What Happened to Tara Grant?

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member FDIC. You know, she has been missing for a week now, seven days.
No one has seen or heard from Tara Grant in more than a week. As of today, Tara Grant has been missing for 18 days.
County Sheriff's Department says it will do an all-out search for Tara this weekend. Loving dad, successful mom.
Beautiful family. They were the people next door.
If anybody knows, just say something. This is a court-ordered search warrant.
Should you be a suspect in this investigation? I don't know. I saw an empty shell.
In all honesty, I saw an animal. Sheriff Mark Hackle confirms numerous body parts are found.
I've never seen violence like this. North of Detroit's seamless sprawl of strip malls and subdivisions is a 4,500-acre woodland preserve.
In winter, a bare forest that still belongs to the deer, coyote, and occasional trail walkers like Sheila Werner. On that particular day, it was about 40 degrees, and I decided that I was going to walk through the woods.
What she spotted that last day of February tucked under a tree looked like more than litter, a one-gallon Ziploc bag. Because there was snow on the ground, it stood out like a sore thumb.
I mean, there was bright red blood in the bag. Sheila picked up the baggie.
She thought the sheriff's office might want to know about it, what with all the coverage on the news about that missing woman. Not one call on a cell phone, not one hit on a credit card.
She has simply vanished. The story of Tara Grant, the vanished wife and mother, had become as regular a fixture on the Detroit news stations as sports and weather.
If anybody knows, just say something. Just tell us.
Call. Call me.
Call the police. Call somebody.

The missing woman's husband, Stephen Grant, on the local news made almost daily,

teary on the verge of angry appeals to his wife of more than 10 years to come home.

If not for him, then for their two young children, a girl six and a boy four.

Please call anybody. Call the police.
Call me. Call my in-laws.
Call someone. The family lived in a comfortable home northeast of Detroit.
Tara was the breadwinner, thriving in a six-figure management position with an international construction and engineering firm. The most recent job site was in Puerto Rico.
She'd been commuting between Detroit and San Juan for five months. Stephen Grant worked in his father's small-time two-man machine shop and looked after the kids while Tara was on the road.
He prided himself on being a Mr. Mom at home and a soccer dad on the field, according to reporter Amber Hunt.
Took them to all their appointments and soccer games and appreciated getting the accolades for that. And from the time he walked into the Macomb County Sheriff's Office on Valentine's Day 2007 to report his wife missing, his story never changed.
As he gave the spare details of her disappearance to the desk sergeant in the lobby, he may not have noticed the huge plainclothes detective walking by. But that officer remembered Stephen Grant because of the fragment of conversation he overheard.
And I heard him actually say she's been gone for five days now. Detective Brian Kozlowski was still wondering why the guy had waited five days to report his wife missing when his desk phone rang and sure enough, he'd been assigned the case.
His lieutenant sounding urgent. I want you to get on it immediately.
By now, Detective Kozlowski had the report from the desk officer who'd taken down the husband's story. This story.
After a week-long business trip, Grant said, his wife Tara had come home the previous Friday night, February 9th. No sooner had she unpacked her bag when she announced she'd be going back to Puerto Rico early, Sunday rather than Monday.
Grant cried foul. She needed to be home more and traveling for her job less.
Argument ensued according to Mr. Grant and he last heard her, he thought was on a phone say, I'll be out in a minute.
She left the house, he looked out the window, and a black sedan was leaving. The husband agreed to meet the detective and his partner at the Grant home the night he reported her missing.
Five days after, he said she'd walked out in a huff. Mr.
Grant answered the door, and I could tell he was afraid that we were there, whereas he's our complainant, we're here to serve him and help him, but he's afraid of us. One of the detective's first questions was why Grant had waited so long to report his wife missing.
The husband replied that they'd had fights before when Tara walked out for a day or so, but she'd always come back. We're immediately trying to establish her reason for leaving.
Was it an argument? Was something prearranged? Detective Kozlowski proceeded to ask Grant about the health of his marital relationship, potential lovers, and potential enemies, while the other detective, Sergeant Pam McClain, was with the two children and their au pair, a 19-year-old German girl, Verena Dirkus, a live-in who looked after them because of Tara's hectic travel schedule. I talked briefly with her for a few minutes, asked her about the night that Ms.
Grant was supposed to be had left. Verena, the au pair, said she'd been out of the house the night the fight occurred and didn't see what happened.
As the detectives put away their notebooks, they asked if Grant would come down to the sheriff's office the following day for a lie detector test, and he agreed. He asked me, do you think that I'm going to be in trouble for any of this? And I said, trouble meaning what, Steve? He said, you know I didn't have anything to do with this.
And that's when he showed emotion. He put his hands over his mouth and he started to cry.
At the sheriff's office, detectives were finding the Terragrant's trail five days after she reportedly fought with her husband and walked out was growing stone cold. She wasn't using her cell phone or laptop or personal credit cards.
She hadn't talked to her family. Still, investigators knew that she was a sophisticated international traveler, well-equipped to take care of herself on the road.
Maybe she was just cooling off somewhere after a heated confrontation.

The detectives also learned her husband was trying to reach her.

Because when they retrieved Tara's voicemails after the night of the disappearance,

they heard Steve's angry voice. But anxious as he professed to be for help in locating her, Stephen Grant never did take that lie detector test the next day.
He had a lawyer who had advised him to stop talking. Stop talking to law enforcement, maybe, but not the media.
We appreciate you guys. We appreciate all the people who've been helping.
Amber Hunt, crime and courts reporter, was surprised that Grant was constantly calling newsrooms and reporters on their cells. Initially, you think, oh, well, the guy really wants to find his wife.
Then after a while, maybe that's not what he was looking for. Meanwhile, Detective Kozlowski and the investigative team watched the live shots and took careful notes.
You're thinking we have foul play here. Absolutely.
Everybody gets into an argument with their spouse. Tara would say things, I would say things.
Was it bad? No, not even close. According to her husband Steve, Tara Grant stormed out the door of their suburban Detroit home after a fight and hadn't been seen since.
It wasn't until days later that Tara's sister, Alicia, got the news at her home near Columbus, Ohio, from her mother. She said, I've gotten a phone call from Steve, and Tara's missing.
He hasn't heard from her in five days. Alicia's stander for her was almost two years younger than her sister.
Like Tara, she had two young kids, and knew that it was ominously unlike her sister to walk out of her life, even for a marriage time out.

Tara would never leave her children and not let us know where she was,

and she would never miss anything with her employer.

In 10 years of working for the same company, she didn't miss a day.

When Alicia talked to her brother-in-law, Steve, it was the 13th of February,

the evening before he finally reported Tara as a missing person on Valentine's Day.

The conversation that we had started out, you know, with him telling the story.

And it very quickly changed tones.

And he said to me, he said, you know what?

He said, she's probably shacked up in a hotel.

And these are exactly what?

Shacked up?

Shacked up in a hotel around the corner with some guy.

And I remember at that instant, I said, Stephen, I said, she could be in the slums of Detroit in serious trouble.

She could be dead.

I didn't trust this man.

Something was off. I didn't know what.

Alicia, in truth, had never been thrilled with her sister's husband.

A smug underachiever, she thought.

A guy who bellowed when he talked.

He always had to have the last word, no matter what. Tara and Stephen met at Michigan State.
A 4-H girl going for a business degree and a suburban Detroit boy with an eye on politics. When they married and kids came along...
Oh, she was ecstatic. Lindsay was the sparkle of her eye.
Alicia and Tara had grown up together as farm kids on Michigan's rural upper peninsula. We had old McDonald's farm to a T.
We had everything. Horses, you know, sheep, cows, pigs, goats, guinea hens, rabbits, chickens, turkeys, geese, you name it, we had it.
Tara and I growing up, we had a list. We had a list of things that we had to accomplish in the day, and if the list wasn't done when my dad got home, there were consequences to be paid.
My husband. Hi, Steve.
And one activity on the list, more fun than sure, was making maple syrup, something Tara loved to do even as an adult. She was happy.
She was a happy kid. She was my leaning post.
When I had something very, very crucial to talk about that was life-altering, Tara was the first person I would call. Her last call with her big sister came on February 9th, 40 minutes of girl talk.
Tara was in the Newark airport waiting for her connecting flight home. She seemed upbeat.
Mm-hmm. Did she ever say, I've got to turn around and go back to Puerto Rico on Sunday? No.
In fact, she laid out all of her plans to me, which was to return to Puerto Rico on that Monday. And now Tara was missing.
Alicia and her husband drove five hours to Detroit to meet with the detective named Kozlowski and to paper the metro area with missing person posters. Saturday night, the 17th, they made plans to go over to Stephen's house for takeout pizza.
We drove up the driveway and Steve came out of the garage and proceeded to hug me in a very uncomfortable fashion. I tried to pull away and he would not allow me to pull away.
He buried his head in my shoulder and he was crying. Grant's tears became very familiar to TV news watchers, but after a few days in the spotlight, they dried up.
He began badmouthing his missing wife in interviews, like this one with Hank Winchester of Detroit's NBC affiliate. A couple of years ago, Tara and I did have a problem in our marriage with, I don't want to call it an infidelity, but pretty close to an infidelity.
What's pretty close to an infidelity? I don't understand what that means. It was going there.
He started belittling Tara as an AWOL mom, more concerned with her career and frequent flyer miles than her family. I get that she has to travel for business, but too much is too much, and that was too much.
Alicia, meanwhile, felt compelled to speak up for her sister in interviews, portraying Tara not as some one-dimensional career woman, but a loving mother who successfully balanced both work and family. You know, she's a family-driven, career-driven woman.
And the more Stephen Grant appeared on the news playing for sympathy, the more divided public opinion became about him. He was a victim or he was evil and there really wasn't much in between.
Along the way, his poor me image as the spouse possibly cheated on took a big hit. An old girlfriend of Grant leaked some recent emails that she'd received from Stephen two weeks before Tara went missing.
Not so subtle come-ons like, I'm still in need of some excitement in my day. Wink, wink.
I just think of marriage vows like speed limits. Sometimes you have to break them.
Meanwhile, the agency that placed the young au pair in the grand home became so uncomfortable with one of its girls being in the midst of a publicly messy domestic situation, it pulled Verena, the kid's nanny, out of the house against her will. She returned home to Germany on February 21st.
Reporter Amber Hunt knew why this juicy psychodrama about a suburban family had hit such a nerve. They were the people next door.
Nice house, good kids. Yeah.
Loving dad, successful mom, beautiful family. But could reporters or anyone really find out what was going on under a family's roof? The husband in particular was proving difficult to get a fix on.
The people that we came across pretty much acknowledged that he was kind of a strange bird. He didn't bring home nearly the amount of money that she did.
So I don't know

how that plays into somebody's psyche when you're pretty much left working for your dad and raising the kids. Unobtrusively, the sheriff's office, meanwhile, had put surveillance teams on Grant, watching his house, studying his demeanor in security cam video from the mini mart where Every morning he bought the local papers full of news about the case.

The Macomb County detective team had no physical evidence and few leads, yet they had a gut feeling about the husband. His story, including her supposedly making a phone call and leaving in a black sedan, was full of holes.
The car service didn't work out. Nobody picked her up.
The credit cards, nothing going to be used. So it was pretty much, we're at a dead end.
With no fresh leads to run down, without the physical evidence they'd need to execute a search warrant of the house, the sheriff, Mark Hackle, announced to the public that they were going to search the sprawling park out by the Grant home over the weekend.

We realized the public was in tune to this case. They really wanted to know what was going on,

so we needed their help. Someone out there listening to the sheriff was a dental hygienist,

a person who'd adopted the narrow two-lane road that passed her house for litter cleanup chores.

But her time in the case of the missing Tara Grant hadn't arrived. Not just yet.
Hey, this is Will Arnett, host of Smartless. Smartless is a podcast with myself and Sean Hayes and Jason Bateman, where each week one of us reveals a mystery guest of the other two.
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Eligible GLP-1 patients typically lose 1 to 2 pounds per week in their first six months with Moji when combined with a healthy lifestyle. Ten days after she was reported missing, reserves and deputies from the Sheriff's department swarmed the vast Stoney Creek Metro Park, looking for any signs of Tara Grant, the 34-year-old wife and mother who'd supposedly walked out on her family.
It was just a hunch, and we just didn't want to sit back. For six hours, more than 150 searchers with sniffer dogs on the ground and a helicopter above scoured a three-mile grid of the park.
Why? Simply because in his nonstop interviews in the media, Stephen Grant, a missing woman's husband, talked about Stony Creek a lot, maybe too much. The main reason we bought the house was because the park was there.
I mountain bike out there, I run out at Stony Creek all the time. We loved that park.
But at the end of the long day, the searchers came up empty. Sheriff asked the community to keep its eyes open.
What we'd like people to do is take a look in some of the wooded areas and if they happen to see something, call us immediately. The missing woman's sister, Alicia, had gotten a heads up the night before that the sheriff's office was going to be looking for Tara's body.
At that moment, reality set in. I remember getting off the phone and going downstairs to where my children were and just sobbing with my little son across the room from me, standing there as startled as he could ever be.
And I said, Bud, Mom needs a hug. And that little boy came running to me as fast as he could and jumped up in my lap.
It was four days later, on the Wednesday after the weekend search, when that dental hygienist, Sheila Warner, decided to go for a tromp through the woods less than a mile from her house, a section of the same park the sheriff's office had searched. I had no intention of finding anything.
But as she came up the rise back toward the dirt road, she saw it, a one-gallon Ziploc bag. I had a mitten on and I went over and I picked up the bag and you could see blood just pooling to the bottom of the bag.
I knew about the disappearance of Tara Grant, but I had no idea what it could be. So she brought it home, placed it on top of her freezer in the garage, and called the sheriff's office.
So when the deputy got out there, he found a Ziploc bag with some gloves in it, some metal shavings and stuff that was concerning. Metal shavings? Grant worked in a machine shop.
That and the determination that it was human blood in the baggie were the findings they needed to get a search warrant. So that gave you probable cause to go to Grant's house? Yes.
proper search. Two days later, at 5 p.m.
on Friday, March 2nd, detectives and crime scene techs from the Sheriff's Department arrived to process the Grant home, but with modest expectations. After all, Tara has been missing for three weeks already.
Reporting crews from the NBC station WDIV-TV are also on the scene. Oh, God, he's getting out of the car.
He's getting out of the car. Sean, shoot.
A camera rolls as Grant is taken from his vehicle and patted down. They're patting him down.
Wait, wait. But significantly, he has not been placed under arrest.
And at that point, we didn't have probable cause to arrest Mr. Grant.
The other crew, meanwhile, is getting ready to set up for an interview.

Stephen Grant has asked reporter Hank Winchester to come out to the house.

And he wanted me to interview him in the garage of the house. And I asked him, why the garage?

He said, well, the garage will give you a look into what I saw that day, because I was looking

out one of the windows when I saw Tara leave in the town car but the interview never happened. Never happened and certainly not in the garage because as police video technicians inside were methodically searching the house outside Stephen Grant was simply walking away getting out of Dodge.
He even looked back as though he couldn't believe no one was stopping him. What they found in the house 90 minutes later is Detective Kozolowski's stomach-churning story.
By then, he and five other detectives had retreated to the garage to get out from underfoot of the CSI types working in the house. Detective Kozolowski eyeballed the usual garage clutter to see if anything had changed since his first and only visit back on February 14th.
And I saw a green container that I was confident had not been there on the 14th. It looked out of place to me immediately.
There was a black bag, a black garbage bag in it. And I opened up the bag and there was another bag in it.
So I went through each bag, ripping them apart with my hands, and I stuck my bare hand in there, and it was moist. And I saw what I thought was blood and plastic, and then I could see, you know, what was a bra.
The detectives backed away to let a crime scene tech confirm what no one could quite believe. One of the evidence techs opened up the lid, cut the bag further, and spread apart the bag, and there was a female human torso.
Your words in court were, I think, what the f***? Exactly. A plastic bin in the garage containing a female torso.
No head, no limbs. Did it all click together for you at the moment? It's Tara.
She's murdered. He dismembered her and left her in the garage.
Once I looked at Lieutenant D'Argan, she said that's her. I actually just left the scene.

That's when the detective got his second shock of the night.

He discovered Stephen Grant had fled and had an hour and a half lead on him.

How angry are you?

I'm very angry. I'm going to get him.

This guy's taking a walk on you.

Yes, and I'm going to go find him.

Stephen Grant was on the run. The manhunt was on.
I've never seen violence like this. The detective had found the missing Tara Grant, but only a part of her.
Just the woman's torso in a plastic storage bin inside the garage of the home she shared with her husband and two children. Alicia, Tara's sister, had returned to her home in Ohio by the time the awful discovery was made.
And my phone rang about 11 p.m. and it was Sheriff Hackle.
And he said, Alicia, do you feel like Steve would ever harm you? The sheriff didn't tell Alicia that they'd found her sister, but he was concerned for her well-being because Grant was on the loose. He insisted that she come back to Michigan immediately.
And I said, Mark, I said, it's 11 o'clock. You want us to drive to Michigan? We have two small children.
He said, yes. For your safety? For your safety.
At the sheriff's office the next morning, Alicia heard the incomprehensible news. Her sister not only murdered, but dismembered.
Then she had to tell her parents that their firstborn was gone. I don't even know what I said other than Tara's dead.

Tara's dead.

Stephen Grant had simply walked away from his home before Detective Kozlowski discovered the torso.

Now, a day later, the investigators were getting some good clues on his whereabouts.

Information pinging off cell phone towers told them that the cell phone Grant was using was headed north. They'd learned he was in a yellow Dodge Dakota truck borrowed from an unsuspecting friend.
Then, a thoroughly unexpected and enormous break. The detective's desk phone rang.
I recognized it right away as being an international call. At the other end was a voice saying, this is Verena Dierkes.
Verena, the Grant's former au pair calling from her home in Germany. She was crying.
I had the sense to reach for my recorder and record the conversation. Everything she had was a lie.
Everything. And I believed everything.
And for the next 30 minutes, what a story she had to tell. Verena, in the middle of the night for her, was saying that Grant had just called her and confessed to killing his wife.

He told me it was an accident.

He said she smacked me and she yelled at me.

And I pushed her back and she banged her head and was dead.

The 19-year-old Verena swore to the detective that she'd always believe Stephen's story that his wife had walked out.

She had no idea she said that he'd actually kill Tara.

And the detective told Verena he believed her.

But he gently confronted her about stories told to him by the au pair's friends in the Detroit area.

Rumors about her and Grant.

Is there anything you want to tell me about your relationship with Steve?

There is nothing. Are you absolutely certain about that, Brina? Yes.
Gradually, the cop coaxed the truth out of the teenager bit by bit. We liked each other.
We liked each other more than we should. And it started about four weeks ago.
How did it start? I don't know. It was just talking.
I don't know. It was maybe because terror was always gone.
And then it just happened. But it was never physical, never.
I bet. I swear.
Challenged on that point, Verena admitted a little more. And then, after further probing, admitted a lot more.

She'd had oral sex with her employer.

But it was just one time, and it was before that happened to Tara.

It was before February the 9th.

Okay, was it mutual oral sex or just him?

It was just him.

Was Kozlowski hearing motivation for the murder? Did Stephen Grant kill his wife so he could be with a cute young nanny who was so good with the children? Meanwhile, the intense manhunt for Grant was still very much ongoing, and Verena provided the detective a solid lead.

She told him Grant's call to her had registered on her caller ID as coming from the 989 Area Code,

a big chunk of northern Michigan. Verena was certain he intended to kill himself.

And in yet another call from Grant that night, this one to his sister near Detroit,

he even gave the name of the remote cabins where he intended to take his life. The sister called the detective.
So I basically googled it and it showed up Wagashant State Cabins in Wilderness State Park in northern Michigan. Quickly, police found the abandoned yellow truck, followed the footprints in the snow, and there under a tree at 6.30 Sunday morning was a dead tired Stephen Grant, suffering from hypothermia, but very much alive.
Do you think he was trying to kill himself? I personally think it entered his mind, but when it really came down to it, he lacked the courage to do it. A Coast Guard rescue helicopter was called to the scene to reel in Grant and deliver him to a hospital.
He may have been exhausted, but Stephen Grant still hadn't tired of talking about himself. He was about to tell everything.
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when combined with a healthy lifestyle. Search teams went back to Stony Creek Park the day after Tara Grant's torso had been discovered in a bin in the family garage.
Boy, when they started walking through that field, there were some pretty gruesome discoveries. Not far from where the hiker had come upon the bloody Ziploc bag, they began finding blood, hair, and dismembered body parts scattered about, under fallen tree limbs, down in hollows.
Grant had cut his wife into 14 pieces. Police found 11 parts, but they never did recover all the remains.
Animals had gotten there first, they said. With his client in custody and the man's wife in pieces, Stephen Grant's lawyer announced he was no longer representing Mr.
Mom. Grant himself was in a northern Michigan hospital under guard, recovering from exposure when he asked if he could talk to Detective Kozlowski.
The detective got on the line, and after a few seconds, Grant made a surprising proposal. Come up, we'll talk.
Come right up, we'll talk. Yep, me and you.
I mean, here's his lawyers walked off the case. You don't know how long you're going to have this window of opportunity with him.
Exactly. Are you breaking speed limits to get up there? Absolutely.
Five hours later, Kozlovsky and Detective McClain, the two who'd made the original house call on Grant, were mirandizing the husband in his hospital bed after pressing record on their tape machine. You in fact understand that you are in fact under arrest right now for the murder of your wife, Terry.
Yes. As though shooting the breeze over coffee in a diner,

Grant told the detectives it started with a fight in the bedroom on Friday, February 9th.

Tara saying she was going back to Puerto Rico early.

Grant angrily accusing her of not spending enough time at home.

She said, I got to do what I have to do in my job.

It's none of your business.

So she started to turn around and I grabbed her wrist. She said, just stop.
I said, you're not going anywhere. I said, we're's none of your business.
So she started to turn around, and I grabbed her wrist.

She said, just stop.

I said, you're not going anywhere.

I said, we're going to finish this conversation.

And she slapped me.

And after that, I don't really remember what happened.

She fell, and then she banged back her head on the floor,

and then she said something, like, that's it.

I'm going to take kids.

You're going to be homeless.

You're a piece of s***.

And I choked her.

In the bathroom?

Thank you. and I take kids even if you're homeless you're a piece of shit and I choked her in the bathroom? on the carpet she had started to get back up when I put my hand on her neck but I grabbed her neck and choked her were you looking at her face? no, I covered her face up what did you cover her face up with? it was a grey underwear and a gray t-shirt.
How did you know that she had died? When she stopped moving. And I was worried.
I was really worried. The two children, Grant said, were in their rooms down the hall from their murdered mother.
The au pair was out. Authorities would say later Grant text-messaged her, you owe me a kiss, and left a note reading the same on her pillow.
Grant said he returned to his wife's body, tied a belt around the neck, and dragged the corpse down the stairs and out to the garage. He was going to hide the body in the back of Tara's Isuzu trooper.
I dropped her. She was too hard to pick up.
And the. He told the teenager the story for the first time about a fight and Tara leaving in a black sedan.
And I kept thinking, and you gotta have a body in the crotch. What the hell do I do with a body?

Thinking I killed my wife. I was thinking my life was over.
For the next day, the body of Tara Grant lay inside the Isuzu in the garage. The day after that, Sunday, he had a plan.
Grant drove the SUV and Tara's remains to his father's grungy machine shop where the two of them made ball bearings. He backed the truck in and set down plastic bags.
So I looked around the shop. I was looking for something.
I was looking for a hacksaw or something. Through trial and error, he found that the blade of a broken hacksaw worked best.
He started with the hands. Sometimes I threw up and I threw up again and then I drank some more whiskey and then I just told myself, look, if you don't do this, you're going to prison for the rest of your life.
And I kept cutting her off. He then drove back to the house, his wife's dismembered body in the back of the SUV, and joined Verena and the kids for a nice Sunday afternoon.
I tried to make things as normal as possible for everybody, and I continuously flirted with Verena because I thought that was the only way I was going to be able to get through this. That Sunday night, he loaded the kids' plastic red sled in the Isuzu and at 3 a.m.
Monday drove off looking for a place to dispose of his wife's pieces. He ended up at Stony Creek Park near some big overhead power lines.
He popped the hatch and dumped the body parts onto the kid's sled. He pulled the last of Tara up through the snow to the open fields.
And as soon as I started going, it was like keystone topsops. The sled took off.
And now I'm chasing after this sled that has my wife's cut body in it, downhill. Finally got it stopped when it fell over and it broke.
And all these pieces of snow fall out of the place. So Tara's torso, I took and I buried in the snow.
And then the pieces I put on the sled, and then I buried that in the snow. But Grant was unhappy with his pre-dawn work.
I've done a very, very bad job of hiding anything. It's right there in the open.
Tuesday at dusk, he returned to the park,

retrieved all the body parts wrapped in clear plastic bags, cut them open, and scattered the

remains here and there under fallen trees. Hands, feet, tears, head, everything.
A one-gallon

Ziploc bag stuffed with all the plastic wrap he left by a tree near the road, and he was done.

Until he heard more than a week later, the sheriff announced a search of Stony Creek Park. So on that very Saturday morning, mere hours before the sheriff's search, Grant went back to the park at dawn to recover his wife's torso.
I had to dig it out. It's frozen in the ground.
How did you carry it? I threw it up my shoulder and carried it. It.
No longer Tara. A wife.
A human. Just it.
Merely a problem to be dealt with. I've covered crime my entire career, and it's hard to shake some of these details.
Details like Grant using his kid's red sled to transport his wife's body parts, and then being tickled by that same sled running away stacked with pieces of terror. It was like he's in the top.
The sled took off. Now I'm chasing at this sled.
To describe it like he's stone cops is just so flippant. That's your wife.
She might be in multiple parts at that point, but you should still recognize that that's your wife. Grant returned to the car with Tara's dismembered body.
He shoved it into plastic garbage bags and drove once more to his father's machine shop. He then hid the torso behind boxes in the loft space beneath the ceiling, but he worried that the remains would thaw and start to smell.
So five days later, he stashed the torso in a green plastic container, drove it back to the garage in his home, and hoped for the best. And I kept thinking, I got away with this.
I can't believe I got away with this. Look, how do you keep from just going for this guy, just throttling him? I guess I should be credited for that, because there's more than one time I would have liked to have done that.
The case had turned very personal for this tough guy detective. Do you ever wake up at night and you're back in the garage putting your hand in the tub? You see that green tub, I can see that almost every day.
I'll take it to bed with me every night. Grant signed a written version of his confession, but the case wasn't over because Grant later pleaded not guilty to the charge of first-degree murder.
He was going to trial for strangling and dismembering his wife, but Stephen Grant wasn't down for the count yet, not by a long shot. The day after his capture and confession, Stephen Grant, the husband who couldn't get enough of the TV cameras, faced them one more time in a perp walk, a perp roll actually, and later that day for an arraignment in a hospital wheelchair and wearing not the conventional institutional jumpsuit, but old-timey prisoner stripes selected personally by the sheriff for maximum humiliation.
They were a brand new set and had one of our officers transferred him right up to the hospital. Grant had told his murdered wife's sister she was probably just shacked up somewhere.
Now he'd been brought to ground. I saw an empty shell.
In all honesty, I saw an animal. And more than anything, Tara's sister Alicia wanted that animal she saw locked up for the rest of his life.
But only a first-degree murder conviction could guarantee no chance at parole. He's never going to get out.
Second degree, there's that possibility. So that was what was at stake when the murder trial of Stephen Grant began 10 months after his arrest.
Would he get life in prison, meaning exactly that? Or would the jury find him guilty of murder in the second degree, leaving the door open for him to walk free at some future date? Despite his legally airtight confession, Grant had pleaded not guilty. When you strip it all down, it's a domestic violence murder.
And somebody has to speak for Tara, and that was our job. The Macomb County prosecutor at the time, Eric Smith, never for a minute believed Grant's story that he and Tara had a fight over her traveling so much.
I don't see an argument. I see a beating.
He picked that very calculatingly that it makes him look good. Here's my wife.
She's out of town all the time. I'm this poor husband sitting at home

taking care of my kids.

I'm Mr. Mom.

This jury of 16 people,

we had to bring them back to reality

real quickly to show them

what this case was actually about.

And that was what?

It was about sex.

It was about Stephen Grant

wanting to replace his wife

with his au pair.

And something that was really telling

in this entire case

is the first thing he did

after murdering his wife was pick up his cell phone and text the au pair saying, you owe me a kiss. The prosecutor argued his case for premeditation, a requirement for Grant to be sent to prison without the possibility of parole.
He introduced evidence. There were Grant's steamy emails to the old flame, all but asking for a fresh hookup.
And then, him changing erotic targets from the former girlfriend to his children's au pair, Verena, the German teen fresh out of high school. And in a moment of high theater, the prosecutor called a blockbuster witness, Verena.
People flew over to Germany to try and track this woman down, and she was having nothing of it. So we really thought that she would just keep her distance.
Set the scene, Amber. I saw her just shoot these looks at him.
They were scowls. I mean, it seemed like she was really there to say, you've messed me up for some time, and I'm here to make sure that you get what's coming to you.
Verena, in a confident voice, recounted how her employer became suddenly flirtatious at the end of January. Stealing kisses, actually exposing himself to her, until finally, the night before Tara is murdered, he gets her into his bed.
No one can ever tell me that it's a coincidence that the night before he murders his wife, he has sexual relations with the au pair. The defense throughout, meanwhile, answered the accusation of premeditation by asking, well, where are the signs that Grant plotted out this crime? Where's the to-do list of carrying out a murder? A defense expert witness said this case is really about a man snapping during a physical confrontation.

And therefore, the defense argued he should be found guilty of no more than second-degree murder.

Tears torso, I took and I buried in the snow.

And yet, when the jury heard all three hours of Grant's passionless recollection of murder and dismemberment,

how could that be anything but first-degree murder?

When you hear it, there's a remoteness from the things he's talking about, isn't there? Yeah. There's no remorse.
There's not an ounce of remorse. In his closing argument, the prosecutor brought the jury back to the bedroom as the murder occurred.
The medical examiner had testified that Tara likely went unconscious after 15 seconds of strangulation. But then it probably took another 3 minutes and 45 seconds of Grant choking her before she actually died.
The prosecutor took out a stopwatch and set it ticking for four minutes. Plenty of time, he said, to think about going through with a murder.
And just as significantly, plenty of time to make the conscious choice to stop. That, he told the jury, also constituted premeditation.
When I said, Tara Grant is now unconscious, those next three minutes and 45 seconds were an eternity. Stephen Grant had the opportunity to choose life or death.
He chose death. The jury went out to deliberate and stayed out, confounding all courtroom betting for a fast verdict.
Three days later, they returned. Second degree murder.
Stephen Grant guilty of second degree murder. Guilty of murder in the second degree.
After a split jury tussle, they'd finally been persuaded by the defense's argument against premeditation. The defendant in full panic mode during and after the killing, his rational self, as it were, no longer at the wheel.
Well, the jury has spoken. I wanted first degree murder.
The defendant has been convicted of murder. But what I wanted more than anything was to make sure Stephen Grant was going to be off the streets and be off the streets for a long time.
And two months later, in her sentencing of Grant, the judge insured just that, giving him 50 to 80 years in prison. Today, justice was served.
Nothing will bring back Tara Grant, but also nothing will bring back Stephen Grant. Grant's first opportunity for a parole hearing won't come until he's 87 years old.
The judge had far exceeded the state's sentencing guidelines and handed down a virtual life sentence, citing, among other reasons, the depravity of Grant's psychological damage to his children. Lindsay and Ian will never have to see their father.
They'll never have to experience his hurtful ways, his abusive ways anymore. There had been yet another shocking disclosure.
In her victim impact statement, Tara's sister told the court that just days after the trial ended, her niece had spilled a long-kept secret. Hearing Lindsay describe detail by detail by detail, you know, what she saw that night, was unbelievable.
I don't think anything could have prepared me for hearing those words come out of her mouth. Both Lindsay and her younger brother Ian had watched their father murder their mother that awful night.
They heard her final groan. Nightmares understandably roamed both children's minds, the court was told.
But with time, counseling, and a new supportive home life, there was hope for them. Alicia and her husband Eric adopted their niece and nephew, blending them with their own children.
Tara's children called their aunt and uncle mom and dad. And there was a part of me that felt like I was, you know, dishonoring my sister by allowing them to call me mom.

And it was really, really my husband that said, you know what, this is the best thing for them.

So her children will be the legacy for Tara?

I believe so.

How could they not?

I mean, Lindsay's a spitting image of her mom, right down to the curly hair and her personality.

I think, oh my gosh, that's Tara.

That's Tara. Hey, this is Will Arnett, host of Smartless.
Smartless is a podcast with myself and Sean Hayes and Jason Bateman, where each week one of us reveals a mystery guest of the other two.

We dive deep with guests that you love, like Bill Hader, Selena Gomez, Jennifer Aniston, David Beckham, Kristen Stewart, and tons more. So join us for a genuinely improvised and authentic conversation filled with laughter and newfound knowledge to feed the smartless mind.