The following Monday afternoon as the staff gathered in my office for our weekly meeting, it seemed as if the clusters of purple-and-yellow wildflowers outside my window had sprung up overnight. By that point in time, we knew who all the players were. We knew what happened and where it happened, but details on the how and why and exactly when were still trickling in as the investigation continued. Additional information from the Trotter siblings filled in more of the blanks, but, as in all cases where the culprits took themselves out, a host of secrets went with them and we were left to speculate. The more I learned, the more fascinating it was to realize that even now, forty years later, the long arm of the so-called Higgins family curse was still reaching out to ensnare innocent peop
