Granby Police Patrolman Gary Polar heard the sounds of a woman crying coming from the basement.

He had been the first officer to arrive at the scene at the cream-colored house on Barton Street, where Kara Rantala lived with her wife,

Anna Marie Cochran Rantala and their young daughter.

He was under the impression that he was responding to a domestic call after a neighbor had called 911.

No one said anything about a murder.

It was a

a 9th 2010 in Granby, Massachusetts, a picturesque small town of about 6,000 people

in hour north of Hartford, Connecticut.

It was a rainy, chilly Monday evening in New England about 7.15 p.m.

The door was open so Officer Polar let himself in.

He walked through the kitchen of the house and down the narrow steep stairs that led into the basement.

This stairway was cluttered with a child's rocker, a vacuum, shoes, and other items from daily life.

Police, he uttered to announce his presence.

Then he saw a scene far more serious than his usual daily calls in Granby.

Carra Rintala sat on the floor, crying, cradling her wife Anna Marie across her lap.

Anna Marie was lifeless, rigid and unmoving, stiff as a board, paramedics later said.

I can't believe she's dead, Kara said.

She kept repeating herself.

I can't believe she's dead.

What surely caught the officer's attention right away was the site of white paint.

There was a large amount of what appeared to be wet paint all over the area as well as all over

Ann Marie and Karen. And when you say all over Anna Ray, what portions of her body was green member seeing that same time?

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