Husband always does it, right . You dont find fingerprints, blood, dna in the house. Could somebody else be the killer. I wondered what the man was capable of. So much tragedy, so much heartbreak. We waited for them to figure out that they had it wrong. It was a second of july, 2008, early evening in a fine Old Town called prescott, arizona. Sun going down. Air cooling down to a fine evening warm. Here at the towns historic rodeo grounds, refuges from the Summer Heat and phoenix, two hours and 25 degrees away, settled in to the stands to enjoy the exploits of the cowboys. At the same time, a few miles away on the edge of town, a woman named Carol Kennedy jogged. Some time after 7 00, she turned in at her street, backyard, called Bridle Path, she arrived at the Back Door of the house she intended to inhabit for the rest of her natural days. But of course, Carol Kennedy had no idea that this was going to be her last day and no, it would not be natural at all. Its the biggest loss of my l
Damn it. There was no question who killed her. The mystery was why. I hear the door squeaking. And i hear a grumbling. And i hear the dog rolling. How could you not tell thats your wife . It was dark. I did he just kept seeing it was an accident and he didnt do anything wrong. Others disagreed. We never for a second believed that he didnt know who that was that he was threatening. Was it a tragic mistake . He was broken. Or coldblooded murder . He has fits of emotion, theyre only down in front of the detective. A room too dark to see. Turn the light off. Or a story too hard to believe . Theres nothing accidental about what he did. A shot In The Dark and now in the light of day. The person you know better than anybody else. You cant tell its her when you pull that trigger . Welcome to dateline. There is was a marriage of opposites. She the hard charging businesswoman. He the easygoing contractor. And yet, somehow Debbie Kelly and Lars Itzo made it work. Or so it seemed. Until a gunshot
right? you don t find fingerprints, blood, dna in the house. could somebody else be the killer. i wondered what the man was capable of. so much tragedy, so much heartbreak. we waited for them to figure out that they had it wrong. it was a second of july, 2008, early evening in a fine old town called prescott, arizona. sun going down. air cooling down to a fine evening warm. here at the town s historic rodeo grounds, refuges from the summer heat and phoenix, two hours and 25 degrees away, settled in to the stands to enjoy the exploits of the cowboys. at the same time, a few miles away on the edge of town, a woman named carol kennedy jogged. some time after 7:00, she turned in at her street, backyard, called bridle path, she arrived at the back door of the house she intended to inhabit for the rest of her natural days. but of course, carol kennedy had no idea that this was going to be her last day and no, it would not be natural at all. it s the biggest lo
not. they don t find any dna, fingerprints. nothing of his in the house. did someone else do the real killing? i m wondering what was this man capable of? so much tragedy. so much heartbreak. it was very emotional for me. we just kept waiting for them to figure out that they had it wrong. it was the 2nd of july, 2008. early evening at a fine old town called prescott, arizona. some going down, air cooling down. you ll find the evening warm. here at the town s historic rodeo ground, refugees from phoenix to hundred and 50 miles away settled in the stands. to enjoy the cowboys. at the very same time, at the few hours away on the very edge of town. a woman named carol kennedy, was on the sometime after seven, she turned in that are big backyard called bridle path. matching the stone that was in the front yard to mark the turn of the millennium. but of course carol kennedy has no idea that this was going to be her last day. but now, it would not be natural at all
there s no possible way he could do this on purpose. and i m natalie morales. and this is dateline. she was crying and crying. i said, what s wrong? and she says, that he s dead. we all wanted to believe that it was an accident. a dark house, a husband with a gun. a wife dead on the floor. make sure that she is still breathing. oh, i don t think she is, damn it. there was no question who killed her. the mystery was why. i hear the door squeaking. and i hear a grumbling. and i hear the dog rolling. how could you not tell that s your wife? it was dark. i did he just kept seeing it was an accident and he didn t do anything wrong. others disagreed. we never for a second believed that he didn t know who that was that he was threatening. was it a tragic mistake? he was broken. or cold-blooded murder? he has fits of emotion, they re only down in front of the detective. a room too dark to see. turn the light off. or a story too hard to believe?