The Book

On March 12, 2011, two young saleswomen were found brutally attacked in the unlikeliest of places – a high-end yoga store in central Bethesda, a tony retail district outside the nation’s capital.

Thirty-year-old Jayna Murray was dead. Next to her body, walls were soaked with blood spatter, and detectives found a clawed hammer, a wrench, a rope, a two-pound statue of Buddha. It was as if the attacker couldn’t find the right weapon, and kept grabbing for new a new one. Leading away from her body: A track of shoe-prints left by a pair of size-14 sneakers. This looks like something out a horror movie, one cop said to himself.

The second woman survived. Twenty-eight-year-old Brittany Norwood was found tied up on the bathroom floor. She’d been cut. Her face was caked in dried blood, her yoga pants ripped open. Hours later, from her hospital bed, Brittany told a harrowing account: Two masked men had slipped into the store just after closing. At first they were just there for money. Then things went sideways, and the men turned violent, even sadistic. “I just remember there being so much blood,” Brittany said.

Only one problem. Parts of Brittany’s story, even from the beginning, didn’t make much sense …

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