Each year approximately a half a million people are listed as missing, but most of them are quickly found. According to NamUs, the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System, only about 2,000 of those will still be listed as missing by the end of a year. The numbers have dropped sharply over the years and they continue dropping.
Some voluntarily leave, but actually vanishing without a trace on purpose is increasingly difficult. Most of those reported as missing are under the age of 21. Boys outnumber girls just slightly and over half of those are people of color. A strong contributor to finding missing persons is the rise of social media.
On May 19th, an 8 year old girl was literally dragged from her mother’s arms by a man in a car. Within hours, the face of the child and a description of the man’s car were everywhere on the internet. His vehicle was spotted by two alert church ladies and she was rescued less than 24 hours after the brazen kidnapping.
Tragically, many more people don’t have the same quick resolution. Here are a few of the recently missing from Texas.
Malik Rashad Brown, 17, was last seen in Fort Worth at a Shell Station on Jacksboro Highway wearing a white tee, white Nike slides and either blue jeans or gray jogging pants. He has not been seen since 10:30 pm on Memorial Day, May 27, 2019 and is considered an endangered child by DPS. He has a tattoo on his forearm that reads “RIP Sosa.” Malik is approximately 6’0 and 175 pounds. For more pictures and information about Malik, please check pl8pic, or the DPS website.
If you have any information or believe you have seen Malik, please contact the Fort Worth Police Department at 817-392-4222, or the Missing Persons Clearinghouse for Department of Public Safety (DPS) at 512-424-5074 or the DPS Helpline at 800-346-3243.
Prisma Denisse Peralta Reyes, 26, has been missing from Mesquite since April 17, 2019. She is 5’2 and 135 pounds and was last seen wearing a red polo shirt and blue jeans. She dropped her son off at the baby sitter’s house that morning as usual. She left work at noon and has not been seen since. She is a member of the National Guard and works as a paralegal.
Security footage has surfaced of Reyes talking on her phone around 6 pm outside the Olympic at Ross apartment complex in Dallas. Reyes appears disoriented in the video, swaying back and forth and staggering while talking on her cellphone. She is believed to have been at that complex to meet with an ex-boyfriend with whom she had recently began seeing again. The video can be viewed numerous places including Crimeonline.com. A day after she went missing, her 2017 Jeep Wrangler was found in the 3500 block of Roseland Avenue, near North Hall Street, in Old East Dallas.
If you have any information about the disappearance of Prisma Reyes, please contact the Mesquite Police Department at 972-285-6336.
John Rodriguez, 16, has been missing from Fort Worth since June 13, 2019. John is 5’7 and 130 pounds. He is listed with the National Center of Missing and Exploited Children. If you have any information about the disappearance of John, please contact the Fort Worth Police Department or NCMEC at 1-800-THE-LOST.
While I am still working on the Carter High story, I decided it’s time for a break from all the death and darkness. Working in the criminal justice system means having the best stories because you can’t make this stuff up. So periodically, I’m going to mix things up with a little palate cleanser. Enjoy three of our dumbest locals, and a bonus runner up.
October 1, 2017, our hero, Mario Malone, 38, was just hanging around outside an apartment complex with his pants down around his ankles. Fort Worth Police were called and arrived to find him sitting on the ground, pants down, which doesn’t sound comfortable at all. But he was sitting on some stairs with the pants down and a black backpack. Police called him by name as soon as they saw him, which is never a good thing. Malone jumped up, pulled up the pants and began stuffing items into them, according to the police report. He took off running, abandoning the backpack which happened to be stuffed with drugs. He was having difficulty since his pants kept falling down and so he took a header down the stairs allowing police to catch him. The only thing injured was his pride. He was sentenced to three years for evading arrest or detention and possession of a controlled substance. Moral of the story: Sagging pants and running from the cops never works out for the criminal.
In 2016, would be burglar Michael Washington had a bright idea. There’s one opening to a house that no one ever thinks to lock. He hoisted himself to the roof using a chair and climbing the rest of the way. Then he had a problem. Police were summoned to Vandervort Drive in Oak Cliff because a man was screaming. At 1 am, the Fire Department was called to extricate Washington from the homeowner’s chimney. Washington admitted trying to enter the house through the chimney, but claimed he knew the people who lived there–which was news to them. Then he claimed he was being chased by two men and trying to escape down a handy chimney, as you do. He was arrested, but that still makes him luckier than a similar burglar who tried the same trick in California but died in his attempt. Moral of the story: There is a reason people don’t crawl into chimneys.
April 22, 2008, Chase Bank called Fort Worth PD because they suspected a forgery. The location might run thousands of checks through a day, but there was something odd about the check Charles Fuller presented.
Police arrived and patted down Fuller because of a suspicious bulge in his pocket. Fuller wasn’t just happy to see the police, it was a loaded gun and a baggie of marijuana, neither of which is a good idea in a bank. The check was drawn on the account of Fuller’s girlfriend’s mother, Paula. A quick call to Paula confirmed that she had not given Fuller permission to take a check from her checkbook, much less write one to himself for $360 billion. Yes, that’s billion with a B. Although Fuller loudly protested that Paula wanted him to have that money in order to start his own record label, he was placed under arrest and later sentenced to 9 months in jail. Moral of the story: Maybe aim a little lower for your first crime.
DFW’s First Place:
December 12, 2017, a woman parks her car in the garage. Because she closed everything up, she left her purse and military gear in her car. That night, someone breaks in and steals the car, purse, gear and all. In the purse are the woman’s military ID and numerous debit and credit cards. Someone immediately goes on a spending spree. Because this is Texas, the criminals immediately hit Whataburger and then a 7-11 for Swisher Sweets and Fiji Water. After that, the crew of three goes to Walmart. Police pull surveillance from the places the card was used and now they have images of the people involved. Police post the images on social media and immediately the people are identified.
Two of the people come forward to say that the third person in the video, Kaleb “Shamu” Weatherly, picked them both up and said that he had a credit card belonging to his mother. Police issued a warrant for Weatherly. Here is where things take a goofy turn. Apparently, Weatherly took exception to the photo used in his wanted posted. It was “gangsta” enough to suit the pudgy white boy from the suburbs. He took to twitter to express his outrage.
That’s right. He began dropping also his info in his tweets along with that gem of a photo of him holding a gun and trying to look as scary as possible.
You can tell by all the likes how popular he is. Too bad he is a convicted felon with a prior for burglary and not allowed to possess a gun. He doubles down on the proof he illegally owns firearms.
To the surprise of no one (except perhaps “SHAMU”) Fort Worth Police arrested Weatherly just a week later and seized his weapons. He is currently serving four years in prison. Moral of the story: Maybe don’t confess to crimes on your social media.
Next week I will return with We Run The City and a crime that was bold as it was senseless.
It’s hard to believe the blog is over a year old now. A big thank you to everyone who has read and commented. I have some new features in the works including a Patreon. The Patreon won’t go live until there is enough content ready for it to be worth something. I would like to help defray the costs of the blog, but I feel I should have more to offer before I do. This blog, however, will always remain free.
As time passes, some of the cases need updates, because these stories are never really done.
The very first case I covered was Ripples in a Pond about the White Rock Lake machete murder. October 12, 2015, Thomas Johnson brutally murdered runner Dave Stevens. Due to his schizophrenia, Johnson was found incompetent to stand trial. Incompetence is different than insanity. Competency relates to the current ability of an accused to understand the charges against him and assist in his own defense. Because his mental illness had its hooks in so deep, Johnson didn’t regain competency for some time, but he was finally declared competent in 2018. He went to trial this March, entering a plea of not guilty by reason of insanity.
Insanity relates to the mental status of a defendant at the time he committed the offense. Texas Code of Criminal Procedure Chapter 46C and Penal Code Chapter 8 cover Insanity as a defense. To use this special plea, the defendant must admit having committed the offense, but must prove by a preponderance of the evidence that at the time of the crime, as a result of severe mental disease or defect, the accused did not know that his conduct was wrong.
It was undisputed that Johnson committed the crime and that he suffered from a severe mental disease–but did he know that his conduct was wrong? The prosecution offered evidence that Johnson immediately went to call 911 and told them he had committed capital murder. The defense did not call any witnesses. They were hampered by Johnson’s decision on to testify and his own decision during trial that he would not agree that he was insane. It only took the jury a half hour to convict him. He was sentenced to life.
With tears in his eyes, Johnson’s own father told WFAA, Channel 8 news that it was the best result. His son had resisted all attempts to help him and refused his medication when allowed to be free. The only choice, for his safety and everyone else’s, was to “keep him away from other people.”
When I covered the Stephen Barbee case, he had just exhausted his appeals after receiving a death sentence for murdering his pregnant ex-girlfriend and her son who was only seven. For more details, see Bad Decisions. Barbee now has a date with the execution chamber, October 2, 2019. The only thing which would change that is a stay of execution which is not likely. His conviction was after the advent of the modern DNA era. Everything was thoroughly tested, he confessed, and he led police to the bodies. There have not been any suggestions he suffers from a mental defect of disease. I do not expect to see a stay of execution.
Buried Alive remains one of the most heart-breaking stories I have covered. I remember when it happened. I was a young prosecutor and the brutality of Lisa Rene’s murder shocked me. It still shocks me. Three of the men who kidnapped, raped, and kill Lisa made plea deals to testify against the two men who were sentenced to death: Orlando Hall and Bruce Webster. At trial, Webster’s attorney offered evidence that Webster had a terrible childhood filled with abuse and that he was mentally challenged. Webster’s appellate attorneys uncovered new evidence that convinced the 5th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals to vacate the death sentence and remand the case for a new sentencing. Prosecutors are still deciding how to handle this ruling.
In the future I will update Wrecked, story of the “Affluenza Teen.” At this point, it’s still on-going. His mother, Tonya Couch is scheduled for trial this fall on charges she knowingly hindered his apprehension by taking him to Mexico before he could be arrested for violating his probation. I’m going to wait until after her trial for that update.
I’m going to take a break from the Hunting Grounds series for a couple weeks before returning to it. Instead I’m delving into a case that combines two of my favorite subjects: high school football, and true crime: the robbery spree that saw members of Dallas Carter’s state winning football team go forward not to college greatness, but to prison.
The Hunting Grounds is a multi-part series on the predators who made Fort Worth a dangerous place to be a woman in in the 1980s. I strongly recommend you start from the beginning of the narrative. Preview sets the scene, followed by Stranger in the Dark and Cold Hit which discusses the creation of CODIS and the first Fort Worth Cold Case Unit. The Devil you Know and Caging the Predator address the issue of serial rapists who escalate to murder, and the first killer confined under the Sexually Violent Predator Act. This post is a continuation of A Friend of the Family.
An 11 year-old child in her own bed. A black sex worker at a truck stop. A young, Hispanic mother running errands in her neighborhood. A woman from out of town on her way back to the bus station. The four have nothing in common, except they all knew the same man, and he would eventually kill them. He would also get away with it for more than a decade.
Although many people had fled their Northside neighborhood after the 1986 murder of Vanessa Villa (See A Friend of the Family), Melissa Badillo and her sister Sylvia Sanchez had stayed. September 1994, Melissa left her five month old daughter with Sylvia and went out to run errands. She was never seen alive again. Melissa’s half-nude body was found in in a park near Riverside. She had been raped and manually strangled. Among those who came by the house to pay respects was the elder brother of Melissa’s best friend, Juan “Johnny” Segundo. His family had lived nearby for years. The case remained unsolved and a heart-broken Sylvia raised Melissa’s daughter with only stories and a picture to keep her memory alive.
Like so many in the 1980s, Francis Williams was a casualty of the crack epidemic. Her addiction led her into sex work to survive. November 15, 1994, her nude body was found face down in a drainage ditch just blocks from a truck stop. Although the area was frequented by sex workers, it wasn’t where Francis normally worked. She was known to walk the Lancaster/Rosedale area downtown. She had been raped and manually strangled. In an odd twist, someone had spray-painted the letters “KKK” in white on her buttocks. Police weren’t sure if this was really a racially motivated crime or just a false clue intended to lead them off path. Perhaps it was a sick joke. There was no way to know if that desecration had even come from the killer or from someone who spotted her body.
Because of her lifestyle, Francis hadn’t been reported missing. She was frequently in and out of jails and moved around. Police identified her by her fingerprints. Her mother Emma and her two sisters had seen her just two days prior. Francis had gotten out of jail that Sunday morning and come by. They were able to tell the police that she had recently been seen around town with a Hispanic man, driving a red truck. They didn’t know his name.
During this same time, Dallas PD was working on two sex worker manual strangulations where victim was left in similar circumstances, in a ditch, half dressed. Police were focused on the sex worker angle and spoke to many of the truck drivers and women who knew Francis. The men all pointed fingers at one other. One claimed to have heard someone bragging about having killed a sex worker and painted her. One claimed to have knowledge that Francis had stolen from a drug dealer.
The police weren’t the only ones who focused on Francis being a sex worker. Unlike the sensitive reporting by Melody McDonald and Deanna Boyd who told Vanessa’s story, Francis’ murder was reported on by a male reporter and the headlines were very different. “POLICE SAY BODY THAT OF PROSTITUTE” screams the headline and underneath, “Officer says records show woman had 51 citations.” Most of the article is about the problem of prostitution in the area, how truck driver’s won’t park their trucks down there because women are always knocking on the doors. There is nothing about Francis as a person, as someone who had a family who loved her. Her criminal history is all convictions for prostitution and drug possession. She didn’t have a history of theft or violence or even dealing drugs. She didn’t harm anyone. She was just a woman struggling with addiction, trying to survive.
Thankfully, police records show that they took the murder investigation seriously. They worked all the angles. On Wednesday, November 16, a truck driver saw someone throw a garbage bag out. He looked and found it was full of female clothes and a wig. He decided he should call the police. Interviews with other sex workers who knew Francis well told police they had last seen her on n on E. Lancaster, an area she was known to work. She was seen by a friend standing behind the Windsor Hotel. Like so many murders in this time, there were two many suspects and not enough evidence and Francis’ murder was added to the list of unsolved cases.
Maria Navarro wasn’t a local. She came to Fort Worth from Corpus Christi to visit friends and maybe get a new start. A mother of three, she left her children in the car of her own mother, but she didn’t abandon them. She wrote numerous letters and called regularly. Maria had her own demons, particularly cocaine. She visited her friends and made new ones, even a boyfriend that she considered serious. Her husband and the father of her children had died the year before and substance abuse had been her coping mechanism, but Maria was hopeful. An argument with another woman turned into a fistfight and Maria found herself in jail. While there, she wrote letters to her boyfriend and family about her intent to rededicate herself to starting fresh. She pled guilty, served her time and was released. Her boyfriend had a more casual view of their relationship. He liked Maria, but didn’t want anything serious. But he cared and offered to pay for a bus ticket home to Corpus Christi.
Maria was thrilled. She called her mother on June 16th and told her she was coming home and even made arrangements to pick up her children. This was her new life, her fresh start. She also called her sister and gave her the same message. She was going home. When Maria didn’t show up as planned, her mother worried. She called police up in Fort Worth and reported her daughter missing. Maria’s boyfriend didn’t hear from her again and assumed she had gotten on the bus and moved on with her life. Maria’s friend she had stayed with at the Skyline Motel didn’t see her for several days and was surprised that Maria left all her things. She worried, but decided Maria just wanted to go home that badly.
June 17, 1995, children found Maria’s body in Buck Sansom Park. They were there to play baseball when they found her body in the bushes. There was “insect activity” that drew their attention, most likely flies at that time of year. She was nude from the waist down, wearing only a tank top and sandals. She had been raped and manually strangled. Like Francis, Maria was identified by fingerprints from her recent trip to jail. Police then matched her name to the missing persons report filed by her mother. Maria’s friend was able to describe some unique tattoos and jewelry which further confirmed the identity of the body. At the time, police were convinced her murder was related to that of a sex worker named Patricia Apodoca who was murdered the same day.
They questioned everyone, but could find no links between Maria and Patricia. Maria was not involved with sex work and although some people knew both women, there was no indication they knew one another. Patricia’s murder remains unsolved, or if it was solved, I was unable to find any record of it. Police took a hard look at Maria’s boyfriend, but he passed several polygraphs and seemed truly distraught. Her mother and sister took on the task of raising Maria’s three children. The family was impoverished, unable to raised the funds for a headstone leaving Maria Navarro in an unmarked grave.
September 4, 1995, Juan Mesa Segundo pled guilty to his third DWI which made the charge a felony. He was sentenced to 5 years in TDC (Texas Department of Corrections). His brother recalled picking him up in 2000 when he was released. He said his brother seemed to have aged since last seen. He took his brother home to live with him in Keene Texas. While in Keene, Segundo converted to Seventh Day Adventist and married a Filipino woman. For five years, Segundo lived under the radar.
Then, in 2004 Texas required all convicted offenders to submit DNA to CODIS. In 2005, the state ordered all incarcerated felony offenders to be added to the system even if their convictions predated 2004. (See Preview for the use of DNA in prosecutions and use of CODIS to solve crimes). Detective Manny Reyes evaluated cold cases for biological evidence and submitted them to CODIS for possible DNA matches. Among the first cases Reyes sent was the very first murder case he worked: Vanessa Villa. The eleven year-old’s murder had haunted him and for 19 years he remained in contact with the family. Other cases with biological evidence were Frances Williams and Maria Navarro. At the time, criminologists didn’t think they had enough DNA in Melissa Badillo’s case.
The envelopes he got in return looked like any other mail, but they contained life changing information. He had an answer for Vanessa’s killer. The semen on her sheets and body belonged to a Juan Mesa Segundo. He had a name, an identity for the faceless monster. A warrant was quickly drafted. Vanessa’s family was shocked. They had lost track of “Johnny” Segundo over the years but he was a friend of the family. They had allowed him into their home.
Detectives quickly learned Segundo was not in custody. He was living in Johnson County which is just to the south of Tarrant County. The moved in an arrested him. In what would become a hallmark of his incarceration, Segundo denied knowing anything. He even claimed not to know who Vanessa was. Under pressure, he finally admitted knowing the family and having been in the home, but still denied knowing the child whose funeral he attended.
More envelopes came and Segundo’s DNA was matched to both Francis Williams’ and Maria Navarro’s murders. Detectives were shocked because they had never linked the crimes. Detective Boetcher, who had worked Francis’ case went to see her mother in person and let her know the killer was in custody. Segundo’s photo was shown to many sex workers from the area and they recognized his face as someone who had been around. They didn’t know his name, but multiple women picked his face out of photospreads as someone from the area. He was a local guy, mild-mannered, soft-spoken. The monster had been in disguise.
Melissa Badillo’s sister was shocked by the arrest and convinced he had something to do with her sister’s murder. He was someone they knew well. “We came from the same barrio,” she said.
In spite of the DNA matches, Segundo’s new church and community rallied around him. His wife and other church members visited him almost daily, convinced of his innocence. When jailors search Segundo’s cell, they found weapons, a toothbrush sharpened to a deadly point and other items, including two photos of young girls around 8-13 years of age. One of the church members who had visited him regularly admitted he had asked for photos of her daughter, a girl near the same age as Vanessa. He told her he wanted to draw a picture of her daughter for her as a gift. Under questioning, she admitted he didn’t ask for pictures of son. He had never drawn the picture of her daughter but she insisted there was no harm in having the picture. The identity of the other girl was never found.
In 2006, Segundo went to trial for Vanessa’s murder. His lawyers did what they could to suggest the DNA was contaminated, but the jury convicted him. Everyone knew the real issue was whether he would receive the death penalty. The jury was told about his other crimes, the two known murders, the burglaries with intent so commit sexual assault, the long history of alcoholism.
The defense presented evidence of a difficult, chaotic childhood. The family had been very impoverished and the kids were shuffled around to different homes including an orphanage before moving to Fort Worth with an alcoholic mother and an abusive step-father. One of Segundo’s brothers testified that he suffered a severe head injury as a toddler. Segundo’s church members and family all said he was changed man. He had been out of prison for five years and–to their knowledge–hadn’t offended on anyone. Of course, they didn’t realize he was raping and killing back in the 80s and 90s. They said he was sober now and a productive citizen. He was active in the church.
A neurologist, Dr. Hopewell testified that Segundo had an “extensive history of inhalant and alcohol abuse coupled with his head injury and difficult childhood caused him to be memory impaired although not ‘mentally retarded’. She tested Segundo’s IQ at 75, and that he had “very poor” insight, “poor” judgment, and “significant difficulty” with executive functioning.
The prosecution had more evidence that had never been made public before the trial. A 21 year-old woman who testified that Segundo dated her mother when she was very young, about 5. He molested her and forced her to perform oral sex on him.
I’m sorry to say that I’m actually related to this monster and if it weren’t for my father. He probably would’ve killed my mother & I. My mom stated she was surprised he didn’t kill us we lived in the same household as he did at one time. He hated my mom & was jealous of my birth. I have been reading on these victims and I am very sorry for your tragic e ENTs. Needless to say I do understand what you are going through. I too was a victim of molestation from a step family member. And do recall them two got along very well. I came forward and saved lives. I do wonder sometimes why didn’t he just end it with me cause I live with that pain for the rest of my life. I hope he is put down soon he’s a waste of society. There’s no way he will make it out here alive. May God wrap his arms tightly around these victims and their families. Justice is only halfway served while he sits awake with no remorse. Take him god & make this world a better place. God bless
They jury weighed the cost of what he had done and sentenced Segundo to death.
In 2010, a criminologist with the Tarrant County Medical Examiner’s Office realized that DNA had progressed enough that they could now test scrapings that came from under Melissa Badillo’s nails. She had fought her attacker. DNA confirmed that her attacker had been Juan Mesa Segundo. Because Segundo was already on Death Row, he was never formally charged with Melissa’s death.
Segundo was scheduled to die in 2018, but he was granted a stay based upon his claim that he is intellectually disabled. The case is now in limbo pending further investigation of his mental status. At the same time the Fort Worth Star-Telegram printed heartbreaking interviews with Vanessa and Melissa’s families, describing how their lives had been damaged by Segundo.
Segundo has refused to speak about the crimes. Even family members close to him say he has never spoken to them. Whatever he knows, he is keeping it hidden inside, just as he keeps everything about his true, monstrous self hidden behind the disguise of a family friend.
Next Week I will update some stories previously covered, including a conviction, a stay of execution, and a new date with the death chamber.
The Hunting Grounds is a multi-part series on the predators who made Fort Worth a dangerous place to be a woman in in the 1980s. I strongly recommend you start from the beginning of the narrative. Preview sets the scene, followed by Stranger in the Dark and Cold Hit which discusses the creation of CODIS and the first Fort Worth Cold Case Unit. The Devil you Know and Caging the Predator address the issue of serial rapists who escalate to murder, and the first killer confined under the Sexually Violent Predator Act.
Something was bothering Vanessa Villa on August 3, 1986. The 11 year-old Fort Worth Worth girl had been out of sorts all day and now she didn’t want dinner. She didn’t want to go to the store with her mother and aunt. She just wanted to lie in bed listening to a cassette of sad, Spanish songs. She might have been nervous about the school year that was about to start. School was hard for Vanessa. She was bubbly and outgoing and teachers liked her enough to make her an office helper, but her English was limited and so even though she was a bright child who loved art and history, she struggled. At times, she wanted to leave and go back to Mexico. She wrote in her diary, “Momma take me from this place. I’m scared.” But at other times she dreamed of being a cheerleader and had exchanged kisses with a boy. She lived a normal life for a girl on the Northside.
The Northside of Fort Worth has a long history of being a tight knit Mexican community. School might be hard, but Vanessa’s family had found a welcoming home in the neighborhood. Their extended family was all here. Vanessa made money selling Western belts and boots at the Bernal Flea Market, something she did earlier that day. Her friends and family remember her as not being her cheerful self. That night, she excused herself from the dinner table without eating. Vanessa’s mother stopped by her bedroom to check on her before leaving. The baby needed diapers and another child need new shoes for school. Vanessa was lying on the bed wearing blue jean shorts, listening to the sad music as a fan hummed in her open window, keeping the heat at bay. She repeated that didn’t want to go. Her seventeen year old brother was in his room, so her mother let Vanessa and the youngest children stay home while ran her errands.
Vanessa’s mother and aunt weren’t gone long, just a trip to the store and maybe stopping to talk to friends. Upon arriving home, the first thing Vanessa’s mother noticed was that her bedroom door was closed, which was strange because it was hot. The door had been open when they left in order to let the air flow through. She opened the door and was startled to find her daughter naked from the waist down. Her first instinct was to snap, “Cover yourself up!” But on closer look , she realized something was very wrong. Then she started screaming and Vanessa’s brother ran into the room.
It was a crime that shocked the community. There had been a steady creep of the problems facing the rest of the city, but a eleven year-old girl raped and strangled in her own bed? Chris Cook, a senior detective was called out to the scene, but he quickly called for another detective, one who spoke Spanish. Manny Reyes would always recall the first murder case he worked.
Vanessa had been brutally attacked, with ligature marks around her neck and half-moon cuts from finger nails dug in her thighs, yet no one had heard anything. Outside her window, police found a white bucket, the type markets used to sell pickles. The bucket was turned over and the fan had been pushed out of Vanessa’s window. Police believed her attacker had come in through that window.
At first, police pursued leads hard. There was a neighbor with a history of sexually abusing children, but he proved to have an alibi. This was the same year the discovery of DNA was announced. The idea of using it solves crimes was far away. The best police could do was test the semen for secretions. The neighbor was excluded from being the killer, but that didn’t bring police any closer to answers. Vanessa was laid to rest in a dove grey coffin with a lace veil over her face. Reyes watched people shuffle past to pay their respects and he wondered if one of them had done it.
The fifth name in the visitation book at the funeral is written in shaky hand, Mr. and Mrs. Juan Segundo. Juan and his wife, Rosa Maria were friends of the family. Rosa Maria worked with Vanessa’s mother at a nursing home. Juan, who went by Johnny, used to visit there until he was accused of molesting one of the residents and banned from being there.
Johnny was considered harmless by most people. He was small and soft spoken, but Rosa Maria knew he had a darker side. He drank heavily and could be abusive. In 1983, he came home covered with blood and refused to talk about it. She went out to his car, looking for clues. Under the seat she found a woman’s purse. Segundo had been in and out of jail, mostly for marijuana and drunk driving, but also burglary. If she had any suspicions then about just how dangerous her husband was, Rosa Maria kept them to herself. She did leave him soon after.
People were eager to leave the neighborhood after Vanessa was killed. Too much violence and they were now suspicious of each other. Police were sure the killer was local. Everyone knew each other on the Northside. Vanessa’s killer was able to walk up to her house and away again without anyone noticing even though the heat of the evening had driven many outside. He belonged. A stranger would have been seen. Without any meaningful leads, the police moved on to new crimes and the tight knit community broke apart, but no one forgot, not Vanessa’s family or friends, and certainly not that young detective.
October 6, 1987, Irene K. was separated from her husband and staying with a friend on North Houston Street. She woke in the night to the feeling of someone touching her. Startled, she turned on a lamp to find a man with his pants down, kneeling over her. She screamed and he began punching her in the face. The man seemed very drunk to her as she fought back. Fortunately, Irene wasn’t alone. Irene’s screaming brought her friend running. The friend also fought the man who ran off and the women immediately called the police. Juan Segundo might have gotten away with the brazen attack if the friend hadn’t recognized him. She had worked with Segundo and considered him a nuisance. He was was always “hitting on” her and making sexual comments. Perhaps Segundo was actually looking for the friend that night when he broke in.
Thanks to her friend having recognized him, a warrant was issued for Segundo. Police were already looking for him because he had just made bond on his most recent DWI. Segundo was quickly arrested and charged with Burglary with intent to commit sexual assault. He was convicted and sentenced to 10 years in prison on June 28, 1988. Thanks to overcrowding and mandatory early release, he was back out in less than a year.
His parole didn’t last very long. Sharon H. lived in the Ripley Arnold Housing Complex right across the street from the Tarrant County Courthouse, the very place Segundo had pled guilty to trying to rape Irene K.
Like Irene, Sharon woke to a naked man in her room. To keep her from screaming, her grabbed her around the throat and began strangling her. Later police would discover that he had removed a window pane to make entry into her bedroom. Sharon fought Segundo and was able to get free. Ripley Arnold Housing was a series of duplexes that were close on top of one another. Her screams brought neighbors running. They weren’t able to catch Segundo but they got a good look at him and were able to tell police who he was. Segundo was well known in the neighborhood. As one man told the police, “Johnny gets crazy when he drinks.”
How a convicted sex offender who had attacked a woman after being out of prison for less than a year was allowed to plead guilty to a misdemeanor is a real mystery, but that is exactly what happened. Although Segundo was again charged with Burglary with intent to commit sexual assault and was eligible to be punished as a Habitual Offender, meaning he could have gotten anywhere from 25 years to Life, Segundo was only given a sentence of one year.
Segundo’s parole was revoked and he was sent back to prison where he was again released in 1993. Five days later he was arrested for threatening another man with a gun at a bar over a woman. He was released on bond because the courts were slow. Then in 1995, while drunk Segundo ran a red light and led police on a high speed chase through the streets of Fort Worth. He was once again released on bond. This DWI, Segundo’s third, was a felony. Apparently, DWI is more serious than rape, because when he pled guilty on September 14, 1995, he was sentenced to five years.
While on bond for the felony that would send him back to the pen, Segundo killed at least three times, crimes that wouldn’t be revealed for a decade, not until Fort Worth created it’s first Cold Case Unit and assigned a veteran detective, Manny Reyes, who had never forgotten that first case he had been assigned. For 19 years he had stayed in touch with Vanessa Villa’s family and when CODIS made DNA a formidable weapon in solving old crimes, hers was one of the very first cases he sent off for testing.
The results would shock everyone. Without DNA, Fort Worth police would never have discovered that four seemingly disparate crimes were actually the work of a serial killer and that he was loose on the streets, free to kill again.
There are numerous other articles, especially from the Fort Worth Star-Telegram from reporters Melody McDonald and Deanna Boyd. Many of these articles are not online and must be accessed through Fort Worth Public Library Archives.
The Hunting Grounds is a multi-part series on the predators who made Fort Worth a dangerous place to be a woman in in the early to mid 1980s. I strongly recommend you read the first four parts of the narrative. Preview sets the scene, followed by Part One, Stranger in the Dark and Part Two: Cold Hit which discuss serial killer Curtis Brown and how the advances in science uncovered his crimes. This article is a continuation of Part Three: The Devil You Know.
Identifying the killer of Retha Stratton was the easy part. Within 48 hours of her murder, he was behind bars, but keeping him there would become a struggle. The typical time lapse from arrest to trial is on average a year in Tarrant County, but only 10 months after his arrest, Wesley Wayne Miller was on trial. Due to the intense publicity, the trial was moved to Ector County. There almost wasn’t a trial. Concerned with the lack of physical evidence as the trial date loomed, prosecutor Steve Chaney offered a plea of 35 years just one week before the trial to Miller’s defense team, attorneys Jack Strickland and Bill Lane.
Miller did not accept immediately and the plea offer was nixed by then District Attorney Tim Curry. Judge Gordon Gray intervened, saying Miller must be afforded the opportunity to accept or reject the offer before it could be withdrawn. He told the attorneys that he would honor the 35 year offer if Miller was inclined. He was not. The case would go to trial.
On one side were the citizens of River Oaks who firmly supported the Stratton family, sister Rona, parents A.J. and Doris. On the other, sat Miller’s parents Morris and Carol who believed in their son’s innocence. Carol repeatedly told the media that her son had been ‘tricked by the police’ into confessing. She did not believe he was responsible for the murder or the two sexual assaults he had been charged with.
He was charged with the rape of L.V., the 19 year old Saginaw woman after fingerprints at the scene were linked to Miller. He was a stranger and there was no legitimate reason for his prints to be in her house. He was also charged with rape of D.O. after a shoe print was determined to belong to a size 7 1/2 Kinney sneaker, a shoe Miller owned. She was one of the women who said her attacker ‘was built just like Miller.’ Miller was never charged in the other cases. Again, this was pre-DNA and there wasn’t any physical evidence. The cases discussed in The Devil You Know were all linked by identical M.O.: the victim was home alone, receiving mysterious calls and hang ups, they were attacked in their bedrooms by a man with dark hair, very muscular body but short, around 5 foot 9 inches, who wore a stocking over his head and said the same things to them and forced them to perform identical acts. The victims all had similar appearances and ages. Police had no doubt Miller was the rapist, but there just wasn’t the evidence to charge him in all the cases.
In fact, the judge ruled that evidence of the serial rapes was not admissible, and not just at the guilt or innocence phase. It wasn’t coming in at all, not even when deciding punishment. After a two week trial, the jury deliberated for five hours before finding Miller guilty. His attorneys fought hard on his behalf, doing what they were supposed to do. They challenged the voluntariness of Miller’s confession, but Retha’s family and friends were all smiles, holding hands as the verdict was read, sure this part of their nightmare was at an end. The punishment phase was short. Without the rapes to talk about, there was nothing else the prosecution could bring up to show Miller belonged behind bars. At that time, anyone not previously convicted of a felony was eligible for probation, even for murder. There was nothing else in Miller’s past they could argue. He had no issues with drugs or alcohol, no other crimes, no problems in school. He was the smiling, all American athlete, voted “Best All Around Student” of his class just the year before.
Not allowing the jury to know about the sexual assaults left them with only Miller’s version of events, his statement where he painted Retha as a “tease” who provoked him to violence with her actions. We will never know what truly caused Miller to escalate to murder, but a more likely scenario is that he broke in to rape Retha, but she recognized him and her killed her to shut her up. Her jammed her underwear in her mouth to make her be quiet, then stabbed her 38 times before slitting her wrists to make sure she would never tell his secrets. The facts were brutal, and they were all the prosecution had.
Steve Chaney argued for life in prison. Jack Strickland begged for probation, portraying his client as a scared kid. The jury compromised on 25 years. Both sets of parents burst into tears. As Strickland went over to comfort Miller’s parents, the judge remarked “That’s a win, Jack.” Privately, Strickland and Lane agreed. Everyone knew it was a light sentence. Tim Curry publicly promised Miller would be tried for the rape cases and Chaney assured the family that it would be more than seven years before Miller became eligible for parole. Because Miller had been convicted of a crime involving a deadly weapon, he would have to serve what was called ‘agg time’ meaning he would serve at least a third of his sentence before he became eligible for parole.
There was a clerical error at the Texas Department of Corrections. Even though an affirmative deadly weapon finding was listed on the judgment and sentence, Miller wasn’t listed as a an “agg” offender in their system. Due to prison overcrowding, the actual time served was often brief. Miller came up for parole in just two years.
At the time, victims weren’t notified and the parole hearing came and went without Retha Stratton’s family being aware, but Miller would come up for parole on a yearly basis and keeping Miller, and other sexually violent predators would become the life’s work of Retha’s sister, Rona Stratton, and her friend Lisa Gabbert, also a victim of Miller’s serial rape spree.
For years, they flooded the parole board with letters, petitions, even graphic photos of the crime scene, anything to remind them of what Miller had done. Instead of taking the rape cases to trial as promised, Tim Curry’s office allowed Miller to plead to one case, with a charge of Burglary with intent to commit sexual assault. The punishment was 20 years to run concurrent with time he was already serving. He would receive no additional time. Even worse, the clock was ticking because eventually Miller would be eligible for mandatory release.
Mandatory release is exactly what it sounds like. All prisoners were allowed to accrue “good time.” If Miller behaved himself in prison, he must be released when his years served plus good time equaled a specific number. For Miller, that came in 1991.
Rona and Lisa didn’t stop fighting. They fought Miller’s release back into the same community where he had lived. The idea of running into him at the local store, knowing he walked the same streets was unacceptable. He would not be allowed to return to Tarrant County. TDC had trouble finding a county willing to accept Miller. Each time after the public learned of Miller’s potential release to their community, the outcry forced them to find another location until Miller was quietly placed in Wichita Falls. Rona Stratton compared Miller to the New Jersey garbage barge that couldn’t find a place to dock. “Nobody wants this guy and I don’t blame ’em.”
Miller was finally free, but that wouldn’t last long. June 7, 1992, in Wichita Falls, Laura Barnard had done some late grocery shopping. It was 11:00 p.m. when she parked in front of her home to unload her car. She noticed a stranger, a man with long, dark hair standing near a white truck across the street. There was something in the way he stared at her that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She stared back and then man got into the truck, but as she came back out for another load of groceries, there he was again. Again she stared back, wanting the man to know she had seen him. Again, he acted as though he was leaving. She turned back to the car and as she was lowering the trunk, she heard footsteps. Startled, she looked up in time to see him charging at her, running full speed. She dropped the paper towels in her hands and ran into the house, calling for her husband.
They went outside to look. At first they didn’t see anything, but then she felt the stare and pointed him out. He was trying to hide behind a tree. “That’s him.” Both got a good look at Miller as he walked briskly away. They also got the license plate of his white truck. The truck was registered to his father, Morris. Miller was tried and convicted for Attempted Assault, and he was sent back to prison.
Rona and Lisa thought Miller would now serve the rest of his sentence, but five years later he was released again–sort of. This time he was required to spend most of his day in the Tarrant County jail, only being released for short periods with a GPS monitor on. Miller was escorted to counseling and job interviews. As a condition, the parole board ordered Miller to complete a Sex Offender Treatment Program. Miller refused. His attorney, Jeffrey Gooch called a press conference where he complained about his client’s treatment. He claimed that Miller had not technically been convicted of a sexual offense and therefore the parole board had overstepped their bounds.
Miller had pled guilty to that Burglary with intent to commit a sexual offense, so the requirement stuck. He had only thought he was getting a good deal, but it came back to bite him with a vengeance.
Senator Mike Moncrief declared “He will be the most monitored man in Texas.” Everyone was tense, waiting to see what would happen next. What happened, was that Miller refused to participate. The parole board revoked his release and he was sent back to prison for his refusal to participate in a Sex Offender Treatment Program. For the next six years, this would be the pattern. Each time he was given parole, he was immediately revoked for his stubborn refusal to agree to the rules, most particularly treatment. He seemed content to wait out his sentence. He would be released in 2007 with his entire sentence done. There would be no rules to follow, no monitoring, no counseling. Miller would be free.
But Rona Stratton and Lisa Gabbert had one more card to play, Title 11 of the Texas Health and Safety Code, also known as Civil Commitment of Sexually Violent Predators. Civil Commitment is a response to public frustration over the danger of repeat offenders. It’s a way to confine those with a high risk of recidivism after the completion of their criminal sentences and force them into treatment and monitoring. The first such legislation was in Washington in 1990. Texas passed Title 11 in 1999 with Rona Stratton and Lisa Gabbert as passionate advocates. Twenty states have Civil Commitment legislation which has been extremely controversial because they allow indefinite confinement for people deemed predatory through a “mental abnormality or personality disorder”. For a thorough discussion of the issues, see Kansas v. Hendricks in which the U.S. Supreme Court upheld the legislation providing there are sufficient procedural safeguards and that such legislation is for public safety and not merely punitive or Miller’s appeal from his Civil Commitment proceedings which challenged the Texas statute.
The Title 11 of the Texas Health and Safety Code begins with a legislative statement:
The legislature finds that a small but extremely dangerous group of sexually violent predators exists and that those predators have a behavioral abnormality that is not amenable to traditional mental illness treatment modalities and that makes the predators likely to engage in repeated predatory acts of sexual violence.
The law requires a person be a repeat sexually violent offender, meaning the person must be convicted of two or more offenses deemed “sexually violent.” Miller claimed not to be a sex offender but he had pled guilty to the Burglary with intent to commit sexual assault. That was one conviction, but Murder does not qualify unless it is found to have been sexually motivated. That specific language was added to the statute in 2005 as Miller’s release date drew near. Again, Retha’s sister was instrumental in seeing that legislation passed.
The procedure for declaring someone a Sexually Violent Predator is as follows. When a potentially eligible person grows close to release, they are referred for an evaluation by a multidisciplinary team for psychopathy and ‘behavioral abnormalities.’ If the committee decides the person meets definition of Sexually Violent Predator, they issue a petition to commit him. A jury trial follows in which both the state and the person are represented by counsel. The program is overseen by the Texas Civil Commitment Office.
In Miller’s case, the jury would have to hear the facts of Retha’s murder and make a determination if the crime was sexually motivated. The family would have to endure another trial. No murderer had yet to be committed as a sexually violent predator. The statute had only been used for pedophiles.
In 2006, Miller was sent for evaluation. He didn’t have many of the normal risk factors. No violent family history. No substance abuse. His refusal to admit guilt and refusal to participate in treatment could be used against him. He also refused to cooperate with the evaluation, insisting that he didn’t remember the actual murder. But the main evidence would be Retha’s crime and the other sexual assaults. Several of the women would finally have their chance to testify. It would be their only day in court, their only opportunity to confront Miller about what he had done. They sat in the courtroom where he could see them, even as the prosecutor showed the jury graphic photos of Retha’s body.
On Miller’s side was his father, brother, and an aunt. His mother had passed after a battle with Alzheimer’s. Morris Miller testified on his son’s behalf. “No matter what he’s done, he’s still my son. And I’ll love him forever. I feel like Wes has paid his debt to society. I believe he should get out, not one day more than the 25 year sentence at the most.”
The state offered the testimony of Dr. Kenneth Price, a forensic psychologist who labeled Miller a “sexual psychopath” and offered his opinion that he was likely to offend again.
After hearing about Miller’s full history, this jury took less than two hours to declare Miller a sexually violent predator. Upon release, he would be civilly committed with a long list of rules to follow and intense supervision. He would be ordered to undergo treatment. If Miller ever wanted to be released, he would have to attend treatment.
In 2007, Miller was released from TDC and required to live in a secure facility. He first went to another facility but was moved to live in Tarrant County’s Cold Springs Unit. He should have where he couldn’t prey on anyone else. After all, he had a long list rules and constant supervision. Although he was 46 at the time, he somehow began a romance with a female jailer who was only 21.
She wasn’t supposed to have contact with him. Any contact with Miller had with woman had to be approved by Miller’s supervising officer. But they could see each other, especially when she parked her truck so that he could past and see it. They would smile and wave at each other. The contact escalated to passing messages and sneaking conversations on the intercom. At the time she was still 20 and dazzled by this man everyone told her to stay away from because he was dangerous. They worked out a system to circumvent his phone privileges and the relationship began in earnest. When they were caught in the relationship, he was arrested and charged with violating his Civil Commitment. He pled guilty and was sentenced to 10 years in prison. He is still serving that sentence, but after that he will return to Civil Commitment, still unrepentant, still uncooperative. He has refused to discuss his crimes. But if he ever convinces the Texas Civil Commitment Office that he has been rehabilitated enough for release, you can be sure that Rona Stratton will be watching.
Next week, The Hunting Grounds will finally discuss one of the most notorious serial killers from Fort Worth, Juan Meza Segunda.
The Hunting Grounds is a multi-part series on the predators who made Fort Worth a dangerous place to be a woman in the early to mid 1980s. I strongly recommend you read the first three parts of the narrative, Preview which sets the scene, and Stranger in the Dark and Cold Hit which discuss serial rapist and murderer Curtis Don Brown. Originally part three was intended to Juan Mesa Segundo, but we will return to his story later. Instead we are moving out into the suburbs which seemed safer than the city, but that veneer of civility was an illusion.
Looking at their senior pictures side by side, Wesley Wayne Miller and Retha Stratton are the perfect, couple, the American ideal. Although the two were not dating, they were friends. Retha was a popular, bubbly cheerleader at Castleberry High. Miller was captain of the football team, a three-sport athlete voted “Best All Around Student” in 1981, their senior year. Miller wrote in Retha’s yearbook, “I’d like to get to know you better. Your [sic] the best looking girl in our school and I hope to see a lot of you this summer, Love Always Wesley.”
Castleberry ISD is in River Oaks, a small suburb north of Fort Worth known as a bedroom community for blue-collar families and for the nearby Carswell Airforce Base. Seniors are always glad to escape the confines of school, but for the class of ’81, they were especially glad to leave. Since the start of that year, a rapist had stalked the senior girls.
January 23, 1981, Susan Davis, 16, was home alone when a man entered her room. “He walks in with a stocking overt his head, his face, no shirt on, jeans with, you know, his zipper open. And at that point I realized something really bad was going to happen.” Dangerous Reunion, 48 hours
Susan ran, but the man caught her and began threatening her. “Don’t scream or I’m going to hit you.” The man began punching her in her face. He ripped her panties off. At some point, however, instead of completing the rape, he fled. She never found out what spooked him.
River Oaks police took a report, but with little physical evidence, there wasn’t much else they could do– but they did tell Susan it was likely someone she knew. “I had to go back into cheerleading. And I was paranoid all the time about ‘Is this person in the stands watching me?’”
The record isn’t clear what led police to this conclusion. A masked intruder would make most people think this was an attack by a stranger, but from the very start, police thought it was someone who knew the victims. Was it the assailant’s familiarity with the house? The fact he struck at a time when she would be alone? Or did they know that just by playing the odds, they were likely to be right, because most sexual assaults aren’t committed by strangers. In the 1980’s, the terminology was “date rape” which is an unfortunate choice. Rape and sexual assault have nothing to do with a “date gone wrong.” They are predatory, deliberate acts of violence. Now, the preferred terminology is “non-stranger” sexual assault. See, research and studies by Dr. David Lizak
In 1979, clinical psychologist Nicholas Groth set out to categorize different types of rapists. After working with both victims and offenders, he set out three specific types. First is the power rapist who derives comfort and satisfaction from dominating his victim. The second type is the anger rapist, who rapist is driven by rage against a specific group, women or men, causing him to lash out with violence. The third sort is the sadistic rapist who receives sexual gratification by causing pain to the victim. The types blend and rapists are most often a mix of these different elements.
The man who assaulted Susan showed multiple types. He gave specific orders to her, demonstrating control, but then hurt her, even as she complied. He left without completing the attack, which could have been a lack of confidence which is often found in power rapists.
Fortunately, studies have shown that most men aren’t rapists. How then do we account for the high level of rapes committed? One in four women is a victim of sexual assault. The answer is that most rapists are serial offenders. Studies show they often begin in adolescence and continue throughout their lives. This pattern held true here. The River Oaks Rapist wasn’t done with his one aborted attempt.
Retha Stratton graduated in May along with close friends and fellow cheerleaders Amy Moody and Lisa Gabbert. Retha and Amy got an apartment together and Retha went to work doing data entry for the Ralston Purina company . Unknown to them, another young woman was raped in November.
L. V. (a pseudonym), 19, was home alone on November 11, 1981 in the nearby town of Saginaw, when she received several mysterious phone calls. Each time, a male voice asked for a person she didn’t know and she told him that no such person was there. She fell asleep and when she awoke, it was to a nude man with a stocking covering his face kneeling over her in the bed. He ripped the phone from the wall and told her he was going to rape her. She struggled, even though the man said he would kill her if she didn’t do what he told her to. He physically assaulted her for some time before finally leaving. She immediately ran to her parents’ room and called her boyfriend. Sagniaw police processed the scene and came up with the first solid bit of evidence: a fingerprint on the telephone and in her bedroom. There were semen stains in her room, but this is before DNA. She described the man as muscular but only around 5 foot, six inches tall.
Police had a fingerprint, but the person it belonged to wasn’t in they system and without a known person to compare it to, that wasn’t much help. But it was something. The attack didn’t make the news.
It never occurred to Retha and her friends that they could become victims. Then on December 7, the unthinkable happened. Lisa woke up to find a man in her house, “And when I looked over I saw that someone was standing in the doorway with a red ski mask and panty hose over the mask. And he leapt on me. And we struggled. There was some choking. And then he tore back the covers. Opened my robe. And we struggled some more. And so he proceeded to rape me.” Dangerous Reunion, CBS 48 hours
Once again, the River Oaks Rapist demonstrate knowledge of his victim and her specific living situation. He walked right past Lisa’s disabled mother, who couldn’t move or speak, as if she were not even there, as if he knew she couldn’t interfere or become a witness. The rapist reminded Lisa of someone. She told a rookie patrolman that the man was built just like Miller, especially his arms. She didn’t think it was Miller. It couldn’t be Miller, of course, but she wanted the police to know that the attacker had the same exact build.
Miller’s girlfriend, Roxy McDonnell lived just across the street from Lisa and the very next day, her younger sister became a victim of the River Oaks rapist. Again, the rapist struck when the girl was home alone and once again, he reminded her of someone. According to the CBS 48 hours:
“And we had just said to the dad, ‘Well, he’s built like Wesley. And has arms like Wesley’s.’ And he says, ‘Wesley, come here.’ And he said, ‘Let me see your arm.’ And he pulls his arm over. He said, ‘You mean it look just like this?’ And we’re like, ‘Yeah,'” Lisa recalls. “And Wesley yanked his arm back and went upstairs. Without saying a word.”
Everyone was careful for a while. Shocked by the attack on their close friend, roommates Amy and Retha changed their locks, and didn’t come home alone, but gradually, they relaxed their guard. The River Oaks rapist stayed quiet for six weeks and life returned to normal for most people.
In 1982, Curtis Don Brown was still in prison for auto theft. Ted Bundy’s trials had faded from view. Instead recent news was the marriage of Lady Diana to Prince Charles, the identification of the AIDS virus, and the shooting of the Pope. The serial raps of teen girls in Texas suburbia was barely a blip on the local radar, much less the bigger news markets.
That would change on January 21, 1982. Amy came home to a scene of horror. A trail of blood led from the livingroom, down the hall into Retha’s room and back to the closet where her brutalized body lay partially in the closet as if she had fallen backwards. She had been stabbed 38 times with the majority of the wounds to her left breast. Her wrists had been slit and her bloody panties crammed into her mouth. She was nude from the waist down. The knife still protruded from her chest.
Locating the culprit wouldn’t take long. Miller’s pick up truck was spotted at Retha’s house around the time of the murder and he turned to his girlfriend, Roxy to help him hide the evidence. Claiming he had bloodied someone’s nose in a game of touch football, he handed her a pair of bloody jeans to wash. She took the jeans, but as soon as news of Retha’s murder broke, Roxy handed those jeans to the police. Police immediately began looking for Miller.
January 23rd, just two days after Retha’s murder, there was a sexual assault of a woman in Lake Worth. She received several phone calls from a male voice asking if “Ed” was there. The woman said there wasn’t a man in the house and hung up. Soon after, a young, athletic man around five foot nine inches and wearing a stocking over his head broke into the house and sexually assaulted her.
Miller was arrested later that day.
Within 48 hours, Miller was charged with Retha’s murder. He confessed to the Fort Worth detective C.D. Timmons, although he tried to lay much of the blame on Retha for her own murder. He told police that he went over to the house and Retha was “coming on to him.” He said they were kissing, but she refused to go further. Miller said this happened twice, that she would make sexual advances on him, but then back away. He said he lost his temper the second time and refused to stop “And we started fighting.” Next, he claimed Retha grabbed for a ‘ledge’ that was between the kitchen and the bedroom and a knife just fell to the floor. He thought she was maybe going to grab it, so he grabbed the knife instead and stabbed her. “I kind of lost my mind and I do not remember how many times I stabbed her . He said he hid her body in the closet and washed the knife, but then went back and slit her wrists to make sure she was dead. “I didn’t want her to tell on me,” he said. Then he thrust the knife into her chest and drove home.
As Retha’s heartbroken family and friends laid her body to rest, they at least had the relief of knowing that her killer wasn’t roaming free. What they couldn’t know, was that this was just the beginning of a decades long battle to keep Miller behind bars, a struggle that would make new laws and result in permanent changes to the way we treat sexually violent predators.
Next week, I will return with the next installment of the Hunting Grounds: Caging the Predator.
Information for this article came from the archives of numerous newspapers, chiefly the Fort Worth Star-Telegram , the Dallas Morning News, and AP stories. Additional information came directly from parole records and police reports.