Murder in the Heartland

by M. William Phelps

  “I believe the Kansas City region will become the model in fighting the growing wave of crime against children,” Graves said, standing proudly. He was preparing the city for its recent inception of the RCFL, which later would become a major part of the investigation into the Bobbie Jo Stinnett murder case.

  “Our children will be safer because of these efforts.”

  The recovery of Victoria Jo two years after Graves made that speech certainly validated his promise; but there was more to Todd Graves than going after the latest criminal element. On top of his core belief of going after child predators, Graves was often applauded for his stern stance on prosecuting any type of corruption inside the system he valued and worked so hard to keep clean. He wasn’t one to pass up a chance to go after anyone, including colleagues who broke the law. It hadn’t mattered to Graves what job you held inside the government, where you were born, or who your daddy was. If you decided to break federal laws in his jurisdiction, consider yourself his enemy.

  In late 2000, President George Bush noticed the work Todd Graves was doing in Missouri and nominated him for the state’s top federal law enforcement job in the Western District. That was on July 30, 2001. Then, six days after the United States experienced its worst act of terrorism on domestic soil, as the Twin Towers in New York and the Pentagon in Virginia smoldered, and more than three thousand people were considered missing and presumed dead, Graves held up his right hand and took the oath of office. He was confirmed approximately one month later, in October 2001.

  With a staff of 119 in downtown Kansas City, where Graves’s office overlooks East Ninth Street in the Charles Evans Whittaker Courthouse building, the office Graves manages oversees more than half of Missouri’s 114 counties. Among them is Nodaway County, where Lisa Montgomery had admitted strangling Bobbie Jo Stinnett and snatching her fetus from her womb. Because Lisa allegedly had taken the baby over a state line into Kansas, she had committed a violation of the federal law, thus making the case, which was already building against her, Todd Graves’s job to prosecute. The actual charge Lisa would face was severe: kidnapping resulting in death, a crime punishable by the death penalty or a mandatory life sentence and a $250,000 fine.

  If she was found guilty, Lisa Montgomery’s life would be over. Her children would never see her again as a free woman. Contact among them would be through a three-inch-thick section of Plexiglas, their voices resonating over an intercom phone monitored by prison officials.

  On the night Victoria Jo was found, the press hounded Graves’s office. Ben Espey fielded hundreds of calls from all over the world. Espey continued working the microphones, trying to relate any detail he could without damaging the case being built against Lisa. In the end, Espey had done his job and fulfilled a promise he had made to Zeb. As Espey saw it, the legal case was out of his hands. The feds could have their way and take all the glory for all he cared. The baby was back home.

  “That was all I ever wanted.”

  After commenting on the status of Victoria Jo, Todd Graves had little to add.

  Espey, who was going on two days without as much as a catnap, made himself available all evening. He announced the baby’s name for the first time in public and told the press she had been united with Zeb at Stormont-Vail Regional Health Center in Topeka.

  Announcing the name of the hospital sent a herd of press racing to the parking lot of Stormont, hoping to get that first exclusive interview with anyone close to the Stinnett family, or better, a photograph of the baby the entire world was eager to see.

  Lisa, meanwhile, continued to spin one lie after another. Espey and Graves shared with reporters some of what she had been telling investigators while in custody.

  “She had a miscarriage at some point this year,” Espey said, “and lost a twin.” He didn’t mention where the information had come from, but it wasn’t difficult to ascertain Lisa was starting to talk. Nor did Espey know she was lying.

  Espey took it one step further when he told one reporter that Lisa “was six months along when the child was lost.”

  Reporters, curious to learn anything they could about Lisa and her state of mind, asked Espey about a possible motive.

  “I think she was probably going to take it because she had lost one through a miscarriage….” Additionally, Espey said that “the attacker worked deftly and probably had some medical knowledge.”

  Many of the reporters wanted details regarding Victoria Jo’s health. Lisa was no doctor, and she had not taken the child to see one. Considering the violent delivery, how was the child faring?

  “We have no indications that the child was hurt in any way,” Espey confirmed. “The child’s probably going to be okay.”

  Smiling, Espey took off his sheriff’s cap and wiped his brow, taking a long breath. What a day and night it had been.

  One reporter asked about the details of the crime.

  “More than likely, our victim has been strangled…. Evidence would show the baby was probably wrapped up and taken home.”

  Some of the evidence included bloody sheets and blankets found inside the trunk of Lisa’s car, one insider noted later, along with “other items” leading authorities to believe Lisa had worked alone.

  Espey wanted to stress that without the Amber Alert, the child would not have been found.

  “We may have not ever recovered this little baby if the Amber Alert system was not put into place,” he said. “I’m overwhelmed.”

  As reporters continued to launch questions, the exhausted sheriff kept speaking from his heart.

  “The FBI, there were seven or eight FBI agents that came in, tremendously helped us. Because some of the computer stuff was a little bit out of our control, they knew about it, and they were able to dig right into that and get things going. And Randy Strong, he started from hour one and stayed with us through the whole thing. Most everybody here’s been up continuous. And we’ve run leads all night long. And we continued to run leads. When this Amber Alert came out, that’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to law enforcement and to our children. We took an anonymous tip that came from several states away from here”—the Dyanne Siktar IP address of Darlene Fischer and Auntie Mary’s phone call—“[that gave] us some information that led us to Kansas…and we may have not ever got that. We may have not ever recovered this little baby—if the Amber Alert system was not put into play.”

  After stepping back from the assortment of microphones in front of him, collecting himself, Espey added one final thought: “And so with that, we’re happy. We’re very happy.”

  Sergeant Sheldon Lyons, a spokesman for the MSHP, thanked everyone who had helped work on the case. “This is a great day for law enforcement in Northwest Missouri,” Sergeant Lyons said.

  To Ben Espey’s chagrin, FBI SA Jeff Lanza, who had stood in the background as Espey laid out the details, took a step forward. “Just also want to say thank you to the sheriff’s department,” said Lanza, “for the fine work they did, and the Missouri Highway Patrol, of course.”

  Rick Thorton, a colleague of Lanza’s, stepped forward next. Building on what Lanza, Espey, and the MSHP had said already, Thorn echoed their sentiments and reiterated the belief that the investigation was a “collaborative effort.

  “This is how it’s supposed to work. Where we all come together. We bring our own unique strengths to the investigative arena, and at the end of the day, in this case, it was a good outcome for us, the best outcome we could hope for.”

  Reporters had a barrage of questions, beginning with, “If not for the Amber Alert, would this baby have been possibly in danger?”

  “The baby was certainly in danger throughout…,” Lanza said.

  “Father and baby are together right now?”

  “That’s my understanding,” someone said.

  “Is it a man and woman in custody?” one reporter shouted from the back.

  “We’re not going to comment on anything of that nature at this point now,” Lanza said.
/>   “But no arrests so far?”

  “That’s correct. Thank you very much.”

  58

  Annie’s rat terrier message board, Ratter Chatter, was brimming with emotion on the night of December 17. Rat terrier breeders and fellow terrier owners were saddened at the thought that one of their own had been brutally murdered. Even more affecting was the government’s allegation that Bobbie Jo had been murdered by a fellow breeder.

  After hearing Lisa had been taken into custody, one woman wrote, “I cannot believe how sorrowful I am…. I don’t know what’s worse: the horrible crime, or the possibility that it might be Lisa.”

  Another member said, “I am sitting here in shock…. I am absolutely horrified.”

  In Topeka, at the hospital, Zeb Stinnett, still in mourning over the loss of his wife, had pulled himself together enough to release a statement after he and members of his immediate family had seen Victoria Jo for the first time.

  “She is a miracle,” Zeb said through the statement. “I want to thank my family, friends, Amber Alert, and law enforcement officials for their support during this time.”

  On Bobbie Jo’s Web site, someone summed up the day’s events poignantly: “Thank God the precious baby girl was found alive and well. Bobbie Jo will live on through her daughter.”

  The clergyman who had married Bobbie Jo and Zeb, Reverend Harold Hamon, who was said to be preparing to officiate Bobbie Jo’s funeral service after her body was released from the coroner’s office, put it all into simple terms by saying the town of Skidmore was “stunned by everything” and would never be the same. “The only one who can figure this out is God,” Hamon continued when reporters caught up with him. “You can’t explain it. You can’t understand it. The funeral is going to be a tough one.”

  The focus for most reporters soon shifted to the Stormont-Vail Regional Health Center in Topeka, specifically its neonatal care unit, one of the few facilities of its kind in West Missouri. Every newspaper editor and television producer wanted the first photograph of Victoria Jo. Just a simple shot of the little “miracle child” with her father was headline news.

  That first photograph wasn’t going to appear any time soon, however. Security around the hospital was tight, especially near the neonatal unit, with extra security personnel visible immediately upon entering the parking lot. The hospital put Carol Wheeler, its acting spokesperson, in charge of juggling hundreds of requests from the media.

  Every major American television network and newspaper, Wheeler said, called the hospital for an update on the child’s condition. The BBC and several British newspapers were also making inquiries. By late evening, Wheeler said, the hospital had fielded some “three hundred media phone calls and other requests.” Producers from the Today Show, the Early Show and Good Morning America were calling, as were dozens of local television and radio stations.

  “Everyone except Oprah,” Wheeler added, “called at some point.”

  Doctors were “somewhat surprised” at Victoria Jo’s condition. “She really is a miracle,” Wheeler reiterated. The hospital’s early assessment found no sign Victoria Jo had suffered any long-term injuries or was in any immediate medical harm. In fact, despite her traumatic delivery and being born one month premature, not to mention the extraordinary life she apparently had led over the past twenty-four hours, the child was in superb physical health. She would have to stay in the neonatal unit for an undetermined number of days, but with any luck, Zeb would be able to take her home by the middle of the following week.

  Lisa Montgomery was being held in Kansas at the Wyandotte County Jail and was expected to make her first appearance in federal court on Monday, December 20, 2004.

  There was still some question regarding whether authorities would be pressing charges against Lisa in Missouri or in Kansas, but since Todd Graves had made it a point to involve his U.S. Attorney’s Office, most believed Lisa would be extradited soon to Missouri.

  Late that night, Ben Espey told reporters he and other law enforcement officials were having serious reservations about Lisa’s story of being pregnant.

  “She told people she was pregnant and had a miscarriage and lost one of the twins,” Espey said, “[but] we’re thinking she never was pregnant.” He raised his eyebrows as he spoke, hinting that he knew more. Then he said he couldn’t take any additional questions but would have more information the following morning.

  59

  As the night progressed, the story of Bobbie Jo Stinnett’s murder and the recovery of her stolen child took on gargantuan proportions as talking heads hosted experts in every crime field imaginable on air, trying to understand the nature of the murder, how it could have happened in the heartland of America, and who was this woman who allegedly had committed such an unthinkable crime. Not even an undersea earthquake of biblical proportions, which would occurr in the coming days, was enough to reduce coverage of the Lisa Montgomery story. Because of the size of the quake, reverberations on the surface of the water generated a tsunami that killed a reported 150,000 people, making it one of the deadliest disasters in history.

  As reporters and television talk-show hosts looked for any background information they could dredge up on Lisa Montgomery, other similar stories, which hadn’t generated the same amount of attention or press coverage, surfaced.

  Bobbie Jo’s murder was not the first case of maternal homicide in the Midwest. Moreover, a yearlong study by the Washington Post concluded that over the past fourteen years—1990 to 2004—some “1,367 pregnant women and new mothers” had been killed. Although the “phenomenon…is as consequential as it is poorly understood,” wrote Post staff reporter Donna St. George, it is also “largely invisible.”

  The most noticeable difference between the victims in other maternal homicide cases and Bobbie Jo Stinnett was that most of the other women hardly fit the “girl next door” image that Bobbie Jo had. In many of the stories published about the other cases—stories few and far between—the victims were rarely mentioned. The general buzz of the reports centered on the alleged murderers. In contrast, with Bobbie Jo’s story, the focus always had been on her young life being cut short, her unborn child, the small town she grew up in, and the people in town who spoke of her as the crown jewel of the community.

  Cable television talk-show hosts and journalists—Anderson Cooper, Dan Abrams, Larry King, Greta Van Susteren, Rita Cosby, Catherine Crier—were running daily coverage of Bobbie Jo’s story, reporting every development as it became known. The print media were even more varied, running the gamut from tabloid magazines to every major newspaper in the country and all over the world. Reporters were flying into Kansas City and heading northwest toward Skidmore and south toward Melvern, looking to answer the question everyone seemed to be scratching their heads over: why would a woman—a mother herself—allegedly commit such an inconceivable act of violence against another woman? Lisa Montgomery had not one criminal count against her before December 17, 2004. What was it in her background, in her life, that led her down such a path? How did she turn out the way she did? What truly motivated her?

  The answers, of course, were in Lisa’s past, leading right up until the day Bobbie Jo was murdered. Although the press hadn’t caught up to him yet, there was one man who knew Lisa better than anyone, someone who, indeed, held all of her secrets.

  60

  Carl Boman was at his sister’s house in Bartlesville, Oklahoma, a four-hour drive south on Route 75 from Melvern, when he heard his ex-wife had been arrested and was likely going to be charged with murdering a woman and kidnapping her unborn child. Carl’s current wife, Vanessa, called him with the news.

  “Hurry up and get home,” said Vanessa in a rush of words.

  A heavyset woman, with curly brown hair and a pronounced British accent, Vanessa grew up in England and, she said, “had always wanted to live in the United States. I was offered the chance by a Mennonite Church [in the states] to come over and work as a teacher’s aide for some kids who were o
ut of control.” After arriving in the States around 2000, and meeting Carl Boman under “rather bad circumstances, in the middle of the night, on my way home from the airport in Phoenix, Arizona,” Vanessa said she has “lived to regret the choice to be with Carl, as it has been so very painful for me….”

  In the fairy tale of her life with Carl’s children, Vanessa quickly became the Wicked Witch. She was at odds, it seemed, with Lisa and the kids all the time.

  When she called Carl and told him what Lisa allegedly had done, she was frantic and “very upset,” recalled Carl.

  “Are you kidding?” said Carl.

  “Tonya called me,” said Vanessa. “I cannot believe this, Carl.” Tonya had been watching television and saw a live feed from a local station, which showed helicopters flying over Lisa and Kevin’s house in Melvern. She recognized it right away and put it all together.

  According to Vanessa, she collapsed on the floor after seeing Lisa’s picture “on the computer” and again when they started showing photographs of Bobbie Jo on television. She had a daughter from a previous marriage around the same age as Bobbie Jo and was “sick” over how Carl’s kids were going to be affected by what was being reported.