(2 of 3)
Delving into Smith's past for clues may help Unionites find forgiveness, if not absolute understanding. The youngest child of Harry Ray Vaughan, a fireman and millworker, and secretary Linda Vaughan, Susan was seven when her parents divorced. A month later Harry Vaughan shot himself, and the next year Linda was remarried, to Beverly J. Russell Jr., a prominent local figure. The nephew of former South Carolina Governor and U.S. Senator Donald Russell, Russell -- onetime owner of Bev's TV and Appliance Store -- is active in the Republican Party and the Christian Coalition.
To outsiders, the Russells appeared model citizens. Bev sang in the Buffalo United Methodist Church choir, and Susan was an honors student at Union High, who participated in such volunteer activities as the Special Olympics. But twice, at ages 13 and 18, according to court papers, she attempted suicide, each time swallowing an overdose of aspirin. And in 1988, when she was 16, she told a high school guidance counselor that her stepfather had molested her. The counselor reported the complaint to the local department of social services, which in turn notified the Union sheriff's office. No criminal charges had been filed, however, by the time Susan and her mother withdrew the complaint. Family court judge David Wilburn sealed court records of the allegations in March 1988 because, he said at the time, they were "of no interest to persons not directly involved." Now retired, Wilburn says he remembers only that the Russell family was "dysfunctional," but one of Susan's high school friends told the Columbia State, "Everyone close to Susan knew" about the alleged molestation. A judge will decide on Jan. 4 whether the records should be reopened.
Ironically, just before the murders, Smith had appeared to be in good spirits. Although her troubled three-year marriage to David Smith, an assistant manager at the Winn-Dixie supermarket, had fallen apart in August amid accusations of David's infidelity, and although she was struggling financially, she seemed optimistic. Her clerical job at Conso, which has some glamorous foreign clients (their tassels adorn furniture in Buckingham Palace, for example), had "a future," she told an acquaintance. And, like other women at Conso, she perhaps even dreamed of marrying the boss's handsome 27- year-old son, Tom Findlay, whom she had briefly dated. But Tom had other ideas and a week before the murder sent Susan a letter ending their relationship.
The night before she took her children out for their final ride, Susan had one last encounter with Tom. Around 8 p.m. on Oct. 24, after her British literature course at the University of South Carolina-Union, Susan and a girlfriend went to Hickory Nuts, a clean, quiet sports bar that Findlay frequented. He was there that night, seated at the bar with a few friends. Susan sat down a few stools away, and according to bartender Lori Robins, when Findlay heard Susan order a beer, he paid for it and ordered a round for everyone. After a second beer, Susan left. The former couple never exchanged a word.