Washington State, his father’s attention and inappropriate touching were among her main reasons for wanting to get away. He sometimes touched her breasts and then acted as if it was accidental.
She was still nervous when she had to visit him and Josh’s siblings on holidays, or when Steve came to West Valley City for a visit. Her father-in-law seemed to dangle Josh like a puppet on a string. Every time now when Josh ended a phone conversation with his dad, it seemed that she and Josh had a fight.
Susan felt safe enough to confide information about Steve Powell’s “weirdness” to Kiirsi Hellewell. “A few months after they moved here,” Kiirsi remembered, “Susan told me the real reason they moved to Utah was to get away from her father-in-law. I just kind of stared at her, thinking I know people have troubles with their in-laws sometimes, [but wondering] why such a look of disgust and almost hatred [came over] her face—considering she was such a kind and loving person.
“She told me that he ‘hit on her,’ that he tried to kiss her, and that she caught him watching her get dressed one day.”
Kiirsi sensed that Steve Powell was actually obsessed with Susan. “Susan couldn’t stand him. She described him as the ‘devil.’ ”
Given a choice, Susan said she didn’t even want to be in the same state with Steve Powell.
Susan was figuratively “between a rock and a hard place.”
Divorce is a rarity in LDS mores, far more than most other religions. A family, once bonded, is supposed to last for life and all eternity. And Susan struggled mightily with the thought of divorcing Josh. Even though her bishop had seemed shocked to learn of the way she was being abused and overpowered by Josh and offered help from the church, Susan didn’t think he would go so far as to advise her to break up her marriage. Her LDS stake had helped her with money for counseling, and with groceries, yes—but divorce? She thought, Never!
But she was torn more than anyone but a few close friends realized.
“We saw how controlling Josh was and the horrible way he was treating her,” Kiirsi said. “She just kept saying, ‘I don’t want to live my life being miserable, but I want to make sure I have done everything I absolutely can to save my marriage before I walk away. But if it comes to that point and I know I do have to leave, [then] I have a clean conscience and [will know] I did everything I could to try and make it work.’ ”
Still, it was more than Susan’s religious convictions that kept her with Josh. She lived in the grip of terror. He had promised her there would be hell to pay if she attempted to leave him or take his boys away.
“Every moment I step back and take stock of what I’m dealing with it feels like a never ending cycle,” she emailed, “but I’m too afraid of the consequences, losing my kids, him kidnapping [them], divorce, or actions worse on his part if I take a stand on one of his ultimatums . . . or [like] cutting off his access to my paycheck.”
Susan told her friends that she had written a will and hidden it in her desk.
Just in case.
Later, they would look for it.
* * *
And then, almost suddenly, things simmered down in the bizarre relationship that was Susan and Josh Powell’s marriage. July 2008 had been the worst month. Had Susan left Josh then, no one knows what might have happened. But she still clung to her marriage, to the memory of the man she’d wed seven years before.
The romantic feelings that had marked their first year or so together had dried up. It was very rare for Josh to approach her for physical contact—much less sexual intercourse. Susan tried to look attractive and she had kept her figure. She was still very pretty. Josh was angry when she bought makeup or hair products, but she was able to buy a few things to enhance her looks. It didn’t matter; Josh was unceasingly cold and disinterested in her sexually.
She believed that he was