Investigators found two spent 9mm casings in the room. A forensics expert determined that someone using the computer had visited the Whatcom County sheriff's sex offender registry and had viewed the listings for both Eisses and Vazquez. The user had also visited a pornography Web site.
The visitor was no FBI agent warning about vigilantes, of course. He was the vigilante.
His targets were poorly chosen.
None of the three had re-offended. They lived quietly and abided the terms of their release. All three were remorseful, and they likely found strength in their togetherness.
"In a sense, they are a success story," Kathryn Bail, a state prison official, told the Seattle Times. "These guys were doing fine. They were employed. They were living according to the conditions."
Theodore Kingma, the church friend who helped Eisses buy the house, told the paper, "He confessed his sins, and he lived right with God and the neighbors."
After the murders, Eve Vazquez, a victim of her father's sexual abuse, released a statement disclosing that she had confronted her father after his release from prison.
"I found a guilt-stricken man who was suffering deeply from his past mistakes," she said.
She continued, "I worry that the community may feel as if my father's murderer is a social vigilante who is justified in his actions because of the mistakes my father had made 17 years ago. If anyone had the right to be angry with my father, it was me, his primary victim."
But Vazquez said she and her father had been slowly rebuilding a relationship.
"I finally learned that my father was more than the sum of his worst acts," she said. "He was a human being, a real dad who did everything within his means to right his wrongs."
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