It should have been just another in a long string of 911 calls to 2430 West Eleventh. Most of the patrol officers had been there at one time or another because about twice a month, the neighbor who lived at 2440 West Eleventh would call 911 and say her neighbors were screaming at each other.
At least two patrol officers would show up and talk to Rachael Frayser and Dan Moyers to find out what the problem was. It was always the same problem and that problem was how Dan treated Rachael.
When the officers got there, they'd separate Rachael and Dan, and then talk to them about what was going on. Rachel's story was always about the same.
"He came home late tonight and I smelled pussy on his dick when I sucked it. He'd been fuckin' some other woman again. I've told him a hundred times if my pussy isn't tight enough, he could fuck me in the ass. That's how he usually fucks me, but about twice a month, he comes home smelling like pussy and wants me to suck his dick. I smelled it on his dick tonight.
"When I started yellin' that he's been fuckin' another woman, he told me to shut the fuck up 'cause we ain't married and he can fuck anybody he wants. I told him to get the fuck out, but he said he won't and he slapped me in the face. I just want him to go away."
The officer talking to Dan would get another version of the story from Dan.
"Rachael's got a pussy so big you'd have to tie a board to your ass so you didn't fall in when you fucked her there. It's 'cause she's so fuckin' fat. I mean, look at her tits. They's big as soccer balls and her belly hangs all the way down to the bed when I fuck her from behind. Her ass is so big I can't much more'n get my cock in her pussy anyway. I like them big tits and I don't mind her belly, but I can't take that sloppy pussy.
"I fuck her in the ass instead and she likes that, but me, I gotta have my cock in a tight pussy once in a while. We ain't married or nothin' so I don't see what she's got to bitch about. She keeps threatenin' to throw me out like she did tonight, but I ain't leavin'. The fuckin' house is mine, not hers. If anybody's gonna leave, it's gonna be her fuckin' fat ass and that's what I told her. Slapped her fat face too. I don't hold with no woman sassin' me like that.
In cases like this, the police really can't do much except try to get the couple to separate until they cool off. Since it's usually the woman who bears the brunt of it, they'll try to get her to leave and go to a shelter. If that's not possible, they'll ask the woman if she'll swear out a complaint against the other.
In Rachael's case it was always pretty obvious that she'd been hit in some way, so the officer would ask her if she wanted to have Dan arrested. She'd always start to cry then.
"No, because I love him and I don't want to send him to jail. I just want him to promise me that he won't fuck other women again."
Since at that time the state didn't have a law that makes it mandatory in the case of a domestic dispute to arrest the person using violence against the other, the patrol officers had no choice. They'd get the couple together and talk to them until Dan finally said he wouldn't go with another woman again if Rachael would just suck his cock when he wanted her to. Rachael would start to cry again and then put her arms around Dan's neck. The patrol officers would leave then and back at the station they'd record the 911 call and what they did.
That would last for about two weeks or so, and then the neighbor would call 911 again.
The 911 call before this one indicated Dan was accelerating his abuse of Rachael. When the patrol officers got there, her lip was bleeding and she had a bruise on her arm. The officers went through their usual questioning and then told Rachael this wasn't going to stop until she did something about Dan. This time Rachael said she'd file a complaint. The officers took her complaint, arrested Dan, and took him to the station.
The afternoon of the next day, Rachael went to the station and said she wanted to retract her complaint. Two female officers tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't listen. An hour after she got there, she'd retracted the complaint and left with Dan.
It should have been taken as a warning that Dan told the officer who released him from the holding cell that "The cops better not try to arrest me again", but police officers hear that same threat from lots of people they arrest. It's a threat made in anger and usually doesn't mean anything. On this last 911 call, it did mean something.
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When the neighbor called 911, she said her neighbors were fighting again so that wasn't unusual. What was unusual was that the call was made at two in the afternoon instead of one or two in the morning. Dispatch asked for a car in the vicinity to go to the address and investigate the situation. As it was, there were three cars within five minutes and all three officers responded.
Terry Meadows arrived first and was walking up the walk to the front door when Jamie French and Todd Adams pulled up. They were just starting toward the walk when the door to the house opened. Neither Jamie nor Todd saw the shotgun barrel until they heard the blast and saw Terry fall down. The second shot came so quickly they didn't have time to find cover either. That shot hit Todd in the legs and he went down. Jamie drew his sidearm and fired three rounds at the front door of the house as he quickly made his way to behind the tree on the left side of the walk.
The shooting stopped then. Jamie radioed for backup and the EMT's, then yelled for the shooter to put down his gun and come out with his hands in the air. Nothing happened for about a minute. Then, the door opened a little wider and a woman came out with her hands in the air. Jamie instructed her to get down on her stomach and put her hands behind her back. After she complied, Jamie yelled for the shooter to come out.
The woman turned her head so she could see Jamie, and then sobbed, "Dan can't come out. You shot him."
Two more cars had arrived by then, the shift supervisor and another patrolman. The officers were crouched behind their cars with their sidearms drawn. When they heard the woman, Warren Matthews, the shift supervisor, yelled at Jamie and asked if he could see anything. Jamie peered around the tree trunk, then yelled back that he couldn't. Warren told the other patrol officer to drive around to the alley behind the house and tell them when he was in position before he and Jamie entered the front door.
That had all happened during the five minutes after Terry had started up the walk. It was about then that the first EMT truck pulled up and the two EMT's got out. Warren told them to stay behind the police cars until they'd secured the scene. Then he began working his way toward the right side of the house. He silently thanked the person who had planted the trees in the front yard decades ago. They were pretty far apart, but by running from one to the next, Warren made it to the corner of the house.
Jamie had also worked his way to the other corner of the house. Together, they began inching along the wall toward the front door. Both had to duck down under a window so they wouldn't be seen, but a few seconds later Jamie took a quick look through the open door and then turned back to Warren.
"Looks like he is down. He's laying on the floor and the shotgun is about three feet from his hand. He's not moving either."
Warren nodded and then stepped toward the door. He leveled his service pistol at the man on the floor as Jamie quickly stepped inside. A few seconds later, Jamie picked up the shotgun and motioned for Warren to come in.
