Pretty Little Killers

by Berry, Daleen, Fuller, Geoffrey C.

  When Mikinzy arrived at the Wheeling facility, he sat and waited to see Rachel. He probably didn’t know what to expect, and he might have wondered if he would have to speak to Rachel through bulletproof glass.

  During that bittersweet visit Rachel revealed a secret to Mikinzy, and he made a promise to her in return.

  At first Rachel was so happy she seemed almost giddy. “Oh, my gosh, hi! Great to see you!”

  “Why are you smiling right now?” It didn’t make sense to Mikinzy. He hadn’t yet heard much news about the crime. “You don’t belong in here, Rachel.”

  Rachel’s answer was short and to the point. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

  “What do you mean? You didn’t murder anyone. You would never do that.”

  “But I did. Shelia and I killed Skylar.”

  Mikinzy didn’t know what to say, because he wasn’t sure he heard her right. Why would Rachel kill Skylar?

  “Why? Why would you do that?” he asked, shaking his head.

  Everyone who saw Mikinzy and Rachel together before she confessed insisted the couple was crazy about each other, even though they frequently fought and were always on again, off again.

  “Because she knew our secrets, and she was going to blackmail us,” Rachel said calmly.

  “What kind of secrets, Rachel?” Mikinzy asked. “What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

  “She had a video of us making out. She knew we had sex together.”

  Mikinzy must have believed Rachel, because he told other people what she told him that day. But he didn’t tell them how Rachel explained that she and Shelia had been girlfriends, that they had had a lesbian relationship, possibly while Mikinzy was dating her himself. Maybe she told him she was bisexual, maybe she told him she and Shelia hooked up during the off phase of Rachel and Mikinzy’s on-again, off-again relationship. She did tell him she and Shelia had been lovers and that was why Skylar had to die.

  At the time, Mikinzy was either still very confused, or deeply in love with Rachel, and she with him, because of what came next.

  “Will you wait for me?” Rachel asked.

  Mikinzy didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

  Near the banks of the Ohio River, another teenager was eager to impress upon her new inmate friends how badly she’d been wronged. Shelia Eddy reportedly told at least one other teenage girl housed with her at the Parkersburg juvenile center that Rachel was the backstabber who had squealed on her.

  Then, even though it’s a violation for inmates even to touch each other—much less have a sexual relationship—Shelia and that girl, Dawn, became lovers. For some unknown reason authorities can’t explain, Dawn was then transferred to the same facility where Rachel was housed in Wheeling.

  When Dawn confronted Rachel, calling her a snitch, Rachel grew so upset she vomited. Rachel begged Dawn to tell Shelia to plead guilty—so there wouldn’t be a trial. Reportedly, Dawn intended to bully Rachel, but the two became friends instead, and Dawn’s alliance to Shelia was quickly forgotten.

  These details wouldn’t have become public if Shelia’s mother had not shared them with other friends and family. According to Crissy, Tara took a letter from Dawn to Shelia to Crissy’s parents’ home and read it to them. When her father heard the part where Dawn and Shelia were lovers, he told Tara he never wanted to hear anything like that again.

  Crissy said that day was the last time her family heard from Tara.

  forty-three

  Her Day in Criminal Court

  Four long and frustrating months after Rachel’s guilty plea in May, Skylar’s family feared the case had become as stagnant as a summer pond. The courts had done nothing. From the outside looking in, that’s how it appeared both to the people closest to the case and to the public.

  Despite initial rumors that Shelia would be transferred to adult status and Rachel would be sentenced swiftly, nothing further appeared to happen. The media would not even print or speak Shelia’s name—much less speculate on what was prompting the delay.

  As the summer heat pounded on, it became harder to tell which made people angrier: Rachel confessing to Skylar’s murder or the media’s refusal to name her accomplice. Eighteen weeks later, the people who followed Skylar’s story got their wish: on September 4 Judge Clawges ruled Shelia Eddy would be transferred from juvenile to criminal court.

  For the prosecution of Skylar’s murder, that legal distinction meant Monongalia County now viewed Shelia as an adult. So did the State of West Virginia. That, in turn, meant both entities would hold the teen fully accountable for her actions. Equally important in the eyes of everyone following Skylar’s story, the media could now print and speak Shelia’s name—which news reporters did the minute Prosecutor Ashdown handed them a press release announcing the judge’s decision.

  For 426 days, from the day Skylar disappeared until September 4, Mary and Dave had never been far from tears. A question from a well-meaning stranger who recognized them in public would cause them to mourn their only child all over again. A passing headline about another missing child would suddenly force them to relive their own tragedy.

  Regardless of how many people celebrated Shelia’s new status, nothing changed for Mary and Dave. The Neeses continued to grieve. For the baby they brought home from the hospital, for the little girl who ran around naked in her family home, for the teenager who became the loyal confidante to so many of her peers. For Skylar Annette, the sixteen-year-old daughter who was lost to them forever.

  So September 4, 2013, the day Shelia’s alleged role in the murder became public, was a day to celebrate, but it was also a day for sorrow. That pivotal date initiated Shelia’s slow march toward justice, but it also signaled the end of Mary and Dave’s old life. In the end, the Neeses realized, it was an empty celebration.35

  Trials are not about finding the truth. They are about judging guilt and setting the world right again. But after a crime as savage as the murder of Skylar Neese, people doubt the world can ever again be right. A promising young life was violently cut short in July of 2012, and all the possible futures of Skylar Neese—and every benefit she would have brought to the people she had yet to encounter—have forever vanished.

  The murder is the central stone thrown into the pond, but the waves that ripple out represent all the lives irrevocably changed. Mary and Dave have suffered most from the killing of their daughter. So have their families, as have those of Shelia and Rachel. Skylar’s friends, too, must go on without her. The teenagers at University High School, even the ones who knew Skylar only in passing, had bits of themselves torn away, as well. So did the teachers who trusted Rachel and Shelia, but who now felt betrayed. Even people not directly affected by the murder or its aftermath—in the Morgantown community and well beyond—were stunned by the betrayal of two “best friends” and may never again be able to trust in quite the same way.

  Shelia’s trial for premeditated murder could never undo the damage. People still longed for it to reveal hidden truths, such as whether some mental illness turned these girls into killers, or what Rachel really meant when she said they didn’t want to be friends with Skylar anymore, or if Skylar was killed because they had to keep her quiet.

  Shelia’s arraignment took only fifteen minutes, but it contained all the elements of high drama. The court hearing was held September 17—eleven days before Shelia would turn eighteen.

  Shelia wore the same orange jumpsuit, white socks, and sandals as the rest of the inmates. The only female prisoner in the courtroom stood before the judge, her wrists and ankles shackled.

  The contrast between Shelia and her attorney couldn’t have been more pronounced. Mike Benninger was as tall, broad, and dark as Shelia was short, slight, and fair. Their voices were a stark contrast as well. His boomed, by far the loudest in the courtroom. Distinct and certain, his voice allowed everyone seated in the wood-paneled room to hear him without the need to lean forward, fearful of missing something. Hers was soft and uncertain, almost childlike. Benninger’s presenc
e made Shelia seem even smaller than she was, as if she could not possibly have committed the crimes with which she was charged.

  “Have you discussed the charges with your client?” Judge Clawges asked.

  “I have, your Honor. Carefully,” Benninger replied.

  “Does she understand the charges against her?”

  “She absolutely does,” the defense attorney said.

  Four times in a row, Shelia said, “Not guilty.” To one count of first-degree murder. To one count of kidnapping. To two counts of conspiracy to commit kidnapping and murder.

  Dave and Skylar’s aunt Carol sat three rows back. Before Shelia could finish her first “not guilty,” sobs were heard from their direction. People who came to observe, who had never met Skylar or her family, began to cry when they heard the sounds of grief coming from the Neese contingent.

  In court, Shelia appeared to be chewing gum. Inmates do not normally chew gum while waiting to plead to felony murder charges. But the most distinctive aspect of Shelia’s appearance was her emotional demeanor. Some people say they didn’t see a single tear. Others said her eyes were rimmed in red, as if she had been crying at some point during the judge’s questions.

  Some people said Shelia was smiling while she waited for her case to be called. Dave Neese believed she smiled right at him, as if to reassure him that everything was all right. Or to taunt him. News media photos and online reports from observers all seem to indicate that most people believed Shelia had been smiling throughout the procedure. As if she was enjoying the attention.36

  forty-four

  Judgment Days

  By her second hearing, on October 15, Shelia wasn’t smiling. At all.

  A photographer later remarked that, unlike the first court appearance, he didn’t see Shelia’s pearly whites even once. Bespectacled, with her hair pulled back in an updo, she looked even younger than she had at her arraignment two weeks earlier. Extremely subdued, Shelia struck one observer as “possibly drugged,” while another said she “looked like she was trying not to have an expression.”

  Whatever the reason for her September 17 arraignment smile, Shelia had apparently received a subsequent lesson in appropriate courtroom body language from her defense attorney. Whether out of nervousness or simply being unaware of how she appeared to onlookers, Shelia didn’t seem to appreciate the gravity of the situation the first time she was in court. This time, she did.

  Benninger filed the motions before Judge Clawges’ September 30 deadline. Twelve motions were filed, ranging from a request for bail to a motion to change venue to motions for suppression of evidence. Shelia had waived her right to a speedy trial and was at the pretrial motions hearing at 9:00 A.M. to hear the judge’s rulings.

  In support of his motions, Benninger told the court he’d recently received the FBI report. He said it contained numerous “technical lab studies and photos.” In addition, Benninger had “thousands of pages of documentation” he said supported his request to move the case out of Monongalia County.

  Clawges wasted no time on one motion in particular. When Benninger requested bail for his client, Clawges ruled swiftly: “No.”

  Benninger also asked to have the trial moved to another county because of “substantial publicity and prejudice”; to bring in jurors from another area; to have Rachel Shoaf’s testimony suppressed, due to her supposed mental instability; and to have all the charges dropped, citing prosecutorial misconduct.

  Prosecutor Ashdown responded to the motions later that week, saying no misconduct had occurred and disagreeing that Shelia’s chance at a fair trial has been hampered by excessive media reports.

  As for the motion to move the trial, some Monongalia County residents already knew a lot about the case, but many hadn’t even heard of it. Ashdown had gone to great lengths to prevent the media from revealing anything other than details that were a matter of public record anyway. She held no press conferences and made no public statements about teen killers or the plight of today’s youth. She had been keeping a tight lid on the case since Rachel’s confession in January.

  What Ashdown didn’t object to was the trial being delayed. Benninger requested this because he said his client’s legal team needed time to look through all the documents from the prosecution. Then, the start of the trial was actually moved to an earlier date, since the court had an open date on the docket. But it never came to pass. On a frigid Friday in January, Shelia Eddy shocked everyone when she pled guilty to first-degree murder.

  Anyone who saw Shelia’s criminal case file would question how the teen’s attorney could defend her. In the end, he couldn’t.

  “I have found negligible, if any, basis . . . to develop a defense,” Benninger said. He looked through “every piece of paper, video, and audio,” he received about the case, and met with or talked to his client or her family about thirty times. After digging through West Virginia, Pennsylvania, and even federal case law, Shelia’s defense attorney said he found nothing that would allow him to mount a reasonable defense for his client. In the end, Benninger realized “there was little more that I or anyone else could do for this young lady.”

  Media from New York City and elsewhere flew in to cover the January 24 hearing, which was broadcast over a live video feed online. People dressed in purple—Skylar’s favorite color—filled the courtroom. As Shelia was escorted in, she passed her mother and stepfather, her father, and other family members, as well as armed bailiffs wearing bulletproof vests.

  Her hair was in a low side ponytail, but her blonde highlights had grown out, changing her back to a brunette. She wore large-framed glasses and an orange jumpsuit. Her hands and feet were shackled. Like her last court appearance, Shelia seemed to move slowly, almost as if she were drugged. Or afraid of what was to come.

  By the time she took her seat at the defense table, her face was contorted and she began to cry. Oddly, it was one of the few times Shelia showed any emotion—causing many people to claim she cried crocodile tears. As Dave and others later said, “She wasn’t crying for what she’d done, she was crying because she got caught.”

  Although Shelia Eddy pled guilty to intentionally killing Skylar Neese, she didn’t utter one word about what she and her co-conspirator did—she simply pled guilty to all the charges Clawges read from his bench. Shelia said she understood what they meant. She said no one had pressured her to plead guilty. She even said her legal representation was good.

  But the words Skylar’s family most needed to hear—“I’m sorry”—were the ones Shelia couldn’t, or wouldn’t, say.

  Or perhaps equally important, “Please forgive me.”

  Although Benninger read from a prepared statement and said his client and her family recognized the Neeses are in “a constant state of despair, loneliness, and sadness,” the absence of those words from Shelia’s own mouth left those in attendance dumbfounded. They wondered how Shelia could plead guilty to premeditated, first-degree murder—but remain silent when she was given a chance to prove her remorse.

  In a room filled with the sound of weeping, Ashdown alluded to the motive behind the murder: Rachel and Shelia, she said, were “worried that Skylar would divulge their secrets. The kind of secrets girls have and . . .” Ashdown paused, “other things.”

  The prosecutor didn’t elaborate, but it seemed to be a direct reference to Shelia and Rachel’s sexual relationship. At first, Ashdown said, the two teens began to distance themselves from Skylar. But when they came to believe Skylar planned to expose their relationship, they murdered her.

  Ashdown confirmed they lured Skylar into Shelia’s vehicle, drove to the Blacksville area, and crossed the state line into Pennsylvania. They turned down a narrow country lane to an isolated area familiar to all three girls, where they planned to smoke weed.

  At times while listening to Ashdown, Mary teared up and snuggled closer into the crook of Dave’s right arm as he shook his head. The back of his neck was a florid red after the prosecutor described how Shelia a
nd Rachel had hidden knives on their bodies and how the FBI had found blood in the trunk of Shelia’s car.

  “Relax, relax,” Mary whispered in Dave’s ear.

  Ashdown continued, saying that instead of doing what Skylar thought they would do that night, Shelia and Rachel “both stabbed Skylar multiple times. Skylar fought back and tried to run but she was overcome by her attackers.”

  The prosecutor’s next words were especially poignant. “They changed into clean, unbloody clothes and returned to their lives.”

  Judge Clawges accepted Shelia’s guilty plea, saying she had waived her pre-sentencing rights. The family was invited to give an oral statement. Skylar’s mother, Mary, didn’t trust herself to speak. So her sister Carol spoke on her behalf.

  “She’s taken hopes and dreams from my sister,” Skylar’s aunt said. That’s because Mary Neese was cheated out of seeing Skylar go to the prom, graduate high school, or get married. With Skylar’s murder, Carol told the judge, Mary also lost any chance of becoming a grandmother. Everyone heard the sadness in Carol’s voice and saw the tears flow down her cheeks, and more people in the courtroom started crying.

  Moments after Carol returned to her seat, Dave Neese walked to the prosecutor’s table and began reading from a prepared statement. His voice was small and quiet, in complete contrast to his bearlike size. When he stumbled over the words, the lead investigator, Corporal Ronnie Gaskins, reached his arm out as if to imbue Dave with the strength needed to go on.

  Dave did, but not before he broke down sobbing. “My life and my wife’s life has been drastically altered. We are no longer a family,” Dave said.

  Many people in the courtroom wept openly at Carol and Dave’s words. No doubt Clawges was touched by what he heard, too, but in the end, that made no difference when it came to his sentence. Miller v. Alabama (U.S. Supreme Court, June 25 2012) requires “the court to impose a sentence of life imprisonment with mercy,” Clawges told Shelia, “which means you would be eligible for parole after fifteen years.”