by Burl Barer
Armed with the history of the police department’s previous interaction with Rhonda Glover and the all-important search warrant obtained from Judge Landers, of the Austin Municipal Court, Detectives Fortune and De Los Santos notified Walker, and then headed to the crime scene. “Once they knew there was a search warrant,” said De Los Santos, “they didn’t waste another moment. When we arrived to assist, Walker and Faithful were already conducting the search. The crime scene specialists were there too.”
Anyone who watches such television programs as CSI or Forensic Files knows the importance of crime scene investigators in solving a homicide. In this case the specialists were Victor Ceballos, William Welch and James Bush.
“Being a crime scene investigator,” explained Welch, “means an individual that responds to crime scenes within the city limits of Austin. Basically, we document crime scenes through notes and photographs and sketches, collect evidence, secure that evidence for presentation in the trial, and that is basically the gist of it.” Welch had been with the Austin Police Department in that capacity for five years at the time of Joste’s death. “I have over four hundred hours of classroom training,” Welch said. “I am also a certified crime scene specialist through the International Association for Identification.”
“Ceballos was assigned to photograph,” recalled Detective Faithful. “Welch was assigned to collect evidence. Bush was assigned to video. All of us put on shoe covers and gloves and proceeded into the residence.”
In homicide there is a general procedure that is followed in how evidence is seized, and how the crime scene is photographed. “When we respond to the scene, after doing our initial assessment or walkthrough, the first thing that will happen is that the entire crime scene will be videotaped, every room, every item of evidence, basically an overall video. Then after that,” said Welch, “Victor Ceballos will enter the scene, and he will do his photography, same thing as the video, basically overall photography, every room, every area of the crime scene.
“After that is done,” Welch explained, “usually a lead detective or a detective involved in the case and the other crime scene specialists will enter the scene and mark items of evidence with tent numbers. Basically, any item of evidence that we see that we believe pertinent to the crime will be marked with a number throughout the crime scene.”
After the items are marked, they will go through and do video again; this time, with more detail on the items of evidence that are marked, but also doing an overall video again, just to give an idea of where the items of evidence are within the crime scene.
“There was the unmistakable smell of decomposition emitting from within the residence,” said Detective Fortune. “The front door was unlocked. Ceballos took photographs as we proceeded through the scene to get an idea of what needed to be done. We were careful not to disturb any impressions in dust that were on the tile floor around the stairs because we could see a faint foot/shoe impression in dust at the foot of the stairs. I noticed that the back door was also unlocked.”
Faithful proceeded upstairs where the decomposition smell grew stronger. “The stairs opened on the second floor into a loft or living area, where there was a large desk and a couch,” he recalled. “The desk was very messy and covered with piles of mail opened and unopened. There was a coffee table in front of the couch that also had a lot of opened and unopened mail along with other papers. There was a TV on a table next to the desk that faced the couch. There were pillows and a blanket on the couch, as if Joste might have been sleeping there. There was also a floor fan that was at the end of the couch, near the TV, that was on and pointing toward the couch.”
The loft had a hallway that led off to two bedrooms and a bathroom. Joste’s body was in the hallway. “There was a lot of blood and bodily fluids on his clothing and in the carpet around his body,” Faithful stated. “Joste was in the advanced stages of decomposition, and there were flies everywhere. Some of the flies were already dead. Joste was fully clothed, lying on his back, blackened and swollen. There were nine-millimeter shell casings in the hallway, and two bullet holes in the wall in the hallway. ”
One bullet hole was in the wall, and the other was in the door on the same wall. Both were in close proximity to each other. Familiar with bullet holes, Faithful could easily discern that both holes were fired from within the master bedroom. “There were another 4 nine-millimeter shell casings in the bedroom on the floor in close proximity to the bedroom door.” The bedroom itself, Faithful noted, “was very tidy. ”
The French criminalist Edmond Locard stated his belief that anytime someone enters a crime scene, they take something away, and leave something behind. Essentially, whenever two items come into contact with one another, there is an exchange of material from one to the other. This is known as Locard’s principle of exchange, or exchange principle.
When you walk across a floor, or any surface, there is an exchange of material from your shoes to the floor, or vice versa. This type of evidence is perishable and delicate. It is of utmost importance that crime scene technicians make every effort to preserve, document and collect any evidence that might be “under their feet. ”
This evidence is ignored only when there is a lack of training in how to search a crime scene, and how to properly collect and preserve the evidence. “Sometimes,” commented investigative journalist Jeff Reynolds, “there is a deficient understanding of footwear impression evidence and its value to a case. Of course you can’t often see footprints—even when they are there. For example, a dust impression on a light-colored hardwood floor, tile or linoleum can be difficult, if not impossible, to see.”
The best way to search for such an impression is to place a bright flashlight on the floor and allow the light to simply skim across the floor. Even if no impression is visible where the suspect is known to have stepped, there still may be latent impressions that can be detected and collected.
The APD crime scene investigators are exceptionally thorough, and took two “static lifts” of the tile floor at the foot of the stairs. The static lift was created by three identification experts with the Metropolitan Police Department of Japan. They developed a new method to detect and collect dust impressions at crime scenes.
“They rubbed the surface of a black celluloid sheet with a woolen cloth to generate static electricity,” explains crime scene expert William Bodziak. “They then placed the celluloid over a dust impression on the floor and rubbed it again with the same woolen cloth. The static electricity caused the dust impression to cling to the celluloid sheet, lift off of the floor, and appear distinctly on the sheet. ”
Recently electrostatic dust lifters have evolved into powerful yet simple tools used to search for, detect and collect impressions in dust at crime scenes. The power packs of some units are small enough to fit in a pocket and take just minutes to set up and use.
“While we were working the scene,” Faithful recalled, “another neighbor drove up and I talked to her. She was Susan West. She told me that she noticed the garage door to Joste’s residence had been open for the past few days, but she was not sure if the interior door was open. She also told me that there should be two small dogs inside the residence, and that she used to see a woman walking the dogs all the time. West didn’t remember the name of the woman walking the dogs.”
Following the static lifts, Detective Faithful located personal papers for both Joste and Glover in the kitchen drawers; De Los Santos located a business card from Red’s Indoor Range lying on the bar counter that separated the kitchen from the living room.
“There was a backpack in the laundry room, just off the kitchen,” said Faithful. “Inside were some of Joste’s personal papers, and his driver’s license. Also in the backpack was an apple that wasn’t rotten yet, and Jimmy Joste’s cell phone.”
While Faithful checked out Joste’s cell phone, De Los Santos called the gun store. “I called,” said De Los Santos, “and spoke with Red, one of the owners. I asked him if it were possible to search for gun sa
les if I provided two names.”
“Sure,” said Red. “I can search paper records if the sale occurred within two years. After two years a computer search would have to be done.”
The names of James or Jimmy Joste and Rhonda Glover were provided, and thirty minutes later, Red called back. “Okay,” said Red, “a month ago, almost exactly, June 24, 2004….” The weapon was a Glock 9mm handgun. The purchaser was Rhonda Glover.
“I’m on my way,” said De Los Santos.
“Hold on,” said Red. “I can only release the ATF form to an ATF agent.” ATF special agent San Marcos was contacted, and he met De Los Santos at Red’s office. Red handed the ATF form over to San Marcos who, in turn, handed it to De Los Santos. “We have to do things according to the law,” Red told De Los Santos, “as a police officer, I’m sure you understand.”
Before returning to the crime scene, the two detectives made arrangements to interview Red’s employees who interacted with Rhonda Glover. Back at the crime scene, they reviewed the incoming and outgoing calls on Jimmy Joste’s cell phone. “There were between twenty and thirty missed phone calls, and all from the same number,” recalls Faithful. “Obviously, there was some reason why the same person would call twenty times in a row. The person placing those calls was a Mr. Rocky Navarro. We decided to return the call.”
“My first thought when the police called,” recalled Navarro, “was that one of my girlfriends got drunk and got in a car accident or something. I wasn’t ready for what I heard next.”
“Jimmy Joste has been found murdered,” said the officer on the other end of the line. “He had his cell phone on him, and it looks like you called him about twenty times. We think you may have been the last person to see him alive.”
Stunned, Rocky Navarro yelled his reply. “I promise you one fucking thing—I’m not the last person to see him alive. The fucking killer was the last person to see him alive!”
“Mr. Navarro,” pleaded the police officer, “please calm down. We need to talk with you….”
Navarro was in no mood to talk. He’d just been informed that his best friend was murdered. “While I wasn’t the last person to see Jimmy alive, I was the last person who meant him no harm to see him alive. Jimmy was my closest friend for over twenty years. ”
Rocky Navarro, a gregarious Austin bachelor with an appreciative eye for exceptionally attractive females, remembered the first time he saw Jimmy Joste. “I was on an evening dinner date several years ago with a leggy fashion model,” Navarro recalled. The entranced ingénue couldn’t take her gaze from the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Sadly, it wasn’t Rocky Navarro.
“She was my date, and we’re having dinner together,” related Navarro, “but she kept staring at this white-haired guy at the next table, and it pissed me off. I said to her, ‘Hey, you’re with me. You’re not supposed to be looking at him.'”
She blushingly apologized, saying, “I’m sorry, but I can’t help it.”
The next day Navarro returned to the same restaurant for an organized civic/social event. Seated next to him was the white-haired man from the night before.
“Hey, buddy,” said Rocky, “I’ve got a story to tell you….”
Navarro told the story, and both men had a good laugh. “We hit it off immediately,” said Navarro. “That was the day I met Jimmy Joste, the man who became my best friend.”
For more than two decades, Joste and Navarro were close pals, despite differences in age and income. “Jimmy was eight to ten years older, and he had white hair ever since the day we met. Maybe it was always white. I look like a Sopranos reject. Jimmy looked like a movie star. He was handsome as hell, and had more money than I’ll have in my lifetime. I made a good living in real estate,” said Navarro, “but Jimmy was heir to an oil and gas fortune. He wasn’t one of those guys who live off an inheritance or a trust fund. He rode the oil and gas world up and down. When the crash came, he crashed with everybody. When it came back, he came back. He wasn’t just a trust fund guy. Jimmy was anything but lazy. He was a hardworking man, a risk taker, innovator, and one hell of a great guy. He started off inheriting it. Then he invested it and lost it and got it back, and most of what he did was in the Texas oil and gas industry, mostly on shore Texas. ”
All his friends agreed that Jimmy Joste was incredibly generous, gregarious and friendly. “He saw no social divisions,” insisted Navarro. “He would tip the valet twenty dollars for a five-dollar parking fee, and then invite the guy to have a drink with us. He could talk to a king or a yardman. To Jimmy, people were people.”
Another trait Joste manifested was uncompromising honesty. “Sometimes Jimmy was so damn honest, you just had to shake your head,” said Navarro, eager to share a specific example.
“Jimmy was not really much of a drinker. One night we were celebrating a birthday party for a friend of mine. Well, we were all drinking champagne and tequila. Jimmy tried to keep up with the drinking and really got sloshed. I saw him doing this, and I said, ‘Jimmy, you’re not a drinker. Why are you doing this?’ He said he just wanted to participate and be one of the guys. Well, his house was right down the street from where we were. I told him that he was too drunk to drive, and that I should give him a ride. There was no way to convince him. Well, he pulled out of the parking lot and immediately got a DUI.”
Joste and Navarro met with Joste’s attorney. The lawyer read the arrest report, then shook his head in dismay. Jimmy Joste asked his attorney, “What’s the problem?”
“When the cops pulled you over and asked if you’d been drinking, you told them that you had spent the evening drinking champagne and tequila. Why on earth would you tell a bunch of cops that?”
“Because,” replied Joste, “I am incapable of lying.”
Navarro and the lawyer rolled their eyes. “I’m sorry, guys,” said Joste. “I don’t know any other way.”
Even with his affability and honesty, Joste wasn’t perfect. He had a fatal addiction. “If Jimmy met a certain type of woman,” explained Navarro, “he was her slave. She owned him. He was powerless, and would do anything for her, give her anything she wanted, and he knew it. Maybe the reason Jimmy and I got along so well is that I’m the same way.”
For the femme-addicted duo of Navarro and Joste, it wasn’t about conquest or variety. “It was never an ego trip of how many women. It was more of a victim identity. If we were in love, or thought we were, they had complete control over us. It was like we were high-school girls who—the minute they get laid—think they are in true love. That was us. When we had great sex, we fell madly in love. Oh, I’m sure they could see us coming a mile away.”
The primary control tool was sexual virtuosity. “Our brains were below our belts,” admitted Navarro. “If they were absolutely sexually incredible, we were done for. When he met Rhonda Glover in about 1990, well, that was it. According to Jimmy, she was beyond the beyond.”
Rhonda, Jimmy and Rocky were all living in the Houston area at that time, and Navarro moved to Austin in 1994. Joste and Glover also established a residence in Austin. It was there, following Navarro’s divorce, that he and Joste became closer friends.
“We would go to Kenichi’s sushi bar every Thursday, or every other Thursday, to have sushi,” recalled Navarro. “Ron was the sushi man, the chef there, and we met there two or three times a month. Rhonda and I and Jimmy and a bunch of people would go to the sushi bar and hang around the warehouse district, and we did that frequently, probably two or three times a month.
“Jimmy was madly in love with Rhonda,” insisted Navarro. “He worshiped her. He loved her more than I could describe. Although they were not married, he treated her as if she were his wife. He provided for her—he bought her homes and cars and supported her as if she were his wife.
“It didn’t much matter whose name was on the property,” said Navarro, “the one who paid for it, the one who put up the money, was Jimmy Joste. He bought her plenty of houses. You know, Rhonda Glover wasn’t Jimmy’s firs
t Rhonda. Jimmy and I called Rhonda Glover, ‘Rhonda Two,’ because Jimmy had been dating another woman, Rhonda Brown, for ten to twelve years before he took up with Rhonda Glover.
“Rhonda Two was the sequel,” explained Navarro. “She was younger than Rhonda Brown, and Glover did stuff sexually that blew Jimmy’s mind. When he fell in love with Rhonda Glover, she owned him. It wasn’t that Rhonda Glover could do no wrong. She could do all the wrong she wanted.”
While Jimmy wasn’t a party animal, Rhonda was a one-woman zoo. This “girl gone wild” partied as heavy as she petted, and any pleasure-providing person or product didn’t escape her ingestion, inhalation or absorption. She could leave Jimmy and run off with a younger man; then, exhausted in resources, she would make one phone call and have Jimmy back.
“One day she calls him,” described Navarro, “and tells him she’s pregnant. Well, all of his friends were worried that maybe the kid wasn’t his. He hoped it was, and we wanted it to be his too. None of us ever questioned if the baby was his or not—we never broached the subject. We never said anything, because he really wanted it to be his kid. He thought that if she had the baby, that might tie her down and keep her from running off all the time.
“The general consensus amongst Jimmy’s pals,” admitted Navarro, “was that Rhonda was with Jimmy for what he had in his wallet more than what was in his pants, if you understand what I mean. If size matters, for Rhonda it was the size of a bank balance. Oh, that isn’t to say that Rhonda wasn’t fun to be around a lot of the time, and because Jimmy was crazy about her, I figured she must have something spectacular going for her. But, bottom line, we all pretty much agreed that Rhonda was after Jimmy for his money. She believed that having a baby with Jimmy was her way into having access to his money.”
“Any woman, at any time, can file for child support from any man, including a man whom she has never met,” Charles E. Corry, Ph.D., of the Equal Justice Foundation, has noted. “In some cases she simply picked the wealthiest candidate from the list of her paramours, often a considerable list.”