The drama of those lost hours emerges for the first time in State Patrol reports and those of several sheriff's departments requested by The Post-Crescent, as well as more than 1,200 pages of investigation reports released this past week by Atty. Gen. J.B. Van Hollen.

The state Department of Justice documents were made public four months to the day after Tyler Peterson, a 20-year-old off-duty Forest County sheriff's deputy, shot to death six people, including his ex-girlfriend, Jordanne Murray, 18, and critically wounded a seventh, Charlie Neitzel, 21.

Also killed were: Aaron Smith, 20, Bradley Schultz, 20, Lindsey Stahl, 14, Lianna Thomas, 18, and Katrina McCorkle, 18.

They tell the story of the officers who searched for Peterson after he fled from the scene of the crime, spurring a tense manhunt that started as most of the state slept and was captured on teletypes, cell phones and mobile computers.

"Throughout the early morning, law enforcement agencies from throughout the state were contacted, were en route and were fanning out to protect communities and locate Peterson," said Mike Myszewski, acting administrator for the Department of Justice's Division of Criminal Investigation.

"Law enforcement faced uphill odds in locating Peterson."

Search and locate

Phones began ringing across the state hours before sunrise.

Cars flooded the roads as early as 3:39 a.m. to head toward Crandon from across the state. Two pilots were called in to begin aerial searches.

Eighteen agencies in all responded to a plea for help from Forest County, including state agents from Madison, Michigan state police and sheriff's deputies from Washington County, 213 miles away.

"Didn't get any specifics as to how many vehicles, but he said lots," one trooper wrote that morning.

Later, police would say Peterson drove "aimlessly" around Forest, Langlade and Lincoln counties.

The dozens of police cars almost mimicked his behavior.

Sgt. Travis Wanless, who wrote a detailed summary of the State Patrol's involvement following the initial investigation, said officers narrow their searches to specific areas, then start driving.

"We just have our units kind of respond to that general area and hope we kind of stumble across him," Wanless said.

As the officers drove cautiously, searching for any sign of a murder suspect or his vehicle, they wrestled with an unfamiliar and overwhelming feeling, Wanless said.

"I don't even know how really to describe it. … An (initial) adrenaline rush would be a way to describe it, especially because of that incident in particular. That's a pretty serious offense," he said.

Wanless, who only once referred to Peterson by name, and even then called him "Mr. Peterson," said the prospect of actually finding their mass murderer was unsettling. The anxiety was heightened by the knowledge that Peterson, an avid hunter, was carrying several weapons.

"There's always the thought in the back of your mind, 'What am I going to do when I locate him? Or if I do locate him?'" he said. "You're kind of going over the 'what if' scenarios in your mind. 'What if he starts shooting at me?'… You name it, it could probably happen.

"Our training does somewhat prepare us … but to actually be put in a situation, it is totally different."

Renegade deputy

As the manhunt grew, State Patrol dispatchers took the lead organizing the search. They began listing the times and places officers were to begin duty and relaying information about Peterson and his vehicle.

Their suspect's law enforcement background, though, was troubling: Deputy Peterson, as the dispatchers frequently called him, might overhear.

"This is not for radio broadcast as Deputy Peterson has his portable," dispatchers said repeatedly.

Without the option of police radios, State Patrol officers turned to mobile computers and personal cell phones.

Peterson's intimate knowledge of police techniques definitely hampered the search, Myszewski said.

"He knew the area very well and had access to law enforcement communications through the radio he kept in his truck. If police talked over the radio, he would hear," Myszewski said.

Making the search even more difficult, Peterson kept in touch by cell phone with friends and family, and sometimes his pursuers. He usually refused to tell his family and friends where he was for fear they would turn him in — and he lied to police about his whereabouts to throw them off his trail.

"Peterson was actively giving misinformation to those he spoke with, proactively trying to throw law enforcement off of his trail," Myszewski said.

One of his boldest ploys was a call to the Vilas County Sheriff's Department in which he identified himself as a member of the Forest County Sheriff's Department to provide false information to searchers.

Peterson, who responded "yep" to most questions, asked the dispatcher about the "renegade deputy" responsible for the shootings in Crandon.

"What did you have for a vehicle description?" Peterson asked. "Yeah, it's going to be a 2004, red F-150 now. … We don't (have a plate number) as of yet."

When the dispatcher asked if he knew what time the shootings had occurred, Peterson pretended to look at a case file.

"I think about midnight. I'd have to look up the complaint. … Hold on," Peterson said.

The dispatcher asked if the shooter had tried to kill people, curiosity evident in her voice as she learned for the first time that it was a deputy who was being sought by authorities.

"Six of 'em," Peterson answered.

"Six of 'em?"

"Yep."

"And they're dead?"

"Yep."

Desperation grows

More than four hours after the shootings, the dozens of searchers on the road were no closer to finding him.

Dispatcher Debra Seefeldt began reciting what became a repeated warning that searchers use "extreme caution."

She would later add details — Peterson probably had his service weapon, he was an avid hunter — but Seefeldt repeated the cautionary bulletin seven times in 11 minutes.

Though they remained calm and organized, dispatchers also seemed to be getting desperate. Some began questioning if Peterson had long fled the state, even the country.

At 6:58 a.m., a State Patrol dispatcher alerted border patrol in International Falls, Minn., and Grand Forks, N.D. "Advise (them) suspect possibly trying to get into Canada," the dispatcher said.

Peterson, though, had doubled back and showed up at a cabin in Argonne, only eight miles from the shooting, at about 7:50 a.m.

Police had no clue, and kept searching. As late as 8:21 a.m., dispatchers said: "At this time, still no location of his whereabouts."

About the same time, dispatchers told searching officers that Peterson's cell phone calls had been traced to Long Lake, then later Iron River, Mich. That meant, dispatchers said, he was within five miles of the tower in Iron River.

Though the reason for the misleading call traces remains unclear, dispatchers would soon realize Peterson was much closer than they realized.

An end in sight

At 10:02 a.m. — 7 hours and 16 minutes after Peterson killed his ex-girlfriend and five of her friends — the officers searching for Peterson were finally alerted their manhunt was over.

Their suspect had been found: "Update on Deputy Peterson. We believe Peterson may be located in our county at a cabin, and we are staging at this time for attempting to apprehend him. We have the rifle, and he is believed to still have the pistol."

A co-owner of the property had called the police, saying Peterson had shown up at her cabin.

Confrontation loomed. Armored vehicles surrounded the cabin, nearby roads were blocked off and Forest County requested a K-9 unit.

At about 12:30 p.m., Peterson walked hurriedly into the woods near the cabin. A sniper fired just before he vanished from sight, not knowing whether the shot found its mark. Three more shots, quieter than the first, rang out from the direction Peterson had gone. A tactical team rushed toward the woods, yelling for Peterson to surrender.

They found him lying on his back in the tall grass.

One agent stepped on Peterson's right arm to hold it down as he plucked the gun from his hand. They rolled him over and handcuffed him.

Only then did they realize they had handcuffed a dead man.

On the scanners, the long, narrative descriptions of Peterson ceased. Dispatchers returned to short, staccato updates loaded with impersonal police language.

"One, two, three, four shots fired. Subject in woods northbound."

"Suspect 10-95 at this time."

"Advised situation in Forest County is over. Subject committed suicide."

"Cancel APB on Deputy Peterson."

Timeline of events on Sunday, Oct. 7

• 12 a.m.: Tyler Peterson drops off two friends.
   

• 2:30 a.m.: Peterson arrives at a duplex, 201 N. Hazeldell Ave., Apt. B, Crandon. An argument ensues with ex- girlfriend Jordanne Murray, who Peterson accused of having a relationship with another man. Murray demands Peterson leave.
   

• 2:43 a.m.: Peterson leaves duplex and retrieves a police AR-15 rifle.
   

• 2:47 a.m.: Crandon police officer Greg Carter reports to dispatch that he heard gunshots.
   

• 2:48 a.m.: Peterson emerges from duplex and shoots at Carter, hitting the squad car's windshield.
   

• 2:51 a.m.: Someone inside the duplex reports gunshots.
   

• 2:53 a.m.: Medics from Laona and Wabeno paged to scene.
   

• 2:55 a.m.: Dispatcher tells police that shooter is at 201 N. Hazeldell Ave., a neighboring residence.
   

• 3 a.m.: Peterson starts to drive to see his brother, then begins to drive "aimlessly'' around Lincoln, Forest and Langlade counties in northern Wisconsin. Peterson later tries to throw police off his trail by calling in false reports of his location.
   

• 3:01 a.m.: Ambulances arrive at duplex.
   

• 3:09 a.m.: A Forest County deputy leaves a message on Peterson's cell phone requesting a return call.
   

• 3:10 a.m.: Chief Deputy Ken Van Cleve of the Forest County Sheriff's Department leaves a message on Peterson's cell phone requesting Peterson meet or call him.
   

• 4:20 a.m.: Local police agencies request help from the state Department of Justice's Division of Criminal Investigation.
   

• 4:30 a.m.: DCI staff members head toward the scene.
   

• 5:13 a.m.: Tyler Peterson tells authorities there is no "taking back what he did."
   

• 5:58 a.m.: Authorities request State Patrol troopers for help with crowd control and scene containment.
   

• 7:50 a.m.: Peterson goes to a cabin in Argonne where his friends are.
   

• 7:55 a.m.: Peterson, who seems intoxicated, tells people at the cabin what he did. Peterson says he will turn himself in to Crandon Police Chief John Dennee. Sometime later, one of the people at the cabin puts Peterson's AR-15 on the porch swing after Peterson gives it up.
   

• 8:30 a.m.: Peterson leaves cabin to meet with family members.
   

• 9:15 a.m.: Peterson returns to cabin. One of the cabin's occupants leaves, calls 911 and returns.
   

• 9:30 a.m.: People in cabin notice Peterson still has a pistol on his hip.
   

• 9:40 a.m.: Steve Peterson, Tyler Peterson's father, calls his son but the call goes to voicemail.
   

• 9:56 a.m.: Tyler Peterson makes first of two calls to Forest County sheriff.
   

• 12:31 p.m.: Peterson is shot in the left bicep, presumably by police, and is found a short time later with three apparently self-inflicted pistol wounds to the head.
   

• About 4 p.m.: Police confirm the names of the six shooting victims who died and Peterson's death to the residents gathered at Praise Chapel Community Church in Crandon.