In the Everitts’ front yard, a 500-foot driveway formed a half-circle on the property. The children were outside one day writing on it with sidewalk chalk. Madison sat on the front porch watching over them while they played.
Sharyn was in the back rooms of the house when she heard two sharp warning barks. She walked to the front of the house, looked out the window and saw Matthew Winkler leaving her property and crossing the street.
The 8-year-old boy in her care raced into the house. “There’s a man out there and he says he’s going to kill Madison.”
“You must have misunderstood,” Sharyn said. “That man’s not going to kill Madison. He’s the new preacher. You don’t need to be afraid.”
But he was, and so were the rest of the kids. They must have misunderstood what he said. He’s a preacher, Sharyn thought. She decided she needed to talk to him right away and clear up the misunderstanding.
The distance to the parsonage property was very short, but the incline up the driveway was quite steep. Unwilling to labor up the hill on foot, Sharyn drove over to the Winklers’. Matthew and Mary were outside with their girls, Patricia and Allie, who were bouncing a ball. She pulled up, rolled down the window and introduced herself.
“Matt Winkler,” he said in response.
Sharyn nodded and said, “I thought I’d come over ’cause my kids were upset and I thought they must have misunderstood what you said.”
“I think I made myself really clear,” Matthew said.
Sharyn was still certain the children were alarmed over nothing and Matthew didn’t realize what they thought he told them. She clarified, “The children said that you were going to shoot our dog.”
“Yes. That’s a rottweiler. Rottweilers kill people.” Matthew’s voice sounded etched with acid. “I have two children here. If your dog ever came after one of my kids, I’d kill it.”
As he spoke, Mary stepped back to stand beside the two girls as if she wanted to put distance between herself and Matthew’s words.
Fear, it’s just a matter of fear. I need to reassure him, Sharyn thought. “My dog won’t do that. She’s used to children. You could break into our house and she would let you, but she wouldn’t let you leave. You could come in with a gun in your hand and she’d grab that hand in her mouth. She’s protection-trained. But since you’re not going to break into my house, we don’t have a problem.”
“Look, lady. If I see that dog out of your yard, I’ll shoot it.”
Matthew wasn’t budging an inch. Talking to him seemed fruitless, so Sharyn changed the subject, turning her attention to Mary. “When’s your baby due?”
“April,” Mary told her.
“Do you know the sex?”
“It’s a little girl,” Mary said.
“I bet you’re excited.”
Matthew chimed in, “You can’t have too many princesses.”
What an odd thing to say. “Well, it was nice meeting you,” Sharyn said as she put her car in reverse and made her getaway.
“Don’t you forget,” Matthew hollered after her. “You keep that dog in your yard.”
“I’ll try,” Sharyn said, but she wasn’t sure how she’d make that happen. The neighbors across the street adored Madison. They often called her across to play ball. As long as Madison stayed out of the Winklers’ yard, there wouldn’t be a problem, Sharyn assured herself. Madison never roamed the neighborhood, so we have no cause for concern.
On the short drive back, Sharyn wondered about the addition to their neighborhood. This is not new neighbor behavior. This is not preacher behavior. What is this aggression? She put those thoughts aside and summoned up far more confidence than she felt as she comforted the children and promised them that everything would be fine. She calmed them for the moment, but she didn’t really convince them. They harbored a permanent fear of their new neighbor. They wouldn’t go over to the Winklers’ yard to play with the girls unless Matthew was away from home.
When her husband Dan returned from work, she told him about her encounter with Matthew Winkler—about his threats, his tone of voice, his severe body language. She said, “Any man who talks like that to another man’s wife is a man who abuses his own wife.”
Dan laughed off her concerns.
“I’m serious, Dan,” she said. “If he would say what he said and act that way with me, a neighbor, who knows what he’d do or say to his family?”
Two months later, Dan was mowing the front lawn when he spotted Matthew standing at the edge of the yard in the spot he just cut. Dan got off the mower and stepped over to Matthew and stuck out his hand.
The preacher wouldn’t accept his greeting—he kept his hands on his hips. “Your dog is in a neighbor’s yard. I’ve warned your wife. I’ll shoot that dog.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know. We have small foster children, sometimes they let the dog out.” Dan looked around, but didn’t see Madison. “Do you know where the dog is now?”
Matt said “No,” turned around and left.
Dan went into the house and discovered that Madison was inside. Matthew couldn’t have seen their dog, but there were two other rottweilers living on the street. It must have been one of them. “You’re right,” Dan told Sharyn as he related his experience with Matthew. “I bet he is an abuser.”
Not everyone in the community believed that the Everitts’ version of events was accurate. Despite Sharyn’s protestations that Madison was harmless, Vice Principal Pam Killingsworth thought otherwise. She said that a number of men on Mollie Drive had threatened to shoot that dog. She recalled one day when Sharyn, whose granddaughter attended Selmer Elementary, came into the school office heavily bandaged. When Pam asked what happened, Sharyn said, “The dog bit me. I think I’m going to have to start chaining her up.”
Chapter 16
Breanna Eloise Winkler was born on March 9, 2005, but something appeared to be wrong with her. Doctors held her in the hospital for an evaluation for a suspected liver malfunction. That proved to be a false alarm, but during the stay, respiratory problems became evident. They felt she would outgrow the problem, but made the parents aware of their need to monitor the situation.
Finally, Mary and the baby were home. In no time, Mary jumped into the fray of a busy life as a mother of three and wife of a preacher. The newborn was a happy baby who seemed to love the world and everyone in it. She never fussed as her mother happily passed her around before services to be admired by the congregation while Matthew joyfully welcomed members to what he called “the best place to be on the best day of the week.”
Mary barely had time to adjust to being the mother of three when trouble crossed their doorstep again. Patricia, playing with a golf club, accidentally swung it into Allie’s head. The resulting injury required surgery. After the unexpectedly high medical bill for Breanna’s hospital stay, the financial burden—not to mention the emotional burden—of this new medical crisis was crippling.
Pam Killingsworth got to know the Winkler family on multiple levels. In church, she discovered, Matthew was a dynamic speaker with a forceful style. He put his whole self into giving his lesson. His charisma in the pulpit held everyone’s attention.
Outside of church services, he met his ministerial obligations without fail—counseling with members, making hospital visits and always remaining on hand for youth group activities. During his brief tenure, he increased church membership from 140 to 200 souls.
It warmed Pam’s heart when she spotted Matthew sitting in the congregation during the announcements and a capella singing of old-fashioned hymns, because he always held the baby. And he often spoke in and out of the pulpit about his love for Mary and the girls.
At school, Pam often saw Matthew at the girls’ basketball games. But for many other activities, his responsibilities at church kept him away. Pam encountered Mary far more often. She drove Patricia and Allie to and from school every day with Lady, the Great Dane, riding shotgun. One day she arrived in a Toyota Sienna mini-van. When Pam asked ab
out her new wheels, Mary said, “Yes, Matthew is going to take care of me and the girls.” Pam thought that was an odd thing to say, but read nothing into it.
More often than not, Mary showed up for school events in a pair of overalls, a shirt and a turned-up baseball cap, pushing a stroller. She was active in the PTO, attended the school festivals—both the Spring Fling and the Fall Carnival—and often dropped in for lunch with the girls. She was there after school for the girls’ music lessons with a private instructor—Patricia studied piano, Allie, voice.
Patricia was the family tomboy. She wore dresses to church, but was far happier in a pair of jeans or pants. She read a lot and was a good student, but always had to have something to do. She loved playing video games and competed hard with Pam’s 19-year-old son, the youngest of her three boys. They all loved playing with baby Breanna when the Winkler kids were at the house. The young men were at a loss sometimes with Allie. She was a little prissy and loved to play with dolls and girly games. But she was a social butterfly who wrapped them all in her spell.
Pam got a real kick out of the times when Patricia and Allie came to school saying that they spent the night with friends because Mommy and Daddy went out on a date. Trained in children’s behavioral problems, and an old hand at noticing the children who were experiencing turmoil in their home life, Pam never noticed any red flags with the two Winkler girls. After Allie’s initial trouble adjusting to a new school, both girls seemed happy and well-adjusted. Pam was certain that the Winkler couple had a great relationship. They walked together in the park, as a couple or with their children, often accompanied by a dog or two. They were often seen holding hands, smiling at one another and laughing together. The couple planned a five day trip on April 20 to celebrate their ten-year wedding anniversary. Their happiness seemed undeniable. The enjoyment they got from their children and from each other was obvious enough to generate positive comment and smiles from observers.
Fourth Street Church of Christ secretary Betty Wilkerson shared Pam’s assessment of Matthew and Mary’s married relationship. She never saw anything amiss. She never heard yelling or demeaning comments like the ones remembered by the church secretary at Matt’s last position. Mary came in often to share lunch with Matthew. They interacted with each other over the meal like a wholesome, “all-American” married couple.
Chapter 17
Though they’d since moved to McMinnville and then Selmer, Matthew and Mary maintained friendship with Glenn and Brandy Jones in Pegram. They traveled with the three girls up north to visit over the Memorial Day weekend and had a relaxing, fun-filled time. The Joneses noticed no signs of discord in the Winkler family.
The two couples got together again for the Joneses anniversary celebration in August. Glenn wanted to purchase a gun for home protection. Brandy was hesitant to have a weapon in the house. They discussed this conflict with Matthew and Mary.
Mary said, “Brandy, you’d probably be more comfortable if you went to a firing range and learned how to use the gun. Matthew took me and taught me how to use ours, and I wasn’t bothered by it any longer.”
On December 1, Mary made a large deposit into the joint account she shared with Matthew at Regions Bank through the ATM. The $6,455 check was drawn on T.C.C. Co operate Limited, and it was fraudulent. At that time, it was unlikely that Mary knew the check would bounce. It was probable that she believed she’d won one of the many sweepstakes entries she submitted.
Just before Christmas, Selmer Elementary School celebrated an annual tradition, Breakfast with Santa. Mary and Matthew beamed with pride as Patricia and Allie sang a duet during the program.
In McMinnville, Evon Dennis, the Winklers’ former neighbor, opened a Christmas card postmarked in Selmer. The photo greeting inside filled her with delight. It was a picture of her old Christmas tree surrounded by Matthew, Mary and the two little girls she adored, and the new baby she had never seen.
Meanwhile in Huntingdon, Matthew’s father Dan didn’t want his mother spending Christmas all alone. On October 23 that year—after fifty-six years of marriage—she lost her 74-year-old husband Wendell to cancer. Dan brought her up to his home for the holidays and invited the rest of the family. The new widow spent the day surrounded by children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Matthew, Mary and their brood then drove to Knoxville for a two-hour visit with the Freeman clan.
On New Year’s Eve, Pam Killingsworth planned a surprise fiftieth wedding anniversary celebration for her parents. Matthew came in early to help her set up the projector and get ready for the event. He was very quiet that night, not his typical talkative self. She wondered what was bothering him. When Mary arrived with the children, Matthew took Breanna and carried her around all night.
That month, Mary enrolled for nine credit hours at Freed-Hardeman University School of Education. She wanted to complete her degree and find a teaching position working with special needs children.
By early February 2006, Mary knew her December 1 deposit did not clear. On February 11, she visited Regions Bank and changed the mailing address on the account from her street address on Mollie Drive to a post office box rented in her name only.
On February 15, a day she had classes at Freed-Hardeman in Henderson, she walked into First State Bank in that town with $100 cash. She opened an account there in her name only, providing her cell phone number and her post office box address as contact information.
Six days later, Mary wrote a check for $7,000 from that account and deposited it in the joint account at Regions Bank to cover the overdraft caused by the bad check from December.
She went to the post office and filled out a change of address form to divert all of the mail addressed to the Mollie Street location to her post office box.
Brandy Jones and Mary finally got together again in person. They had dinner at the Olive Garden and then browsed through a book store. Mary talked about her marriage and her new community. “I am happier than I have ever been. We would never even think of leaving West Tennessee.”
Mary also spoke about problems she had with her family in Knoxville. She complained that her father and her adopted siblings had let her down. They didn’t come to events, or offer her any emotional support. She said she had, for all intents and purposes, separated from them.
In early March, Matthew went to Freed-Hardeman with Mary. While she went to class, Matt registered for the master’s program in Bible. He would start his graduate studies in the fall.
Matt’s father Dan, now teaching classes at the University, ran into the couple in the parking lot. Matt told him about his enrollment.
“Is Mary going to continue her schooling, too?” Dan asked.
“Yes,” Matt said. “She’ll finish up in December.” He explained that they’d cleared up their credit card debt when they received a settlement from an accident in Nashville, where an intoxicated woman ran into Matthew’s car. “We were very thankful we were able to do that,” he added, with a smile to Mary.
“When she finishes up in December, we’ll take all of the monies she makes with her new job and first, we’ll pay off the mini-van, and then we’re gonna pay off the school loans. Then, we’ll be debt-free.” Matt’s pride was obvious, and Dan congratulated the couple on their improved financial situation. Mary did not mention the ongoing mess at the bank, nor did she mention the correspondence and check she just received.
Mary’s letter from Saatchi and Saatchi in Canada read:
We are pleased to advice [sic] you that you are one of the winners in the second category of Lottery Draw held on SEPTEMBER 19th, 2005.
Your ticket with serial number 38745014AL drew the lucky winning numbers 22-87-76-44-24.
You are therefore entitled to the sum of US $250,000.00 payable to you by bank draft, money order of certified check.
Enclosed is a check of US $4900 which was deducted from your winnings.
The purpose of this check is for the payment of the Non Resident Government Service Tax (GST) Payable in C
anada.
The tax amount is $2,950.00 to be paid either by WESTERN UNION OR MONEYGRAM.
You are advised to contact your claims agent
LINDA SMITH Tel 1-778-862-7083,
Monday——Saturday, 7:30 am…. To 6:30 pm…(Pacific Standard Time)
For further instructions on claiming your big winning.
Congratulations!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yours Truly,
John Tyler
(Promotions Manager)
Mary deposited the enclosed check into her First State Bank account in Henderson on March 13. She did not remit the $2,950 as instructed. Three days later, she wrote a check for $4,000 on her personal account and deposited it in the joint account at Regions Bank in Selmer.
On Monday, March 20, Mary deposited a $4,880 check from Trust Financial Services into First State. That same day, she submitted two checks from First State to Regions Bank in the amounts of $2,000 and $4,000. After banking hours, she slipped another check for $1,500 along with $300 in cash into the night drop box.
Both the $4,900 and $4,880 checks she deposited in First State were worthless. Because of that, there were insufficient funds for the checks she wrote to Regions Bank.
Mary was in a state of panic. The next day, it only got worse.
Chapter 18
Selmer Elementary School hired Mary as a substitute teacher. Tuesday, March 21, was her first day on duty.
Regions Bank drive-in teller Amy Hollingsworth called Mary’s cell phone and said, “Ms. Winkler, I cannot deposit the fifteen-hundred-dollar check you left yesterday, because there are insufficient funds in the First State account. I did deposit the three hundred dollars in cash into your account.”
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