Ricardos family never got his body back the whole reason they had agreed to the deal.
Tuer had dreaded this scenario when he first read Bennetts text, sent on the day Ricardo disappeared, referring to taking out the trash. At that time, Tuer had traced the path of the garbage from the motels dumpster. He cordoned off the spot of the Cecil County landfill, where the load had been left, in case it needed to be preserved. But his suspicions were nothing more than a hunch, too little to take on the herculean task of searching the vast field of debris.
By the time last August that Bennett revealed the details that got him the plea bargain, the trash fill where Ricardos body was believed to be had grown to more than 120 feet across, 90 feet wide and 24 feet deep.
As Tuer and Fockler stood amid dump trucks and sea gulls picking at the piles, officials explained to them that even in a best-case scenario, the compacting process would have reduced the teens remains to fragments indistinguishable from chicken bones.