Baby Be Mine (28 page)

Congress had plenty of time in 2005 to play political games and point fingers of blame. They had plenty of time to diddle and fret about gay marriage, pork projects and building walls on our borders to separate our country from another—resurrecting the unwelcome ghost of the Berlin Wall in the land of the free.

The congressmen seemed to have lots of time on their hands, but they could not find the time to address more urgent concerns of the American public. They could not locate the necessary funding to help low-income families pay for heating costs in a year when the price of heating oil and natural gas skyrocketed. Nor could they find the time to deal with the pending health care crisis as the number of uninsured Americans escalated.

And they could not find the time to talk about and take action on the Tory Jo's Loophole bill—a bill that could save the lives of babies across the nation. Tori Jo survived the eight-hour delay in the commencement of the Amber Alert. Although the profile of infant abductors indicated that they would not intentionally harm their victim, there was no guarantee that the next baby taken in a caesarean abduction would be as fortunate as Tori Jo.

Lisa's youngest child, Kayla, spent 2005 rebuilding her life. At Dewey High School in October she was named one of two Sophomore Students of the Month. The faculty made the selection based on the criteria that the recipient was an all-round good student with great attitudes toward the school community and who demonstrated respect for others. Winning this award put Kayla in the running for Student of the Year honors.

Taking a positive legacy from her mother, Kayla made plans to raise her own rat terriers. She owned one spayed
female that could not be bred but co-owned a male that could. She was saving money as fast as possible to purchase the dogs she needed to get a breeding business off the ground.

After the Stinnett murder, dog lovers across the country re-examined their lifetime habits. A woman named Heather wrote in an online chat room:

You know, not only was this a tragedy for the mother and her entire family and community, but it was a real wake-up call for me and Neil. I've driven into the boondocks to pick up dogs from total strangers, or “shelters” that are nothing but a few cyclone fence enclosures and a metal shed. Neil has always thought I was taking too many risks, and I vehemently disagreed. I always felt like I couldn't stop living my life because some nut-job might want to do me harm someday.

But this story really shook me. Partly because it was so heinous, and partly because something similar to this could happen to me or any number of people I know at any time. We've decided to start looking again for a second dog, and he has my promise that I won't go alone, and I will always leave directions and contact information for people I'm meeting even if I know them.

In the rat terrier communities, Bobbie Jo's death led to sorrow, paranoia and conflict. Jason Dawson would no longer allow anyone to come to his home to look at puppies unless he was there. He would not take a risk with his wife or children.

Pat Kennedy no longer handed out maps to her home-based kennel. She would not let people drop by on their own timetable. She made rigid appointments and guarded her address with care. It was more than just Bobbie Jo's death that drove her vigilance. She read a story about a rat terrier litter
stolen from another breeder's yard—every puppy gone except for one who had burrowed under a blanket and gone unseen by the puppy thief. Pat put padlocks on her gates and dreamed of a safer world.

Dyanne Siktar remarked in a chat room that none of them should post personal information like the news of a pregnancy online. That earned her a lot of grief. She was slammed by one emailer after another. Yet, law enforcement endorsed the truth of her statement. Sheriff Espey said, “Everyone we interviewed said what a good person Bobbie Jo was. Her only mistake was to put a photo of herself pregnant on the Internet.”

R
umors swirled around Nodaway County in the summer of 2005 that Zeb Stinnett was about to remarry. A member of the Stinnett clan confirmed that his live-in babysitter Terri was his new fiancée. Hand in hand with that story was another: Zeb and his family were putting up blockades to limit Becky Harper's time with Bobbie Jo's baby.

“It's Zeb this and Zeb that,” one woman said, “but nothing is ever said about Becky. Sure, Zeb lost his wife of two years, but Bobbie Jo's mother lost her only daughter and her only grandchild was stolen. What about her? What about Becky's pain? Why do they make it so hard for her to see her granddaughter?”

In late July, Becky filed a petition in Holt County Court requesting more visitation with her grandchild. Zeb responded to the court in August saying that he'd restricted contact with the baby because of Becky's “bizarre” behavior.
He claimed she broke into his home and stole a number of items.

Becky admitted to entering his home—but it was not a break-in, she had a key. She also acknowledged taking articles from the home, but all she removed were items belonging to Bobbie Jo that were given to he by her maternal grandmother. Becky did not want Terri—or anyone Zeb married—laying claim to them. “I want my granddaughter to have this stuff,” she said. She just wanted to keep these special items secure for Tori Jo until she was older.

Another bone of contention between Zeb and Becky concerned what information Tori Jo should know about her mother's death. In his petition, Zeb insisted that Becky should never talk to Tori Jo about “any events concerning the death and demise of her natural mother.” Becky said that learning a distorted version of the truth from mocking classmates would be a cruel, cold way for any child to learn about her mother's fate.

Becky insisted that she would always be responsible and age-appropriate with anything she told her granddaughter. “Later on, somebody is going to tell her. I hope it's him,” she said referring to Zeb. “I hope he tells her before she goes to school.”

The possibility of Zeb's marriage was an incendiary element coursing beneath the surface of the interaction between Zeb and Becky. If Zeb did marry Terri and Terri adopted Tori Jo, Becky's rights as a grandparent—as limited as they were—would instantly cease altogether, according to current law in Missouri. This fact sent chills up the spine of every loving grandparent who heard it.

Cheryl Huston and Carla Wetzel planned a remembrance service on the one-year anniversary of Bobbie Jo's death and Tori Jo's birth—Friday, December 16, 2005. They wanted to gather everyone next to the brick memorial built to Bobbie Jo's memory in the park in Skidmore. ‘The entire community
watched Becky grow up and watched Bobbie Jo grow up. It's good to gather together to support Becky and remember that Bobbie Jo lived,” Cheryl said.

The press release for the event announced three reasons for the gathering:

A primary purpose of the event is to remember Bobbie Jo Stinnett. It is being held by friends of the family and by caring members of her community. It is being held in support of her family, in an effort to let them know we care about them.

A secondary purpose of the event is to raise awareness of legislation regarding Tori's Loophole in the Amber Alert. A final purpose of this event is to bring further awareness to restrictions on grandparents' rights of visitation in Missouri. The maternal grandmother is currently limited in visitation.

“Limited visitation” was as officious and cold a phrase as could be imagined under these circumstances. Becky Harper's grief was a harsh wound that went deep. She carried Bobbie Jo in her womb for nine months. She raised her, nurtured her, loved her for all 23 years of her life. Limiting her visitation seemed to be an act of heartlessness and insensitivity—if not downright cruelty. Two weeks before Tori Jo's first birthday, Becky told reporter Kathryn Lister: “Victoria doesn't take the place of my daughter, but she is a comfort. When she smiles it eases the pain.”

The standing of grandparents' rights in Missouri as well as in most other states seemed on the surface to be a denial of the bond between grandchild and grandparent. In reality, though, the issue was far more complex.

In 1965, grandparents' rights were a newly recognized legal concept. For the three decades after that year, the acknowledgment of these rights expanded as state legislators adopted laws to protect the visitation rights with grandchildren.

Then the courts reversed the trend—finding these laws in
many states to be unconstitutional because they limited the rights of the parents. Even the common standard of decisions based on “the best interests of the child” was overturned in four different states.

The challenges to the law arose from the adversarial nature of divorce itself. Some grandparents used the children as pawns to get back at a former in-law. Their self-centered actions caused a backlash that created a hardship for every loving grandparent whose sole motivation was to maintain contact with their grandchildren.

Cheryl and Carla realized that broadening the rights of all grandparents could open the door to future abuse. However, they advocated an amendment to protect the rights of a grandparent when a child's parent was deceased. The importance of that family link in that situation should be recognized—the added dimension of that bond should be enhanced, not erased.

The evening of the remembrance service was bitter cold—the temperature was 19 degrees and falling. A full moon smiled down on Skidmore and not a single cloud drifted by to obscure the stars. Red and white strands of Christmas icicle lights glittered on the gazebo. Flickering candles circled the memorial to Bobbie Jo, and one lone candle shone bright at the tree planted in memory of Wendy Gillenwater. As people approached the park, Carla and Cheryl offered lit candles to everyone who arrived.

Carla emceed the service, introducing each speaker to the crowd of one hundred shivering souls gathered that night. At 7
P.M.,
the remembrance opened with a prayer. The first speaker to address the crowd was Cheryl Huston: “I spent hours trying to come up with just the right things to say tonight,” she said. Then she crinkled up the pages of her prepared statement and tossed them aside and spoke from her heart. “Nothing I say up here is going to do the one thing that would make Becky feel better, and that is to give her back Bobbie Jo.”

Cheryl talked about the closeness between Bobbie Jo and Becky, shared her memories of the little girl who was so full of life, and voiced the hope that Bobbie Jo's life would be remembered. “She didn't just die tragically and her pictures flashed in the papers. She lived, loved horses, loved dogs, she adopted everything with a fuzzy face.”

Then Cheryl turned the crowd's focus to the crime itself. “One year ago, a woman from Kansas came here to our community and from that point on, all she did was take. She took Bobbie Jo's life. She caused all of this heartache and destroyed so many lives to cover up the web of lies she had woven for months.”

Cheryl wrapped up her comments by talking about the importance of grandparents to children, particularly in the case of a murdered parent, and urged everyone to write letters to their state representatives. She advocated for the passage of the proposed Tory Jo's Loophole amendment to the Amber Alert law.

After a few words from a spokesman from the office of United States Representative Sam Graves, Sheriff Ben Espey addressed the candlelit group. He thanked the media for the role they played in the recovery of Tori Jo and thanked the other members of law enforcement who were present at the service that night. “This shows respect for the family. This community has been labeled as a bad community, and it's not. This murder was a freak thing that shouldn't have happened. But the good news is that little baby survived and how everyone has pulled together.”

When asked if he was permitted to visit Tori Jo, he said, “I pretty much have an open-door policy to see her whenever I want.”

Many in the crowd were glad to see that Zeb acknowledged his debt of gratitude to Sheriff Espey by allowing him to see the little girl. At the same time, they could not understand why this same freedom was not granted to the mother of his wife, Bobbie Jo.

Reverend Hamon followed Sheriff Espey and continued
the theme of togetherness. He recalled how the country pulled together in the aftermath of the attack on Pearl Harbor and after the terrorist strike on September 11, 2001. He drew a parallel to those incidents and recent events. “And I saw the same thing a year ago. When tragedy strikes, you can fall apart, roll over and play dead, or you can rise to the occasion. I just thank God that we can share together as members of a community such as we have here. Tragedy comes, but we don't have to be defeated by it.” He then closed the service by leading everyone in prayer.

The gathering moved into the Newton Community Hall—former home of Mom's Café” and the backdrop for Ken McElroy's fatal drama—to share memories and get shelter from the cold and the wind. Some present expressed disappointment that Tori Jo was not there. Others responded to their complaints with common sense—it was just too cold a night to be taking a baby outside at all.

But everyone agreed on one thing—Zeb Stinnett's absence was conspicuous. Most of the folks there knew Zeb. They knew he was an introvert—but still his absence was unset-ding. In honor of his wife's memory, they thought, he should have set aside his personal aversion to public appearances and attended her remembrance service. Some even wondered out loud if he really cared—if he really missed Bobbie Jo.

The next day, Becky Harper rose happy and exuberant. Friday night was a bittersweet catharsis. Today was the one day per month that she was allowed to spend with her granddaughter Tori Jo. She'd be able to hold and play with her little granddaughter all day long. Then the phone rang. It was Zeb. He cancelled the scheduled visitation. He claimed Tori Jo was sick.

Despair and grief washed over Becky, drowning all the joy and anticipation she felt when she woke up that morning.