The next post in The Hunting Grounds will be up later this week, but in the meantime, I wanted to share what keeps me going during my long commute. I haven’t reviewed a podcast in a while because life is busy and it’s messy and it’s summer in Texas. Summer means BBQ, lemonade, and tubing down the river. It also means lots of time sitting in the air conditioning listening to podcasts. So for this Monday, I want to shout out my top five favorite members of the Texas True Crime Posse.
I reviewed this podcast way back when they were shiny and new. Since then they have rapidly grown to dominate the Texas podcast scene, but in a good way. Husband and wife team Shea and Erin present cases in a conversational manner that still manages not to lose the narrative thread. Check out episode 22 which features an interview with yours truly. Extra thanks to Shea for working sound magic with my squeaky voice.
If you love a serious deep dive, this is the podcast for you. Also produced by a husband and wife team, Vince and Erica have crafted a single narrator podcast that stands out for the depth of their research and sensitive interviews with family and friends of victims. I reviewed them here last November. They’ve been on a hiatus, but are about to drop new episodes which makes this the perfect time to binge their list.
Texas 10-31 is the Houston PD code for a crime in progress. Texans Hannah and Cassie host a very conversational podcast mostly focused on the Houston area, but they move freely about the state when they feel like it. Because they cover two cases per episode, that’s a lot of territory. What they bring to the table is an unmatched level of passion for their topic. I reviewed them here and they returned the favor in a special minisode on March 14th.
This podcast is still in single digits, but host Krista has already made her mark on the podcast scene. She does an exceptional job of explaining what the law is and how the system works due in no small part to her career as an investigator. This podcast includes interviews placed seamlessly into the narrative. I highly recommend 10-4 Little Lady for an episode that will punch you in the gut. I haven’t reviewed this podcast yet, but you can be sure I’ll correct that soon.
New kid on the block is Murder City, True Crime of Houston. The hosts offer a glimpse of the diverse communities that make up the fourth largest city in the nation. This is a dual host with a conversational style. I’m looking forward to seeing where this podcast goes and I will definitely review them when they get a few more episodes under their belt.
BONUS! I said I was giving you a top five, but this is Texas and we always do things bigger.
The above podcasts are all dedicated to true crime. Tx Files covers everything from crime to ghost stories, weird history, and aliens. Hosted by two men named Michael, this humorous podcast is a wild, weird ride. Definitely worth a listen as are all the podcasts on this list.
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 two parts of the narrative, Preview which sets the scene, and Stranger in the Dark which discusses how Brown was first caught.
If you don’t know who the Bass brothers are, then you ain’t from around here. Sundance Square, the thirty-five blocks of restaurants and shopping at the heart of downtown Fort Worth, is their creation. They oversee the Sid W. Richardson Foundation, pumping millions of dollars into the economy, but individually, the brothers have their own interests. Ed Bass is the odd, quirky brother, dedicated to the arts. In the early 80s, he had dreams of a downtown apartment in the heart of an arts district. Such a place didn’t exist, so he created one.
In 1983, Ed Bass founded Caravan of Dreams with Kathelin Hoffman. Named from 1001 Arabian Nights, it was part nightclub, part recording studio, part bar, with living quarters for Ed, staff and artists and a roof top desert garden–but the bread and butter, the life in Caravan of Dreams, was the live jazz nightclub. Terece Gregory, 29, had a love/hate relationship with the place. She worked there periodically as a waitress. She was fired. She was rehired. She was let go again. The club had a reputation as place where sex and drugs could be easily had. The early 80s were a time of excess and Terece enjoyed what life offered. Even after she had been let go by the club, she remained friendly with the staff and often hung out there. She was no wild party girl, though. Friends remember her as tidy and quiet. She was reserved but also social, preferring company to being alone. She liked reading and sewing.
Just before the afternoon rush hour on May 29, 1985 a Fort Worth officer responded to an abandoned car call. The car was slightly blocking traffic at 5550 Bridge Street which runs parallel to I-30. He found a white and maroon Pontiac with both right side tires blown and a dent in the front. The car appeared to have struck a curb and come to a stop. He ran the registration, noted that it returned to a Patricia Gregory, and arranged for a tow.
Meanwhile, Patricia Gregory was at the Fort Worth police department filing a missing persons report. She told police that she lived with her daughter who had gone out with her boyfriend, but didn’t come home. This wasn’t like her daughter at all. Terece would have called or come home by now. Shortly after moving to the Metroplex, Terece had become the victim of a sexual assault in Dallas. The man was only given probation and Terece was extremely vigilant when out after dark.
Terece had taken Patricia’s Pontiac in order to have a reliable car. Her own car was aging and she was always very nervous driving alone. Patricia gave police a photo and a description. Terece was 5 foot 10 with green eyes and curly brown hair. A grown woman who didn’t come home after a night partying with her boyfriend didn’t sound like much of a crime. Still, a detective dutifully began calling jails, hospitals, morgue, looking for Terece. Then someone ran the license plate and discovered the tow. The mild concern became real alarm. To the detective’s trained eye, it looked like Terece had been “curbed”, that is, run off the road until her tires blew out and then kidnapped. She was only six blocks from home.
Sadly, the detective’s instinct would prove correct. May 30th, a young man went to his favorite fishing spot during his lunch hour. He often fished the Trinity at lunch, especially near the Rockwood Golf Course, but today, as he readied his equipment, he noticed something floating about 15 feet from shore. It appeared to be the body of a woman face down wearing a dark skirt and blouse with spaghetti straps. He hoped it was a mannequin, of course it wasn’t. It’s never a mannequin. He hooked the skirt with a line and pulled it close enough to determine it really was the body of a woman. Then he called the police.
This case was originally assigned to Detective J.D. Roberts. The case would remain his until the day he retired. Roberts, who just passed at the age of 89 on February 14, 2018, had a colorful career, but this was one case that frustrated him. Robbery was quickly ruled out. The woman had been dumped still wearing her watch and jewelry. Her cause of death was obvious, a gunshot wound to the face. Roberts was fairly certain he was looking at the corpse of Terece Gregory.
He reached out to the two people he most needed to speak with, her mother Patricia and boyfriend, J.D. Bartlett. Roberts showed Patricia the rings and watch and she began to cry. Bartlett agreed to do the identification so Patricia would be spared.
The autopsy confirmed that Terece had been sexually assaulted due to vaginal bruising and the presence of semen. The biological evidence was collected and stored, an act that would later mean everything to the case. Cause of death was a single gunshot wound from a .38 caliber weapon from intermediate range, not point blank, but not far. Her blood alcohol concentration showed her to be moderately intoxicated.
Terece Gregory’s last photo
Roberts quickly determined that the last person to see Terece alive had been her boyfriend. Did he own a .38? Bartlett confirmed that he did. Terece and Bartlett met than night around six at Caravan of Dreams. They drank and visited with friends. One of Terece’s friends, bartender Michael McCreary, took a photo of her, her last photo. Her earrings and sandals were the only things missing from the night, but they were hook earrings, easily lost in the currents of the Trinity.
Terece and Bartlett left the nightclub and went to Sammy’s for dinner with friends. One of the people they went with was a piano tuner. At Sammy’s, he spotted someone he knew, famed pianist Van Cliburn. Van Cliburn was interviewed by police and he remembered Terece as quiet an introspective.
It was approximately 2 am when Bartlett took Terece back to the parking lot at Caravan of Dreams where she had left her car. He said he walked her to her car, saw her get into it and pull out from 312 Houston Street. She turned left and he got in his car to drive the other way. Police were deeply suspicious of Bartlett. His criminal history wasn’t spotless and they were certain this case wasn’t related to all the other murders of young women. They even said so to the Fort Worth Star-Telegram repeatedly. Bartlett was asked to submit to a polygraph which he failed. To police, this solidified him as their primary suspect, but when they compared his weapons to the bullet from Terece’s body, it wasn’t a match.
Roberts exhausted every lead he had, but nothing moved the case. The case went dormant, but the one key to solving it was there all along, just waiting for science to catch up with nature. In 2005, CODIS spurred Fort Worth to finally create a cold case unit. The unit was actually a team of one, Detective Manny Reyes who worked out of a glorified closet, patiently sorting through jumbled boxes of cases and notes for cases with possible biological evidence.
The news came in an envelope. The DNA taken from Terece Gregory’s sexual assault kit had a match, a “cold hit.” Reading Curtis Don Brown’s file, several things jumped out. Terece’s car had been found on Bridge Street, just one block from the apartments where Brown’s last victim Jewell Woods lived. Like Jewell, Terece had encountered Brown in one location, but was taken and killed at another place and her body somewhat concealed. The cold hit had come just in time. Brown had been in prison for life, but after 19 years, he had just become eligible for parole. Thankfully, they had new charges filed before he was released.
Flush with the success, Det Reyes reached out to other departments. Based upon the similarities between Terece Gregory’s murder and other unsolved crimes from the same time period, he believed he had just identified a serial predator. He was correct.
One of the detectives he reached out to was Arlington Detective Jim Ford. When it came to submitting cold case profiles, there was one case at the top of Ford’s list, a case that had always haunted him: the murder of 18 year-old Sharyn Kills Back.
Sharyn Kills Back grew up on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota. A member of the Oglala Sioux Tribe, she was the youngest girl of 9 siblings. Life on the reservation wasn’t easy and Sharyn wanted a chance to experience the world. At the age of sixteen, she had a chance to attend the Clearfield Job Corp Center in Utah where minority students could participate in a vocational education program.
At the completion, students were allowed to choose a location: California, Georgia, or Texas. Sharyn’s sister Blanche wanted her to choose California, but Sharyn chose Arlington, Texas. Her family couldn’t understand that choice, but Sharyn had met someone in the program. Barbara Bouknight was coming to Texas, so Sharyn would as well.
Portrayals in the media all describe the women as “roommates” and an episode of Swamp Murders goes so far as to suggest an upstairs neighbor might have been romantically involved with Sharyn. But reading the original reports and statements, everyone was very clear that Barbara and Sharyn were a couple. They were in love and lived openly as lesbians. Barbara and Sharyn were especially good friends with another couple in the same Meadowbrook Apartment complex, Josie and Richard. The two couples socialized frequently and soon Josie and Richard’s friends were also Sharyn and Barbara’s friends.
Sharyn was petite, but feisty. She was extremely outgoing and made friends everywhere. She was also enjoying life in a city, far different from her upbringing. Like many 18 year olds away from home for the first time, she drinking and going out almost every night. Sharyn and Barbara had been working at the Arlington location of Miracle Paint and Body Shop, but Sharyn had some sort of problem there and changed to a different location for the same business.
Sharyn’s mother worried. She enjoyed the letters she got from her daughter, but Sharyn had no car and walked everywhere, including at night. She repeatedly warned her daughter that the city wasn’t safe, this wasn’t South Dakota. Sharyn dismissed her mother’s concerns. She was perfectly safe. Sure, the news was full of stories about women in Fort Worth going missing, but this was Arlington.
Arlington is halfway between Fort Worth and Dallas. It had always been part of a greenbelt between the D and the FW, but in the 80s, the urban sprawl had encroached from both sides and Arlington was rapidly transforming into a formidable city of its own.
March 15, 1985, Sharyn wanted to go out, while Barbara was tired after working all day. Sharyn, always persistent, initially convinced Barbara to go with her. They set off on foot after dark to meet friends while carrying a “boombox” or portable stereo. Think John Cuisack from “Say Anything.” Along the way, they began to quarrel. Barbara decided she’d had enough and announced she was going back to their apartment. Sharyn said she was still going to meet friends. They parted and Barbara went down about a block along East Park Row. When she turned back, Sharyn was gone. She would never see her girlfriend alive again.
When Sharyn didn’t come home that night, Barbara first thought she was still angry from the argument and must be staying with friends, but a few phone calls on the 16th showed her this wasn’t the case. Police protocol at that time didn’t consider a person missing until 48 hours, so Sharyn wasn’t officially a missing person until the 17th. On the 17th, Barbara filed the missing persons report.
Sharyn’s family was also concerned. They’d just had a letter from her on the 14th that she was coming home for a visit in two weeks, however her uncle had a heart attack. Her sisters had been calling for her repeatedly to let her know and see if she could come home right away. Sharyn had always called right back, but now they only had silence.
March 23rd, Barbara saw a story on the news that chilled her to the core and she immediately called the police. A plumber working on new residence construction on Bandera drive stopped to throw some cardboard boxes into a storm drain, when he saw what looked like a shoulder and arm. He drew close enough to confirm there was a body and backed away to call the police.
The body of a young woman had been wedged down into the drain, rolled onto her side as if she were sleeping. It was necessary to remove the nearby manhole cover to retrieve her. Around her neck, a hemp rope had been tightly knotted. There was significant trauma to one side of her head as if she had been beaten and blood had pooled underneath her in the drain. While it was muddy and damp in there, she wasn’t lying in water. She was fully dressed which at first led investigators to believe she hadn’t been sexually assaulted. There was no ID on the woman, but she had several tattoos including the initials SKB on her hand.
Barbara went to the police and identified the body of her girlfriend. She blamed herself. “Maybe she would still be alive today if only I had gone with her that day. I don’t think this guy would have gotten both of us if I were there.”
The injuries to Sharyn’s neck told a grim story. Her killer had knotted the ligature around her neck, yanked her around, leading her like an animal before strangling her with the two foot rope. Although 1985 technology wasn’t able to detect the presence of sperm, samples of everything, including cuttings from Sharyn’s underwear, were taken and preserved in a refrigerated setting.
Immediate suspicion was focused on the men who knew Sharyn, especially her friend Richard and an upstairs neighbor who went by the name Patrick at that time. Patrick was from Africa and had a wife who lived in another city. He was friendly with Sharyn according to Barbara. When police interviewed him, he claimed they had a few sexual encounters, but that was the extent of it. Other friends disputed his claim to have had a sexual relationship with Sharyn, saying she was only interested in lesbian relationships and was not bisexual. Regardless of the truth, that was his story. Police administered several polygraphs, and like Terece Gregory’s boyfriend, JD Bartlett, Patrick failed multiple polygraph exams. Police were extremely suspicious of him, but there was no actual evidence he was related to Sharyn’s murder.
Her family wanted to come to Texas, but were financially unable to afford it. They were forced to watch from South Dakota as the trail gradually went cold. Three years later, Sharyn’s mother passed away due to complications from diabetes. She would never see justice for her daughter. Sharyn’s father would all pass away, leaving her sisters and Barbara to wait and watch. For 19 years they held onto that hope.
In 2005, emboldened by the success in other cities, Arlington set to work on their old cases. Using vastly improved testing techniques, they identified biological material from Sharyn’s vaginal swabs and underwear and soon had a profile of the offender to submit to CODIS. Like Reyes, Jim Ford received an envelop with confirmation of the cold hit. Charges had already been filed on Brown for the murder of Terece Gregory. Ford was eager to add another murder charge for Sharyn, but there was one more step.
CODIS hits aren’t proof that can be used in court. Because they are remote matches, they can only be used as probable cause in order to take DNA. That means police needed to get a search warrant and swab Brown’s cheek for a DNA comparison to confirm the match.
Fort Worth detectives Johnson and Carroll went to see Brown in prison. First they spoke to several inmates familiar with him. Everyone they spoke to indicated Brown wasn’t a popular guy. He masturbated daily while others were around and was always focused on “perverted things.” He was prone to starting fights. One inmate said Brown talked about killing women. He said Brown told him he was in prison because he met a woman at a bar, raped her and bashed her head in with a rock before dumping her body in the Trinity. He told of other claims Brown had made of killing a nurse with two children and beating a woman to death in Cleburne with a baseball bat. He also claimed to have killed a woman in River Oaks. The details sound like Brown was adding in bits and pieces from crimes he committed but confusing them.
Brown agreed to speak with them. He especially focused on Johnson, a female detective, staring at her breasts in a predatory manner. The detectives asked him about Jewell Woods. Brown said he was with some guys and was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. He wouldn’t admit to killing her, but just kept saying that he pled guilty and they shouldn’t ask him about it. They moved onto Terece Gregory. Brown said that he didn’t know her, but “his memory wasn’t good.”
When police mentioned they had evidence linking him to her murder, he didn’t seem surprised at all. They told him they wanted to speak with him about all the unsolved murders of women in the area from that time. Again, he didn’t seem upset or surprised. They managed to get him talking about Jewell Woods by showing him offense reports. He pointed out how he gone in through the window and for the first time admitted killing her.
He refused to speak about other cases. “You’re going to kill me,” he explained and added that he wanted to die a “natural death.” He was afraid of the death penalty. He shrugged off mentions about his DNA being found at crime scenes and remarked “DNA isn’t wrong.” He did indicate that he might be willing to cooperate if he was brought back to Fort Worth and taken to the various crime scenes and if the death penalty was off the table. Police probed more to see if he would give him a number of murders, telling him that they thought he was responsible for many more than the three, but he danced around their questions. As the detectives were leaving, he called out to them “What you’re thinking” about their being more murders, “you’re not wrong,” he said.
Brown pled guilty to the murders of Terece Gregory and Sharyn Kills Back. He received two more life sentences stacked on top of the one he was already serving, guaranteeing he would spend the rest of his life in prison. Terece’s brother was angry at prosecutors for not seeking the death penalty, but Sharyn’s family was relieved not to have to live through a trial. “I wanted to shout out loud” her sister said on hearing the news. “I’m only sad our parents aren’t here to share it.”
Offender Profile: Curtis Don Brown, B/M DOB 8/2/58
Known victims: white and Native American, ages 18, 28, and 51; Survivors: white and Hispanic, ages 29 and 30
MO: blunt force trauma, ligature strangulation, .38 gun, burglary through window, transporting victim to another location, sexual assault, disposing of body in or near water
Locations: Fort Worth/Houston Street, Pearl St., Bridge Street, Trinity River, Rockwood Golf Course; Arlington/East Park Row, Bandera
Timeline: Paroled 1983. Arrested May 29, 1986.
In two weeks, the Hunting Grounds will continue with another possible suspect for the unsolved Fort Worth homicides, Juan Mesa Segundo. The murder of Vanessa Villa, 11 shocked and horrified the community. Who would rape and murder a child in her own bedroom. It was the first murder case Detective Reyes worked and one he wouldn’t solve for decades.
Additional information can be obtained from Star-Telegram archives at the Fort Worth Public Library and through Open Records requests for primary sources.
SWAMP MURDERS: I almost didn’t include this in my sources because there are so many errors. First, Sharyn wasn’t found anywhere near a swamp. She wasn’t in water. It was a street and a storm drain. Second, I have an issue with the way they “scrub” her identity. The portrayal of her and of Barbara and of their relationship is extremely inaccurate and unfair to the women. Ultimately, I did include it because of the footage of Sharyn’s sisters talking about their memories of her. It’s a PPV on YouTube.
Burglary is a gateway crime. Just as some recreational substance users will enjoy a few drinks and a little smoke without ever progressing to the so-called ‘hard’ drugs like cocaine or methamphetamine, so do some burglars remain just that. Burglars. For them, it’s about theft, stealing. Get in. Get the stuff. Get out. The most common time for burglaries is daytime, not night. Burglars don’t want to confront anyone. They hit when you’re at work or when you’re known to be out of town. They hit closed businesses. They just want your stuff. Money is the motivation.
These crimes are neither pure impulse not extensively planned, just a bit of each.
But for another sort of person, being in someone’s house becomes the ultimate rush. They become aware they’re violating a sacred space. They can do anything, touch anything. It’s power. They plan their crimes, stalking the location. They watch from a distance. They hunt–until just being inside isn’t enough anymore. They need more of the adrenaline and so they escalate. The stalking becomes as important as the execution. They need the illicit thrill. Behavior addiction is a real thing and once a burglar moves past the simple desires of a monetary motivation to an emotional one, barriers break down. The larger the violation, the more intense the rush. Add someone with the tendencies of a sexual sadist into the mix, and things get very dangerous.
Curtis Don Brown was such a man.
He already had a history of violent crime before he ever made his way to the streets of Fort Worth. December 13, 1976, Curtis Brown, 21 was a Marine assigned to Camp Pendleton in California when he committed his first known crime. Brown robbed a man by the Lucky Inn on Hawthorne Boulevard. He was spotted running past the location by police. A woman ran out after Brown, pointing and shouting that he had just robbed a man. Police gave chase, finally locating Brown lying on the floor of a tool shed. He was uncooperative, refusing to even identify himself.
Police went in to speak to the victim and found him seriously injured. He hadn’t responded quickly enough to suit Brown during the robbery. He’d fired a shot in the air and then savagely kicked in the victim’s face with his boots. Police were able to locate Brown’s wallet in the tool shed where he was hiding, along with the victim’s wallet and a pistol. The robbery cost him his career as a Marine, but he didn’t spend much time in jail.
In November 26, 1978, Brown was staying in an Amarillo motel with his girlfriend, who knew him by the name James Ware, Jr., an alias he would frequently use along with another nickname: Bandit. Brown left his girlfriend at the motel and went to a nearby small grocery store. On the way, he spotted an acquaintance named Hutchison and asked him for a ride. In the store, he robbed the clerk at gunpoint of $3,000. He ran back out of the store and jumped in Hutchison’s car. Hutchison noticed Brown had a sack and a pistol now. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had just happened. He was afraid, so he drove Brown around until Brown was satisfied they hadn’t been followed and he jumped from the car.
Hutchison was only too happy to cooperate. He told police everything he knew about “Bandit.” Brown was arrested a couple months later in a stolen car. He pled guilty in 1979. Brown was paroled in 1983 and came to Fort Worth where his mother was living. In 1983, there were a series of unsolved stranger rapes where a man came in through the window at night. July of 1984, Brown married a woman and had a daughter, but that did nothing to settle him down. He drank heavily, used cocaine and only worked sporadically at unskilled labor. That year, eight women went missing from the area near where Brown lived. Some would surface as bodies. Still others would never be found.
June 20, 1985, Patricia Morales, 29, was home alone in her Hulen Place Apartment when she heard a sound at her bedroom window screen. Cautiously, she came into the room. The screen had been removed. The window hung open. Before she could turn around, a man grabbed her from behind, roughly demanding to know where her husband was. Hoping to scare the man away, she claimed her husband was in the apartment’s other bedroom. She told the man she had a little money. He could have it if he would just leave.
He forced her to come with him to the bedroom, then turned on her angrily when there was no one there. Taking her chance, she grabbed up a metal rod, striking him with it. She only made him angrier. He took the rod away from her and hit her several times. He put a pillow case over her head and forced her to lie on the floor while he ransacked the room. She reminded him about the money in her purse. She had been to the bank. Her cash was in an envelope. Again, she promised he could have her money if he would just leave.
He retrieved the money and went to the front door, dragging her with him. Patricia hadn’t been silent. She had screamed as she was being hit and a neighbor heard. The neighbor alerted the apartment’s armed security. He was at the front door as the man tried to leave. The man roughly pulled Patricia in front of him as a human shield and they backed into the apartment. Thankfully, the neighbor had also called Fort Worth Police Department. As they rolled into the parking lot, Patricia wrenched herself free from the man’s grip and ran screaming towards the police.
Police arrested the man and transported Patricia to the hospital where she would be treated for lacerations and broken bones. The man had a bank envelope with Patricia’s money in it and a pair of white, cotton gloves. Police identified him as Curtis Don Brown, a man with no criminal history in the city of Fort Worth. They assumed he was an over-eager burglar. Within hours, Brown had posted bond and was released. He gave a Houston Street address, just 8 miles from where Patricia lived.
Patricia didn’t know it at the time, but she had just survived an encounter with a serial killer, a man who had already killed twice at least, and would kill again.
February 24, 1986, Brown struck again, this time in Arlington.
Debra Hodges, 30 was sitting home alone, watching some TV before bed. It was close to midnight and she was ready to call it quits when a sound at her back window caught her attention. Looking out her patio door, she spotted a man crouched down trying to remove her screen. He looked up at her and both were startled. The man turned and fled, jumping over a wooden fence, but not before she got a good look at him. As Debra was standing on her patio pointing things out to the Arlington officer who had responded to her call, they heard a commotion. Apartment security was chasing a man through the complex, telling him to stop. She was astonished to recognize the man by his clothing. “That’s him,” she exclaimed. The Arlington Officer joined in the chase and he and the security guard brought the man, soon identified as Curtis Don Brown, back for Debra to see.
Looking in his face, she had no doubts. “That’s the man.”
The security guard told the police that a woman had just pointed out Brown as a man who had been following her outside and ‘sexually harassed her’ in the laundry room to the point she became frightened. The woman left before the security officer got her information. The Arlington officer read Brown his rights and asked if he understood them. Brown cussed at him and said, “What rights?” He gave various stories about why he was in the apartment complex. The officer noted Brown’s boots. There had been boot prints in the soil of the flower beds outside Debra’s apartment. A man, one of substantial size, had stood there for some time, watching Debra through her window. Brown was 6’2, 200 pounds, and very muscular.
Brown was placed under arrest for attempted burglary. This time he spent three days in jail before posting bond and being released.
May 29, 1986, Fort Worth Officers Galloway and Dunn were working undercover in response to the increased crimes in the area. As the officers cruised the 6000 block of Brentwood Stair, just after midnight, a man emerged from the shadows. He kept away from the street lights, but they could see him. Sweating, nervous, he looked around sharply. Under his arm, wrapped in a towel, were two purses.
As the officers cruised past, the man made an effort to hide the purses, shifting them to his other arm and pulling down the towel. The officers circled, moving to a parking lot the man would pass by while they kept him in careful view. When the man was fifteen feet from the officers, they stepped out and showed badges. The man paused, and then took off running behind the Autumn Moon restaurant.
Dunn pursued while Galloway called for back-up. Dunn followed the man into an overgrown vacant lot in the 5600 block of Charlotte Street, just a block south of Brentwood Stair. Back-up was there within seconds, two more officers joined the chase. All four men were now chasing the man who still clutched the purses as he ran past the Amblewood Apartments, running parallel to a viaduct which stretched north and south. The viaduct was fifteen feet tall and twenty-five feet wide, it’s concrete walls slanted at a difficult angle, but the water underneath was just a trickle, the ground mossy and slick, and the man decided to use it to escape. Galloway caught the man’s leg just as he leapt for the edge. The man kicked and tried to pull free, but he was caught. His hands went to Galloway’s hip. He struggled with the officer for his gun. Instead he came away with the officer’s radio which he threw in the shallow water.
It took all four officers to subdue the man. They had to pry the purses from his hands, even as he fought them. He was reluctant to give them up. One of the purses was empty, but the other had a wallet and credit cards in them, all in the name Jewell T. Woods. A more careful search of the area would locate a black bra and a pair of women’s glasses, items that had fallen out of the purse.
They patted the man down and put him in the car, locating a syringe of narcotics in the process. They read him his Miranda Warnings, which he waived and agreed to answer questions. He claimed to have taken the purses from three men outside the Circle K gas station. He said the men had accosted him with racial slurs so he kicked them in the necks and took their purses. These were clearly women’s purses and the police weren’t buying, especially as he refused to identify himself and continued making attempts to escape. As they put him the back, he commented, “This is the third one for me. I’ll be doing the bitch.”
Doing “the bitch” or “high bitch” refers to someone being punished as a habitual offender. If it is proven that an offender has had two sequential convictions for third degree or higher offenses that included a trip to the pen, punishment for the third offense is 25 years to life. He wasn’t going to do anything to help them lock him away.
Concerned for the woman whose information was in the purse, they went to her home, the apartments at 6051 Bridge Street. They could see the screen had been pried off a window. Their knocks went unanswered. Afraid Jewell Woods, 51, might be injured inside, they tried the doorknob and found it open. Inside, the lights and television were on. A partially drunk glass of tea sat beside an evening chair with the evening paper and a pair of eyeglasses perched on the stuffed arms, as if someone had just stepped out. But there were also indications that this wasn’t what had happened. Clothing was strewn everywhere, including a pair of women’s panties in the entry way. Drawers had been pulled out. The door to the bathroom was damaged and appeared to have been kicked in.
Police knocked on doors. The next door neighbor said he had heard sounds of a commotion and Jewell’s dog yelping or whining just a half hour before midnight. At least, he thought it had been her dog. Now he wasn’t sure. There had also been some yelling, but he minded his own business. Jewell’s keys were in the stolen purse and her car was located in the parking lot, still locked. The dog, an Irish Setter named Emmy Lou, was also missing. Could she have stepped out to walk the dog? It didn’t seem likely she would walk out and leave the door unlocked, but there was no blood, no evidence of injury.
They contacted everyone they could think of based upon the information in her purse: her cousin, her uncle, her son, her many friends. Police then secured the scene, while leaving information for her to contact them upon returning home. That call never came. Instead, they heard from her employer the next morning when she didn’t show up for work. This was very out of character for the 51 year-old nurse. An immediate search began for Jewell.
Brown had been booked into jail for burglary and drugs. This time he gave his address as 3310 Pearl Street, his mother’s residence.
As word of the missing woman hummed across the grapevine, other residents of the apartment complex came forward to say they had witnessed a man who didn’t live there walking around at night. All of them described his clothing and said he was a tall, black male with a red shirt and red shorts. One woman saw him walking away with the items wrapped in a towel. The woman identified Curtis Brown from a photo spread. One man wasn’t sure, but he did place a question mark by Brown’s picture. He had seen the man from a balcony, but Jewell’s apartment was on the ground floor and he didn’t get a good look at the man’s face, however he was sure the man was wearing a red shirt and shorts. At the time of his arrest, Curtis Brown was wearing red shirt and shorts.
At the other end of the breezeway from Jewell’s apartment lived a woman named Becky. Becky complained to maintenance that night that the lights along their hall were all burnt out. The maintenance man who responded discovered the lights weren’t all burnt, nor were they malfunctioning. They’d all been unscrewed, making the breezeway dark. Detectives spoke with Becky. She was expecting her boyfriend, so when there was a knock on her door, she jerked it open. Instead of her boyfriend, there was tall, black male whom she didn’t know wearing a red shirt and shorts. He had a something in his hand covered by a towel. He stared at her for a minute. “Wrong door,” he said and walked away.
It was 11:30 am, just hours after police had left the apartment when they located her partially nude body in a stand of brush of a steeply slanted vacant lot just a short distance east of her apartment complex. She had been left face down, arms outstretched as if embracing the ground, wearing only a red and blue checkered shirt.
The soft ground told a story. Near the top of the slope there was a depression the size of Jewell’s head and a bloody rock. Drag marks led down to her body. The cause of death was obvious due to the damage done to her head. She had been beaten to death with that rock. There was bruising around the neck which indicated there had been some strangulation, but that was not fatal. The autopsy would confirm she had been sexually assaulted.
Brown’s movements could be tracked by his shoe prints. He left prints around the scene with diamond-shaped tread which matched his shoes. His clothing was examined and they found vegetation from the crime scene in his shorts. Blood on his shirt and underwear was type O, consistent with the victim.
Authorities believed he had come in through the front window. Jewell must have come into the room and seen him. She fled into the bathroom, but he broke in the door. They struggled and she broke free and ran, leaving the door open. He pursued her and caught her across the street where he raped her and killed her, then dragged her body farther from the road. He went back to steal, helping himself to two of her purses, one with her wallet and credit cards. As for the bra and eyeglasses, those were possibly trophies.
The Irish Setter, Emmy Lou, was found by a friend of Jewell’s and put in a kennel.
Murder in the course of committing sexual assault or burglary is a capital offense. The death penalty was on the table, but Brown agreed to plead guilty in exchange for a life sentence. He also pled guilty to the burglaries.
Police were suspicious there were more crimes. They received information that Brown had been “robbing white women” for some time. He fenced the items he stole from these women with a drug dealer he was friendly with. The items were usually small, credit cards and jewelry items. They were also highly suspicious of a series of unsolved rapes that had occurred in 1983.
January 22, 1983, a black female, 36, living at 1502 East Canon woke up to find a man on top of her in the bed. He held his hand over her mouth and told her he would kill her if she didn’t cooperate. She was terrified, not just for herself, but for her young son. He sexually assaulted her. At one point, her son came out into the living room and saw the man on top of his mother. The man allowed him to go to the bathroom, then instructed the child to go back to bed. The boy saw the man, a black male, rifling through his mother’s purse. After the man left, the woman was afraid to leave the house. She showered around 4 am, then worked up her nerve to call the police. They arrived to see that the man had come in through the front window which had a broken lock. The screen had been pried open. Police spoke with the woman and the little boy who said he thought he recognized the man. He told police where he had seen the man before. January 25th, police spoke with the woman who said she had nothing to add. Police suspended the investigation that same day as unsolvable.
July 12, 1983, white female, 33, residing at 708 Grainger awoke to a noise. A man was in the room with her. He was a slender black male and told her to cooperate or he would “cut her.” He covered her head with a blanket and sexually assaulted her.
November 9th, a black female living at 1023 E. Magnolia woke up with a man on top of her. He had a hand over her mouth. The man dragged her outside to her back yard where he sexually assaulted her. After the man left, she ran to a neighbor to call police. She described him as a black male, around the age of 25 with facial hair and a slight build. She had just moved to this house a month before from 1013 East Canon, just blocks from the first rape, because her house there had been repeatedly burglarized.
There were other rapes, but they all had common threads, certain things that were done and said by the rapist that later led police to think they might have been the same man, a slender, black male with facial hair. In 1983, Brown was fresh from prison and far more slender than he was in 1986. Due to old statute of limitation laws, those rapes could not be prosecuted now and it’s doubtful the sexual assault kits were ever sent for testing, if they were even preserved.
Jewell Wood’s son was unhappy with plea bargain. He wanted to face the man in court. He wanted the death penalty. It was only later that he realized he was lucky to have a resolution. If Brown hadn’t been stopped fleeing from the scene, he too might have waited 19 years to know who killed his mother, because that’s how long it would take for Woods other crimes to come to light.
Curtis Brown’s Fort Worth crimes didn’t begin with Jewell Woods. It didn’t even begin with Patricia Morales. We can’t be sure exactly when it did start, but do know he had started killing by March 23, 1985.
April 2004 began the cold case revolution for Texas as the prison system began taking DNA from prisoners entering the system. That year alone they solved 14 murders and 81 sexual assaults. There was a renewed interest in old cases. Both Fort Worth and Arlington assigned a detective to pursue cold cases. In 2005 came a new mandate: test everyone in prison who came in before April 2004. Cold case detectives excitedly combed evidence records, looking for potential biological links.
For Fort Worth cold case detective Manny Reyes, that meant sorting through the city’s 764 “unsolvable homicide” files that had been boxed and stacked in a room in no particular order. Cases with preserved bio evidence were his first priority. He analyzed and cataloged cases, submitted the evidence for proper testing and sent profiles to CODIS for comparison. It was tedious work, but the results were undeniable. Within months, he got his first hit on a 19 year old murder to a man already sitting behind bars: Curtis Don Brown. That “cold hit” was just the start.
Next week, we will take a look at two very different women, Terece Gregory and Sharyn Killsback, two lives forever tied together by their violent end, and by the DNA that would unravel the mysteries of their deaths in part two of The Hunting Grounds: Cold Hit.
Fort Worth was a dangerous place to be a woman in the early 80s. They were vanishing, dying and being attacked in unprecedented numbers for the area. The women were white, black, Hispanic and native American. They were shot, strangled, and bludgeoned. They lived everywhere from the working class streets of south side to more genteel ones of TCU. They were moms, professionals, secretaries, nurses, teenagers. The only constant was the seeming randomness.
There might not be one obvious pattern, but it was clear that a predator had made Fort Worth his hunting grounds. Although they denied it at the time, Fort Worth Police Department had formed a task force that grew to 40 officers. For years they aggressively pursued thousands of leads. Interviews, polygraphs, and the limited forensics available at the time were used to sift thorough suspects and look for connections between victims, but when a predator chooses a stranger at random, the links can be impossible to find.
Some cases would be solved, both by luck and dogged police work. Others would linger, unsolved, cold, leaving families without answers and victims without justice. For those cases that did reach a resolution, a startling picture emerged. There wasn’t a single predator hunting Fort Worth. There were multiple predators, and the women of Fort Worth were their prey.
The killings abruptly stopped, leaving the unsolved cases as a horrific footnote to the decade of big hair, dance pop, and neon lycra. As time moved on, so did the police. There were always new investigations, fresh murders that were raw and immediate in their demands, stretching attention further and further from the those earlier crimes that cooled and then went cold.
But the victims were never forgotten. Certainly not by their families and friends. For them, the cases were always painful, a wound that couldn’t heal. Police remembered as well, but what could they do? They needed evidence that didn’t exist, or rather, they needed a way to read the evidence they did have. In many cases, there was biological evidence just sitting there, taunting them with an identity so close, but locked in the genomes and alleles of his DNA. For the cases to progress, something would have to change.
DNA, deoxyribonucleic acid, the genetic blueprints of all living organisms, was first uncovered in 1869 by a Swiss physician and biologist, Friedrich Miescher. Miescher found nucleic acid left behind in surgical bandages. It would take more than a century for science to unlock the secrets hiding in our cells and longer still for forensics to develop a means of creating and comparing profiles.
This new, dramatic evidence was first used in the United States in 1988 to convict a man named George Wesley of the rape and murder of Helen Kendrick, 79. The New York trial was a media show that put science on trial, not George Wesley. Science prevailed.
In the bustling new world of forensics, DNA was a game changer. Not since fingerprints had such a reliable source of identification been utilized. DNA was a fantastic tool when a victim pointed at her attacker. Eye witness identification can be problematic, but with DNA, there was a concrete answer. The innocent were exonerated. The guilty were convicted. But to compare the DNA found at a crime scene, you had to have a known suspect, someone to compare it to. Then came CODIS.
In 1994, the FBI began CODIS, an acronym for the Combined DNA Index System, a program of support for criminal justice DNA databases. The National DNA Index System or NDIS is the national level version of CODIS, containing the DNA profiles contributed by federal, state, and local participating forensic laboratories. For the first time, local police could take an unknown sample and have it compared against an enormous database of known offenders. They would also eventually be able to compare to other unknown offenders in an effort to identify serial predators.
The larger the database, the more effective. For CODIS to work, it needed samples. In 2004 Texas required all convicted felons entering the penitentiary to give DNA for CODIS. They immediately solved 14 murders. That same year they also solved 81 sexual assaults, 40 burglaries, and four robberies in Texas alone. In 2005, a new law required the system to go back and take samples of everyone who came in before April 2004. Even more cases were solved.
Cold cases continue to be solved through a mix of detective work and scientific advancement. It’s time to re-examine these killings from the 1980s. If anything, recent developments in the news have shown us that justice may be slow, but it can still arrive, even 40 plus years later.
Over the next several weeks, I will look at some of the known killers that stalked Fort Worth in the early 80s–Curtis Don Brown, Lucky Odom, Juan Mesa Segundo, Faryion Waldrip, Ricky Lee Green– and then at some of the still unsolved cases in an ongoing series, The Hunting Grounds. I’ll also discuss legal issues facing cold cases including the backlog of DNA testing and time limit statutes that prohibit prosecutions.
You can expect to see a new article in this series every other week, starting with Curtis Don Brown on May 14th. Brown was every woman’s nightmare, the stranger in the night, crawling in through the windows. He would be caught in a murder by fate mingled with accurate police instincts. Only years later would science reveal just how lucky police had gotten when they nabbed the man who went by the nickname “Bandit.”
The adults in Shakeisha Lloyd’s brief life failed her. It’s not that they didn’t love her. She was very loved. It’s not that they weren’t doing their best. They tried. But the truth is that they utterly failed to protect her resulting in her death at the age of ten, just a day after she completed 4th grade. Surviving family members remember her as a sweet, cheerful little girl who loved singing.
Photo credit: TCU Magazine
Photo credit: Fort Worth Star-Telegram
Shakeisha lived with her extended family in the historic Stop Six neighborhood of Fort Worth, Texas. Stop Six is primarily an African-American community that was once the sixth stop on the Northern Texas Traction Company, a trolley line that ran between Fort Worth and Dallas. They’re best known as the home of the Dunbar Wildcats and their multiple basketball state championships under the guidance of legendary coach Robert Hughes. If she had survived, Shakeisha would have gone to school there. Instead, her mother met a man named Edward Lewis Lagrone.
Like so many inner city, blue collar communities, Stop Six was ravaged by drugs and gangs in the 80s and 90s like they were natural disasters that laid waste to families and the infrastructure. In 1985, Shakeisha’ s mother began dating Lagrone. Allegedly he made a living as a cook, but everyone knew Lagrone’s real job was as the local drug dealer. Crack had ferocious grip on Stop Six and Lagrone was deep in the culture. Pamela Lloyd only dated Lagrone for six months, but that was enough for him to ingratiate himself to the family. He would come by to visit with the children.
No one questioned why a grown man would be so invested in the children of a woman he briefly dated. As for Pamela, she was struggling with her own addiction to crack and Lagrone was her supplier. She was willing to ignore everything else to keep him closer. There were eight people living in Shakeisha’s house. She had a older brother, Charles, a baby sister, her mother, her uncle Dempsey, and two elderly great aunts, seventy-six-year-old Carolina “Caola” Lloyd and eighty-three-year-old Zenobia Anderson. Other family members were frequently there. Shakeisha was especially close to another great aunt and uncle, Beverly and Billy Lloyd. Their daughter Kendra was the exact same age as Shakeisha. Kendra was her cousin and her best friend in the world.
In spite of there being so many people around, we know Lagrone had plenty of alone time with little Shakeisha. In 1991, Pamela noticed physical changes in her daughter that concerned her. She was gaining weight and her breasts were growing. One night after her bath, Shakeisha told Pamela, “Mommy, something is moving around inside of me.” Pamela took her daughter to the hospital for an examination and learned that her 10 year child was 17 weeks pregnant.
Shakeisha admitted to her mother that Lagrone had been raping her for two years and that he said he would kill her if she told. She could remember nine different times she had been raped by Lagrone, but it’s hard to know how much occurred. Child predators spend time getting close to a child and gaining their trust. The goal is to have access, but to also ensure that the child doesn’t tell. The process of gradually escalating intimacy and control is called “grooming” and frequently includes lavishing attention on lonely children.
The predator starts out with little things, kissing or cuddling before moving into fondling and ultimately full intercourse. Threats and guilt are used to maintain control of the child. The child victims are often conflicted. How can someone make them feel so good and yet so bad at the same time? They believe from all the attention that this person must love them. If they tell about the bad parts, they’re harming this person who loves them. As with any confession, the longer they silent, the harder it becomes to tell. They become afraid that no one will believe them. Shakeisha had told no one. Not even her cousin.
Pamela wanted to do the right thing. She reported him to the police. But she also contacted Lagrone. At first he denied “messing with” Shakeisha and hung up on her. But later he called back and apologized. He said he was sorry for what he had done and that he would take care of the baby. She told him she was pressing charges.
The next day, she instructed Shakeisha to call Lagrone’s beeper, fearing that he might not call her back, but he would call Shakeisha. He did call back and she told him Shakeisha need to have an abortion which would cost $895. He said he would pay.
May 29th was the end of the school year. Shakeisha should have been looking forward to the summer and 5th grade. She should have been riding her bike or playing with Barbies. She should have been giggling with Kendra and dancing around singing as she loved to do. Instead, her mother was negotiating with Shakeisha’s rapist to pay for her abortion. Lagrone offered Pamela $1,000 to pay for the abortion and another $500 just for her. All she had to do was withdraw her complaint. He told her he would be by on Thursday with the money.
Pamela didn’t withdraw the complaint. She was trying to do the right thing by her daughter. She had brought this man into their lives and allowed him access to her children. She was going to protect her daughter now. But communicating with Lagrone would prove a fatal mistake. She should have known better. She really should have.
Lagrone was more than just a drug dealer. He had already been to prison before. Lagrone was already a convicted murderer.
On October 6, 1976, Lagrone shot and killed a man named Michael Anthony Jones in a dispute. He was sentenced to 20 years. While on parole for this offense, he began dating Pamela. In 1990, he has several pending arrests for dealing drugs and was facing more prison time. He was also under investigation for a double homicide committed in December of 1990. Someone broke into an apartment with a shotgun and killed a Clifton Demerson, 39 and Mary Demerson Daniel, 40. According to police, a note in Mary’s possession implicated Lagrone.
This was the man Pamela let into the lives of her family, her vulnerable children and fragile elderly women. She wasn’t bothered by Lagrone being on parole. At the time, she was newly paroled herself after serving time for aggravated robbery with a deadly weapon. She was deep into her addiction. Her uncle Billy Lloyd warned her about Lagrone. Everyone knew he was a dangerous man. But Pamela just knew that he brought her drugs. She would later comment that she thought he was great with children because he bought lots of presents to the children of the people he sold drugs to. He lavished attention and gifts on the kids of parents whose minds were clouded with drugs.
Although he was a convicted murderer who had threatened to kill the child victim of his new sexual assault charge, Lagrone hadn’t yet been arrested. Arlington Police Department were aware he lived in their city and had the warrant, but they just hadn’t gotten around to it yet citing “a heavy caseload.”
After the conversation where Pamela refused to drop the charges, Lagrone had his new girlfriend Anetta Daniel go with him to the Winchester Gun Store. He couldn’t legally buy a gun, but he gave her the money to purchase a double-barrel, pistol-grip, slide-action Winchester shotgun. She brought the gun out to him and he put it in the trunk of his car.
The next day was May 30, 1991. Pamela woke up around 4:00 am and went to get a drink of water. She was startled by a banging on the door demanding to be let in. Shakeisha’s brother later said he recognized the voice and begged him not to answer the door, but Dempsey Lloyd opened the door to find Lagrone standing there. Dempsey asked Lagrone what he wanted at that hour. In response, Lagrone shot him. Dempsey grappled with Lagrone for the shotgun, but he was weakening quickly.
Lagrone wrestled the shotgun away and went into the first bedroom. There he found Caola Lloyd. Caola was suffering from terminal cancer and was blind and mostly deaf. Lagrone executed the elderly woman with a single shot.
From there he went into the kitchen where he found Zenobia Andersons washing out some clothing. He also executed her with a single shot.
“Run, Mama” Shakeisha cried out. She and Charles were also running for cover, but first Shakeisha stopped to hide her 19 month old baby sister. This altruistic act probably cost her life as Lagrone caught up with her. Ten year-old Shakeisha threw up her hands to shield herself. When Lagrone shot, the bullet traveled through her hands, dismembering fingers and slammed into her cheek, exiting her jaw on the opposite side. He then placed the gun to the back of her neck and pulled the trigger a second time.
On the way out, he leveled the gun again at Dempsey. Dempsey begged for his life, but Lagrone shot him again anyway. Incredibly, Dempsey survived to identify Lagrone as the shooter. Pamela and Charles would also identify him. He was arrested almost immediately. Although there were three living victims and extensive forensics, Lagrone would deny he was the shooter. He also denied being the man who had impregnated Shakeisha, but unlike Lagrone, DNA doesn’t lie. He was the father.
Pamela Lloyd Tutt
At trial, Lagrone put a witness who testified that another person was bragging about the murder. Lagrone’s grown son Erik Williams, AKA Omar Anderson. His son wasn’t the most credible witness, having shot three men in three incidents, one of whom had died. That’s right. Just five months after the Lloyd family murders, Lagrone’s son also killed a man. At the time he testified for his father, he was a known gang member and drug dealer who was under indictment for murder. The jury rejected his testimony in favor of more credible evidence.
After the conviction, the jury heard more about Lagrone’s past including the drug dealing and the previous murder. They also heard testimony from two sisters, both aged fifteen at the time who had been abducted at gunpoint by Lagrone who sexually assaulted and terrorized them in 1986. He threatened them before releasing them and they didn’t tell until he safely behind bars.
The jury sentenced Lagrone to death in just 25 minutes. The violence and drugs didn’t stop there. They continued stalking this community and this family. Lagrone’s son is now serving a life sentence for the murder he was convicted of. Pamela’s addiction was too big to ignore. After Shakeisha’s murder, it only increased. She married the father of her baby girl, but he was also a violent man. In 1997 she shot and killed her husband Gene Tutt. She said it was self-defense. A plea agreement of five years was agreed on in 1999. This meant she was incarcerated on February 12, 2004, date Edward Lewis Lagrone was finally set for execution.
Charles also couldn’t be there. He, too, had fallen prey to the scourge of drugs, dying of an overdose at the age of 22. Shakeisha’s beloved aunt and uncle Beverly and Billy attended the execution as did Kendra, now 24. Lagrone was defiant to the end, refusing to admit responsibility and refusing to apologize. Kendra wept bitterly in front of reporters. She said she didn’t want to hate another person, but he had raped and killed her best friend. She was disappointed that he couldn’t at least apologize. Her father, Billy expressed relief that Lagrone would never again harm another person.
Pamela said before her release that she now accepted responsibility for her role and was ready for a change. She was ready to step away from drugs and men who had dragged her down. Upon release, she left the state and now resides in Missouri. I hope she has found her way.
When I look at the picture of Shakeisha, I’m filled with rage. She deserved better from the adults in her life. Her face is so innocent, so joyous. What a waste of a sweet, precious life.
Source Notes: The following are all sources I have used in this article, particularly murderpedia and clarkprosecutor, both of which list numerous other sources they relied on.
*Content Warning: This story contains graphic descriptions of child abuse and sexual assault. Pseudonyms have been used for all minors in the story except for the victim in order to protect their privacy.
Summer in Texas means long, sweltering days. On July 1, 2013, 7:30 meant day was just tipping over into evening. The heat had loosened its grip ever so slightly, but the dark was still an hour and a half away. A thirteen year-old girl sat in the computer room of her Saginaw, Texas home, when she heard the sound of tires squealing and looked up in time to see a red pick-up truck racing away from a crumpled gray tarp near the corner of Roundrock and Cindy. The tarp clearly wasn’t empty. Its contents were bundled with what she thought might be twine.
Two neighborhood kids were out riding their bikes. The squeal of tires had also attracted their attention and they rode over. Curious, one boy lifted the edge of the tarp, then hastily dropped it. The teen girl came out and she also lifted the tarp, enough to see the semi-nude body of a child. Her screams attracted the attention of her father. He didn’t believe her when she insisted there was a dead child in the street and lifted the tarp to see for himself. He wished he hadn’t. The small girl was wearing a pink flowered shirt and nothing else. In addition to the tarp, she had been stuffed into a black trash sack. Her hands and feet were bound with red duct tape. Although he couldn’t see it, there were four plastic Walmart sacks were placed over her head and secured with more of the red duct tape.
The first officer who responded opened the bundle which had been secured with a brown men’s belt. He tore away at the plastic around the child’s face as he frantically checked for a pulse. But he could tell then that she was dead, and had been for a while at least. She was cold to the touch. She also was wet. Her fingers and toes were pruned like she’d been in the bath too long.
As the Saginaw police secured the scene, several noted an unwelcome sight—Tyler Holder, 17. Holder had many brushes with Saginaw PD and Detective Robert Richardson especially. Holder paced, watching the police work. There was something in the intensity of the way he stared that drew the attention of multiple officers who noted it in their reports. But when officers began canvassing the assembled neighbors, trying to figure out just how and when the body had been dumped, Holder managed to slip away.
Holder had a reputation as the neighborhood thug. He wasn’t in school and he wasn’t working. Judging by his Facebook posts, he spent most of his time smoking pot and causing trouble. A lot of the trouble was petty. He damaged property. He stole things.
February 21, 2013, he called Saginaw police to report that his mother’s guns had been stolen. He claimed three men had broken in but he scared them away. Police responded to investigate and quickly determined Holder’s story was not plausible. He claimed that the men all ran together out a back door, but on examination, the door was blocked and only partially opened. There was no way three grown men could have run out abreast. Also, it had just rained and the ground was damp and muddy around the house, but there were no shoe prints anywhere. When confronted with evidence that events could not have happened the way he described, Holder shrugged it off without seeming upset. He called his mother, who was not home, and told her the guns were stolen but the police didn’t believe him. Then he calmly hung up.
At his former school and in the neighborhood, Holder had a reputation as a bully. He was large and awkward, making jokes about rape and violence and he was known to carry a knife. A neighborhood teen recalled a time her brothers built a snowman. Holder came out and destroyed it. In retaliation, one boy threw a snowball at Holder who responded by pulling a knife and threatening him.
In 2012, Holder burglarized the house of one of his former principals. He was confronted later by the man who told him to return the property and he wouldn’t make a police report. Holder showed up with a pillow case full of the man’s belongings. Just days before the murder, neighbors had report a rash of car burglaries. Some of them suspected Holder, but there wasn’t any proof. It just seemed like the sort of thing he would do.
The mother of Holder’s on-again/off-again girlfriend, Christina, forbid him from coming over to the house. She didn’t really have a specific reason. She just knew he made her very uneasy. One former classmate told the Dallas Morning News, “He was the kid you were always really nice to because you didn’t know if he was going to come shoot up the school. He was an angry person.”
The source of Holder’s anger isn’t clear. His mother was was loving, but his father was absent. The reason depends on who you ask. His mother, Kimberly Holder, says that his father left the state as soon as she told him she was pregnant. The father, who now lives in Montana, claims he knew nothing about his son until he was served with child support paperwork in 2009. He claims he tried to get some sort of visitation, but was stone-walled and just gave up. Likewise, his maternal grandmother was involved, but his grandfather was estranged from the family. Holder and his mother lived with his grandfather and step-grandmother until a family dispute when Holder was five. Kimberly Holder moved out and they never spoke again.
There is no documented history of the type of abuse often seen in cases of a sexual sadist, no indications Holder was every physically or sexually abused. When asked at jail screenings, he denied having been abused by anyone. His family wasn’t wealthy, but he had a home, clothing, affection. At worst, he was a latch key kid, but that’s hardly a recipe for creating a predator. Yet from an early age, he rebelled against normal discipline.
He was a difficult child, always acting up in school. He publically disobeyed his mother, challenging her and cursing at her. In 5th grade, some parents stopped allowing him into their homes because he talked about inappropriate things like drugs and sex, things they didn’t want their children exposed to. He had trouble making and keeping friends.
By the time Holder was in middle school, the behavioral problems were severe enough that he was being sent to a juvenile justice alternative education school. Instead of allowing him to go there, his mother chose to withdraw him and home school her son. She said she was afraid of him being around other juvenile offenders, even in the controlled setting, but perhaps she was in denial about how deeply her son’s problems were rooted. She repeatedly refused counseling referrals, insisting that everything was fine, even as her son began running afoul of the juvenile justice system. He was referred to the juvenile courts, but those records are sealed. He was not sent to Texas Youth Commission for incarceration meaning his offenses were likely misdemeanor or non-violent offenses.
When Holder claimed that the house had been burglarized, His mother believed her son and even bought him a gun to protect himself if the house was broken into again. However, she also kept her own door locked at all times and kept her own gun in there, hidden in drawer. Perhaps she didn’t trust him all that much.
She worked long hours in Grand Prairie, quite a daily drive from Saginaw. She denied he was drinking or doing drugs, but all his Facebook posts look like this picture. They’re all selfies of him in various states of intoxication, most especially with marijuana. He also vented about his difficulties with his sometimes girlfriend, Christina. His mother described how he was usually asleep when she got up and left for work, and often left the house after she got home. Throughout, she has stubbornly clung to her insistence that he was fine.
His Facebook “likes” got a bit of media attention, but were fairly pedestrian for a teen. He liked metal music, horror movies, and violent video games. Adolescent fantasies are one thing, but there Tyler Holder had a very dark set of interests, one that might have been addressed if only his family had availed themselves of the offered counseling years before. This aspect of how he spent his time would not come to light until after his arrest. In addition to pot, theft, and video games, Holder filled his days with anonymous sex with strangers he met through Craigslist, both men and women. He also regularly surfed child pornography websites.
Holder’s grandmother thought he was doing fine as well. She lived in Decatur, but was in Saginaw visiting him the day before the murder and she had spent the night. On the morning of July 1st, she left while her grandson was still sleeping and bought food for the house and took her car for repairs. Holder stayed in bed until 2 p.m., which was apparently normal for him. He had lost his job at Sonic just the week before. None of his fast food jobs seem to have lasted very long. Employers described him as lazy and unreliable, plus there was always that something that set other people on edge about Tyler Holder, some wrongness in him.
He did have a few friends, most notably JR*. JR saw Holder the day of the murder, both in the morning and in the evening. When JR saw Holder after the discovery of the child’s body, Holder told him confidently that the police had found the body of Alanna Gallagher. Problem is, no one else knew that, not even her parents…because they hadn’t discovered she was missing yet.
While police were processing the scene at Roundrock and Cindy, Laura Gallagher flagged down a patrol car to say that she couldn’t find her daughter, Alanna Gallagher, 6. Alanna had last been seen around 2:30 pm. It was now 9:30 and completely dark. It wasn’t unusual for Alanna to roam the neighborhood alone. She was a common sight riding her purple scooter around. Everyone in the area knew her. She was an outgoing, friendly little girl who would often just show up, knocking on someone’s door wanting someone to come out and play.
The officer returned to the Gallagher’s house at 641 Babbling Brook. He noticed Holder pacing around up and down the sidewalk outside his house, which was 649 Babbling Brook, only two doors down. The officer stopped and asked Holder if he had seen anything unusual. Holder claimed to have been out fishing all day. He hadn’t been around.
Inside the Gallagher house, the officer was shown pictures of Alanna and heard about how she always wore a watch to make sure she was home by her 8:00 pm curfew. The officer swung into action, interviewing neighbors and searching records to discover any sex offenders who might live in the area. Laura Gallagher protested that she felt a little silly involving the police. Her daughter was probably just watching cartoons somewhere and had forgotten about the time. She thought Alanna had gone to with a neighbors’ twin four-year-old granddaughters, but when she went over, they hadn’t seen Alanna. The officer followed up with that neighbor anyway. The neighbor confirmed that she hadn’t seen Alanna since June 30th. She told police that Alanna and her older sister Mary* sometimes came over, but that Alanna would cry when it was time to go home. She never felt right about just letting Alanna walk alone own and would stand and watch her until she made it into her home.
Police checked at another house where Alanna often played. That neighbor confirmed that Alanna had come over to play with her grandchildren around 2 pm, but said the family was on their way out. Alanna insisted she would wait “right by their door” until they returned. She felt terrible leaving the child sitting outside her house, but there was nothing she could do. This was the last confirmed sighting of Alanna alive.
The Gallagher family received a great deal of attention, some for valid reasons and others because of their nontraditional lifestyle. They consider themselves polyamorous, meaning they are a family unit of more than two adults in a committed relationship. The family dynamics have very little to do with the case, other than to say there were three adults living in the house, two men and one woman and their style of parenting could best be called permissive. Karl Gallagher, Laura Gallagher, and their third partner, Miles McDaniel, had three children, Mary, 9, John*, the middle child, and Alanna, baby of the family at 6 years. John had some special needs and Mary, 9 was known to be maternal to her younger siblings. She checked on them every day while they were at school.`
The most troubling aspect was the lack of supervision in the household. Neighbors came forward to say that Alanna was always outside, playing by herself without her parents keeping track of her. She rode her purple scooter around, visiting everyone. Purple was Alanna’s favorite color. Likewise, the school reported that the family was not at all involved. The parents never attended school events. Indeed many of the teachers had never met the parents. The children didn’t participate in any clubs, sports or clubs. Teachers described Alanna as a happy, outgoing, and friendly child. She liked to wear dresses and wanted to be a princess. They found her especially needy, hungry for physical contact, always seeking hugs and praise. She clearly got herself ready for school. Her hair was not brushed and she wore mismatched clothing that was not age or size appropriate.
The same officer stopped by Laura Gallagher on July 1st remembered a previous incident with the family that occurred when Mary was 6. He received a call about a child playing unattended at a park. A family was concerned that the little girl was there for hours with no adult in sight.
The officer arrived and spoke with Mary, then tracked down her mother. Laura was irate when the officer insisted she come and pick up her daughter. She said that she frequently let daughter go play at the park to get out of the house and saw nothing wrong with her walking there. The officer pointed out how young the child was and that she had to cross streets with busy traffic and no sidewalks. He also tried to explain about child predators.
The small community of Saginaw might seem perfect, safe, but the police knew better, as did many of the long term residents. They were especially mindful of the risks because of the Opal Jo Jennings case in which she was snatched and murdered while playing outside her grandmother’s home. That case left deep scars on Saginaw. (For more details about that crime, see No Safe Place.) But Laura dismissed his concerns. She told the officer that such things don’t really happen as often as the news tries to make is sound.
The Gallaghers seemed to favor the concept of “free-range parenting” although they did not use the term. The idea is to encourage children to function independently with very little parental supervision.
July 1, 2013, the family first realized Alanna was missing at 6:30. Mary had made hotdogs for dinner. When Laura couldn’t find Alanna, she sent Mary out to look at the neighbors. She returned without her sister. No one knew where Alanna was. They ate dinner, then went to look again.
Laura and Mary drove around awhile, but they didn’t spot Alanna. Laura sent Karl a text. When he returned, Laura and Miles were playing World of Warcraft. They had decided just to wait for it to get dark and hope Alanna would come home. Karl and Laura made another trip around the neighborhood, but again, no Alanna. They went home and Karl made himself a dinner. The parents went around and knocked on doors at around 9-9:30 pm, according to neighbors. That’s when Laura spotted the police car and flagged him down.
A dispatcher put the two scenes together: a child missing, the body of a child found. She notified both sets of officers and soon the identity of the girl in the tarp was confirmed.
Saginaw police sought help from larger agencies including the FBI. They processed things methodically, but one name came up almost immediately. Tyler Holder was interviewed and he told the detective that he slept in until around 2 pm. He claimed he watched some TV shows and then left to look for a job. This was a different story than he had given the officer investigating Alanna’s disappearance. It also didn’t match the evidence police possessed that Holder’s car wasn’t seen driving away in the afternoon.
Police honed in on him as a suspect almost immediately, but they didn’t press. They could afford to be patient. Alanna’s autopsy report was gruesome reading. She had been sexually assaulted anally. Bruises to her face, arms and torso indicated further violence. The cause of death was suffocation due to the four plastic bags placed over her head and wrapped with duct tape. Her body was then submerged in water for a period, possibly in an attempt to cleanse her of biological evidence. This attempt was unsuccessful. DNA was obtained from anal swabs and from a belt. Also collected with Alanna’s body was a roll of toilet paper, crumpled and dirty that was inside the tarp. Her clothing wasn’t missing, but rolled up in the tarp with her body, however, her purple and pink watch wasn’t there. Alanna never took it off. Had the killer kept it for a souvenir?
Saginaw reeled from another brutal child murder, another little girl taken from close to home. Parents were afraid to let their children outside. A makeshift memorial sprang up on the street where her body had been found. Neighbors, friends, and complete strangers brought stuffed animals to remember her. As days turned into weeks, there was a vigil with purple balloons and a $10,000 reward for tips. Holder attended the vigil wearing a T-Shirt that read “WANTED.” Too keep the case in the public view, supporters started a purple ribbon campaign. DNA was taken from all the neighbors voluntarily. No one wanted to be the person who refused. Even Tyler Holder let them swab his cheek.
While the public demanded answers, police were close to being able to provide them. The cardboard center of the toilet paper roll was analyzed by FBI labs and was determined to belong to a batch shipped to Texas and sold in an Arlington Costco. Kimberly Holder had a membership to Costco. The police collected the trash put outside the Holder home. The bags matched the one Alanna’s body had been stuffed into, same brand. In the trash was red duct tape. Kimberly Holder had some work done on the house recently and a silver construction tarp had been spotted outside her home by a neighbor. That tarp was no longer there. Animal hairs were collected from Alanna’s body. Dog hairs, to be exact. The Holders had a dog of the right type to have left those hairs
All these small pieces were forming the picture of Alanna’s killer, like a puzzle being filled in, but what police really needed were results from the anal swab. DNA would complete the image.
July 19, 2013, Saginaw PD was surprised to receive another emergency on Babbling Brook Drive. This time it was a fire. They arrived to find that someone had set fire to memorial in front of the Gallagher’s home, and also to Karl Gallagher’s car. Believing it to be arson, the ATF brought out specially trained dogs who confirmed the presence of an accelerant. Who would be so cruel as to torment the family grieving the loss of a child? The family had a lot of detractors over the past few weeks, but police wondered if someone had been hateful enough to lash out at the family. The family hadn’t shied away from the publicity. They had been out front, begging for people to come forward with any information and defending their lifestyle, which had become the focus of so much criticism. The fire had spread from the car toward the house, damaging its exterior and placing the family in danger.
Around this time, Holder’s friend JR came forward with his mother. A few days after Alanna’s murder, Holder had given him a cell phone, saying he’d gotten a new one. JR asked if there was anything that needed deleted, but Holder said no. JR later found some alarming things on the phone. There were searches for “best child pornography” and photos of Holder in women’s underwear and naked with a garden hose inserted into his anus. There was also evidence of Holder’s Craigslist history with his anonymous hook-ups. JR cut off contact with Holder and deleted pictures, but he finally told his mother and she had insisted they bring the phone to the police.
Just one day after the arson, the police had what they needed. The DNA results were in and confirmed police suspicions. Both the anal swab and the men’s belt that had been used to bind the tarp were confirmed to belong to Holder. They drafted a search warrant for the Holder residence to look for:
In addition to the search warrant, police obtained an arrest warrant. Because they knew there were guns in the house, the FBI Safe Streets Task Force was tagged to take Holder into custody. Holder opened the door as if he were surrendering, but abruptly pulled his mother’s 9 mm from behind his back and shot 22 year Arlington Police veteran Charles Lodatto who was part of the FBI taskforce investigating the case. The bullet struck Lodatto in the groin, severing his femoral artery and lodging in his hip. The injury could have easily been fatal, but officers quickly applied a tourniquet to keep him from bleeding to death. He remained in ICU for some time, but trauma surgeon Dr. William Witham who treated Lodatto said their quick actions saved his life.
After he shot Lodatto, Holder was shot in the neck and immediately transported to the hospital. The scene was locked down due to the shooting and first processed as an active crime scene. The search warrant would not be executed until the following day. Serving the warrant filled in many of the missing pieces. They found the red duct tape, numerous used condoms, matching toilet paper rolls, latex gloves, garden hose lengths, and most damning, they found Alanna’s watch. The also found gas cans and evidence tying Holder to the arson at the Gallagher’s house.
They also found evidence that Holder had been planning on either “suicide by cop” or trying to run. On the nightstand by his bed, in a sealed envelope, he had left a letter for his mother that some interpreted as a suicide note. “Mom, I love you and I’m sorry, but I have to leave,” the note read. “I took your shot gun and your hand gun. I want you to know you are not responsible for this.” He tells her the he can no longer “hold back” the things going on in his head and how he wants her to live out her plans for them. “I love you so much. You were a great mom. You gave me everything I ever wanted. Don’t let this ruin the good memories of me and us together. I just wasn’t made for this world. Tell Granny and Bubba I love them. I will leave my car in a safe place in good shape. If I live I will write you.” The portions about leaving his car in a safe place indicates that he may have been more literal when saying “I have to leave.” He planned to run for it, but the police came for him before he had the chance.
July 31, Holder was well enough to have a conversation with detectives. He couldn’t speak due to a tracheotomy, but he could write his answers to questions. After being read his Miranda warnings, he mused about whether or not to speak with police. He both wanted a lawyer and wanted to talk right then. That wasn’t possible, but he wanted to prove he could be cooperative. At one point, Detective Richardson told him he did not expect a lawyer would want him to talk to the police about dumping the body. He once again told Holder it was his decision whether he wanted to talk. Holder responded by writing “I didn’t drop her.”
What followed was a nonsensical story about a man who looked just like Karl Gallagher, but wasn’t Karl Gallagher. Holder said the man, a stranger, showed up with Alanna. He was evasive about her condition, saying she was alive when she got there, but “she left dead.” He elaborated that she was injured and had been beaten. He claims this man brought her over and had sex with her there and killed her, but he didn’t witness it.
When the detective asked questions about Holder sexually assaulting Alanna, he played dumb, saying things like “I don’t know what you mean.” Detective Richardson then explained about the DNA. Holder admitted having sex with her after she was dead. He claims the stranger asked for the bags and duct tape. He said that she was bound and dead when he turned her onto her stomach and raped her anally.
His story, already unbelievable, took strange twists and turns. First, he claimed that he yelled at the man to stop beating her, that she was hurt all over and he tried to stop the man from having sex with her. Then he says that the man made him have sex with her, or told him things “that made sense at the time” but that he no longer remembered, things that convinced him to have sex with Alanna. Holder said he went to the restroom and when he came out, the man had left, carrying away the body of Alanna Gallagher.
The detective summarized for Holder: A stranger brought an injured child to you, and taped her up, convinced you to sexually assault her, then killed her and carried her body away. Holder confirmed that was his story. Even if the story wasn’t so ridiculous on its face, there was not a shred of evidence to suggest another person being involved. All the DNA, all the items found with Alanna, all the items left behind, everything tied her to Holder. Holder was charged with capital murder for Alanna’s death, attempted capital murder for shooting Charles Lodatto, and arson for starting the fire at the Gallagher’s house.
Holder’s trial was scheduled for October 2014, but in September, prosecutors announced a plea deal. A new Supreme Court decision ruled that mandatory life sentences for defendants younger than 18 were unconstitutional. Holder was 18 at the time of trial, but he had been 17 at the time he committed the crime. Afraid the case might fall into a legal loophole, prosecutors consulted with the family.
The charge of capital murder was reduced to plain murder. He still received a life sentence, but with the possibility of parole. In addition, he received 20 years for the arson and another 40 for trying to kill Charles Lodatto. That last sentence was stacked on the life sentence, meaning even if Holder received parole for the murder case, which he would be eligible for in 30 years, he would have to serve his time for the attempted capital. He would have to serve at least half that sentence. In essence, Holder would have to serve 50 years before he could even think about being released.
For the Gallagher family, this meant they would be spared a trial and further vilification in the press and social media, but it was a sad realization of how dangerous the world really was.
“Nobody thinks you’re down the street from someone developing into a monster,” Laura Gallagher said. “There’s not just our kids, but so many other kids we’d see out playing. And you think of all the times that all these kids were walking past that house, and you feel like it was a time bomb slowly building that we didn’t know about, and it went off on our baby.”
Sometimes they do, but they aren’t believed by the adults who are supposed to protect him. Please share the story in this star-telegram article. These girls are so brave. For one, it’s cost her a relationship with her family. They have chosen to stay with the church that supports the abuser. The abuser in now in prison on child pornography charges, and yet the church and family blame the victims. The pastor at Heritage Baptist Church in Mansfield is still speaking out against the victims and it breaks my heart that there are little girls and boys being raised in that church, learning the lesson of silence over protection. Please read and share this Fort Worth Star-telegram story below.