'I'm Not Scared. I Have A Gun.'

Jamie Rogers (thanks, Bill): Earlier in the day of Sept. 22, 2012, Dan and Heather Fredenberg were once again feeling in love. Their second wedding anniversary was three days away, and though their first two years of marriage were turbulent, the couple woke up that day gushing. From the morning shift at the drive-thru coffee hut where she worked, Heather texted Dan: "Hey baby have i told you lately how much i love you?!…Thank you for always being by my side.!"

Dan received the text message at the shop where he refurbished classic cars for resale. That day he was prepping a 1978 Z28 Camaro for a new engine. He responded, "Thank u beautiful. I wish u knew how deeply I love u even though i cant always show it." They made plans to meet after Heather got off work to lower the engine into the Camaro's front end.

Even if things had happened differently that night, there is reason to believe their marriage would still be over. Members of Dan's family say their union was on an inexorable path toward dissolution. Heather had already disclosed her relationship with another man to Dan, and Dan had expressed to his father that things were coming apart. But what happened on and in the weeks following the night of Sept. 22 make up the sort of tragedy that transcends reason. Hours after exchanging text messages, Dan would say his final words to Heather as he crumpled to the floor of an empty garage: "Call 911."