Michigan, he strolled in. He hesitated when he saw Nancy.

He gave Carol a hug but continued to look at Nancy strangely. Later, in their bedroom, Tim said that he didn’t trust Nancy. During their phone conversation when they talked about killing Jessie, they were loud enough that Nancy could hear them in the next room.

Carol knew where this was going. She vehemently denied that Nancy had heard anything. She claimed she wasn’t that loud. There was no way Nancy could have heard. But, Tim explained rationally, on his end he had tried the same method of maintaining privacy, closing the door, and his mom had heard anyway.

“How do you know that?” Carol questioned.

Because his mom had told him so, Tim said.

It was a chilling answer because of what it implied. If his mom had heard their conversation with the door closed, then Nancy must have, too.

“No, c’mon!” said Carol.

“I tell you, Nancy knows!”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“She does,” Tim said with finality.

It was a death sentence.

“Nancy knows that we killed Jessie,” Tim stated matter-of-factly. Carol said she didn’t, but Tim waved her off. “She was in the house when we had that conversation [on the phone] last month from California where we talked about killing Jessie.”