Did an Evil Spirit Order a Bloody Rampage?

When Jim Evans returned to his small apartment at the ranch that Thursday at noon, he planned to grab some lunch and then work the rest of the day. What he figured on and what came to pass, however, were two different things.

In his mid-30s, Evans worked as a hand at a horse ranch about four miles west of Newberg on Northeast Olds Lane, near the heart of Oregon's wine country. He'd taken the morning off to attend to some personal business and do a little shopping. As he entered his living quarters on that dark, dismal day — November 3, 1988 — his plans, including lunch, were wiped out by an unpleasant surprise.

Stepping inside his dwelling, Evans couldn't believe his eyes. Many of his clothes lay scattered about, furniture was out of place, some of it overturned, and drawers' contents were strewn on the floor. It was clear that someone had ransacked the flat, but, perhaps because of the sudden shock of finding his home in a shambles, Evans was unable to immediately determine whether anything had been taken.

Somewhat angry and wondering why anyone would do such a thing, the ranch hand left his apartment shaking his head in bewilderment, wondering if the same thing had happened to his co-worker.

Marsdon "Mike" Lemke, who was 58, also worked and lived on the ranch. Although a horse wrangler like Evans, he had worked there longer — since 1979. Because they had much in common, such as being in the same line of work and living and working on the same ranch, he and Evans had become friends.

Even though Lemke was an amiable fellow, he chose to live alone in a small travel trailer he kept parked on the ranch grounds. Thinking that perhaps he might know what had occurred at his apartment, Evans rushed over to Lemke's trailer after being unable to find him outdoors.

Evans knocked once on the door to Lemke's small home, but he got no response. He hadn't seen Lemke in the horse arena or the corral, but it was possible that his co-worker was somewhere else on the ranch, perhaps inside the barn. Just the same, Evans tried the handle to the trailer's single door. He found that it was unlocked. Without hesitating, he went inside.

If he had been disturbed by what he'd seen in his own apartment, Evans was downright horrified by what he found in Lemke's trailer.

Lemke was lying in the middle of the floor in a large pool of blood, his body riddled by bullet holes.

Choking back vomit and trembling from fear and revulsion, Evans crept over to where Lemke lay to check for life signs. He found none.

His co-worker and friend, who had been alive when he last saw him only hours earlier, was now clearly dead, Just how long he had been dead, Evans couldn't tell.

Without wasting another second, Evans rushed to the nearest telephone and called the Yamhill County Sheriff's Department. After briefly describing his grisly discovery, he was assured that help would be sent immediately. He was instructed to wait outside the trailer until lawmen arrived, and was advised not to touch or disturb anything at or near the scene.

Minutes later, Sheriff Glen Shipman arrived, accompanied by a team of road deputies. Sergeant John Kowalik and Detective Larry Pedersbeck also showed up in their own cars. They met Evans outside the trailer and, although he was distraught, he explained how he had found Lemke's body after discovering that his own apartment had been ransacked. He could think of no reasonable explanation for what had occurred.

The lawmen carefully entered the trailer to view the carnage. They noted there was a great deal of blood, not only what had puddled beneath Lemke's body and mushroomed outward, now in a semi-liquid state, but also what had spattered the walls, ceiling, floor, and the trailer's sparse furnishings. It looked like a case in which criminalists would likely perform a blood-spatter analysis.