To Die For (43 page)

Dr. Rogers had trouble determining the degree to which Dana's drinking affected her when the offenses were committed because Dana gave contradictory accounts, sometimes grossly exaggerating and sometimes minimizing her alcohol intake. Dr. Rogers suggested that Dana could have consumed alcohol when the offenses were committed, which would have heightened her impulsiveness, irritability and inclination to project blame. Dr. Rogers also had difficulty sorting out the conflicting and contradictory information Dana gave about her suicidal thoughts in her personal history to her and the other psychiatrists, and also to jail psychologists. None of Dana's friends—including her best friend—and no family members recalled any suicide attempts or threats.

Dr. Rogers concluded by saying that her pattern of crimes was consistent with a serial killer, albeit a very unusual one with three clear psychological triggers: a desire for money, a desire for power and domination, and displaced family anger.

Simple maternal hatred didn't fully explain Dana's homicidal rage. She suggested taking a longer look at Dana's childhood pattern of hurting people when she felt humiliated or didn't get the attention she felt she deserved. Cutting holes in her mother's dress, wetting her half-brother's bed and trashing her teacher's classroom involved “violence” toward inanimate objects, and reflected choices she made as a child.

“These childhood ‘crimes' parallel her adult crimes to a greater degree than the thefts [of money] from her mother … These incidents of acting out include similar psychological elements as these crimes, of feeling put down and enraged over loss of face, of feeling humiliated…” Dr. Rogers noted that individuals who face far more severe childhood deprivations and abuse also become enraged, but do not kill people. In addition, the vast majority of truly mentally ill people do not kill.

Rather than looking at problems with her mother, Dr. Rogers suggests looking at Dana's bank balance at the times of the murders. “Spending money was one of the ways Dana Gray habitually dealt with the void of her unmet emotional deficits and narcissistic need to fulfill herself through possessions. She reported a childhood of both being spoiled and also financial deprivation. As an adult, she had become used to buying what she wanted.” Even after she became unemployed, she purchased golf lessons, bought a $1,000 mountain bike, redecorated her home, placed Jason in a private preschool and continued with her hair and manicuring appointments.

Ultimately, it wasn't money or unresolved maternal issues that motivated Dana to kill. Although Dana hit the stores within minutes of her crimes, shopping wasn't the sole or even the primary goal in each crime. Dana's satisfaction, Dr. Rogers found, came from domination, power, and control over her victims.

*   *   *

It makes sense, Rich Bentley thought after reading Dr. Rogers' report.

Given the multiple modes of death and the prolonged struggles with the victims, Dana was a classic power killer who enjoyed watching her victims suffer as she extinguished them, like a child making a bug squirm under a magnifying glass. After years as a nurse, Dana had become desensitized to the sight of blood and had no doubt seen patients die. What Bentley couldn't fathom was how she left these very bloody, very messy crime scenes and went shopping for hours without so much as a speck of blood on her, or at least none that people noticed.

As the months rolled by, he had watched the pile of letters to and from Dana pile up in his office. He had read through a few of them and had discerned a few that might be useful in showing that Dana was not insane. Now he was accumulating letters from the victims' families. They wanted Dana brought to justice. Bentley sympathized with them. He hoped that the fusillade of letters to the judge would do some good. When he had gotten another call from the Beebe family weeks before, they'd suggested writing a letter and he agreed, thinking it could help move things along if the judge knew that they, too, were waiting for their day in court.

Bentley picked up the bundle of letters from the Beebes, thinking it was tragic that Dana was so wrapped up in herself that she chose to hurt truly innocent victims that were so cherished by their families.

“I was always glad to bring my friends home, when I was a child, because I was so proud of my mother,” wrote Julia Whitcombe:

She was pretty and funny and warm, and a better cook than anyone else's mother. One of my friends recently told me how my mother was the only person who made her feel pretty as a child. She made our clothes, and sometimes fashioned the patterns as well.

Her family was my mother's principal preoccupation … but she had other interests. She could make anything grow in her garden, she knew who'd won the latest golf tournament, the football, baseball or basketball game. She was up to date on the news and informed about local and national concerns. Nobody made a better pie. Her quilts were lovely. Music and friendship with Lou Dormand filled much of her life in recent times, as did caring for the most pampered cat this side of the Mississippi.

Our entertainment consisted almost entirely of family visits to all the sisters and grandmothers on both sides of the family. In the American Legion Hall and the Church, we had pot luck dinners, went to the dances and sang, sang, sang. Mother's voice, a sweet soprano, sings on in my memory. She always sang to us—silly songs, old songs. I sing them now to my grandchildren.

As my sister and I went through the house after Mother was killed, we encountered little pieces of paper, in her handwriting, of quotes or maxims that had been meaningful to her. I liked this one, “They say ‘don't look back when you get old' but I spend a lot of time doing it anyway. Maybe if I'd known that when I was young, I'd done a lot of exciting things so I'd have better old lady dreams.”

I wish her old lady dreams had not ended in a nightmare.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 1998 10:30 A.M.

“Miss Gray, I'm going go over the charges. If you have any questions, please ask.”

Judge Dennis Myers looked down from the bench at the accused killer in the blue jumpsuit, huddled with her lawyer. During her stay in jail, Dana's weight had ballooned upwards of fifty pounds. Her brown hair was now completely gray, the curls just brushing her shoulders. The gallery was half-filled with weeping family members holding hands in the front row. Behind them were an assortment of reporters and photographers.

“Your attorney has indicated that you wish to withdraw your plea of not guilty by reason of insanity and enter a plea of guilty to each of the charges in accordance with a plea agreement. In exchange for your plea of guilty, the district attorney will recommend a sentence of life in prison without possibility of parole. Is that your understanding?”

Dana nodded her head and said, “Yes.” It was barely audible.

“In count one, you are charged with Penal Code Section 187, the willful, deliberate and premeditated murder of a human being, to wit, June Roberts. To count one, how do you plead?”

The courtroom was pin-drop silent.

“Guilty.”

The relatives of June Roberts let out a sigh. Their hands were now clasped in a human chain across the front row, their heads bowed. Van Owen, his knuckles white from grasping his wife's hand, lifted his tear-stained face heavenward. As the judge carefully read each count, the victims sobbed silently, releasing emotions they had been holding back for years.

Dana's trial had been scheduled to begin September 8. But one week before, Stuart Sachs had called Rich Bentley and told him that Dana wanted to plead guilty to everything in exchange for life in prison without parole. The prosecution would be spared the expense and the victims the emotional trauma of a trial. Dana would avoid rolling the dice before a jury, which could send her to Death Row. Each side threw in a sweetener. Bentley agreed that he would not file the Norma Davis homicide against Dana. Sachs agreed that Dana would waive her appellate rights, meaning that she would forfeit her right to appeal any aspect of the case. That meant the case would be over for good. Bentley suspected the defense might have been motivated to take a plea by the Dora Buenrostro trial. That August, Riverside County jurors convicted the 39-year-old woman of killing her own children, rejected an insanity defense and sent her to Death Row. She was the first woman sentenced to die from Riverside County. Bentley didn't know how much of an effect it had on a decision to offer a plea agreement, but he was looking at ending the case on the eve of trial.

Bentley had called the relatives and told them about the offer in order to get some feedback, and found them grateful that Dana would finally admit her crimes. For them, it would be a relief to end the case. In a meeting with District Attorney Grover Trask, Bentley and Sachs, they weighed the support from the relatives' families with the question of whether Riverside County jurors would recommend a death verdict for Dana, who had lived a crime-free life until the murders. Trask had agreed to accept Sachs' plea bargain.

Just a few feet away, Dana sat at the counsel table with her back to the grieving relatives, the hard, metal chain wrapped around her hips and binding her ankles as three deputies stood watch. As the victims' families silently sobbed, Dana used her little girl voice, saying the same word over and over again:

“Guilty.”

*   *   *

“Hey, Joe, we had your girl in here today,” the bailiff squawked over the police radio.

“What're you talking about?” said Greco, cruising in his patrol car.

“Didn't you handle the Dana Gray case?”

“Yeah, that was my case.”

“She pleaded guilty this morning. Good job.”

Greco was silent for a moment. Now working for the Riverside Sheriff's Department, he was on routine patrol in Moreno Valley, a suburb of Riverside County. Greco used to work patrol with Dave Kirkendall until he was transferred and became a bailiff in Judge Myers' courtroom. When Kirkendall saw Dana pleading guilty, he had the dispatcher patch him through to Greco in his patrol car. Greco couldn't believe that no one had told him that Dana was going to take a plea. He would have wanted to be there.

“OK,” Greco said. “Thanks.”

It was over. No fanfare, no trial, no testimony, no tense moments waiting for the jury's verdict. On one hand, it was anti-climactic, but on the other, it felt satisfying that the case was over. Greco slid the radio mic into its slot and drove to the nearest satellite police station, where he used a land line to call Bentley, who filled him in on the plea. Bentley told him about Sachs' offer to plead to everything in exchange for LWOP. The DA's office gave up charges for Norma's murder and the defense gave up the right to appeal. Bentley said it all happened pretty quick. Greco was so excited, he had to go tell someone. He felt like celebrating. He drove back to his station and told his sergeant and they talked about the case and some of the difficulties he had had with the investigation. Greco left after a few minutes to go back to work. While he felt happy and satisfied, a part of him felt hollow.

Greco got back into his patrol car to think. Over the years, bits and pieces of the case had always been in the back of his mind. What nagged him the most was Dora's death. Could he have arrested Dana any sooner? If they had arrested Dana sooner, would Dora still be alive? Could he have moved any faster? He had been haunted by Dora's murder and felt partially responsible for her death, replaying the events of that day over and over again in his mind, starting with Jeri's phone call and ending with Dana's arrest, trying to see if he could have done anything differently. But after looking at the timelines, he realized that by the time he got off the phone with Jeri, Dana was gone. Even if he had left his office at the Perris station and driven straight to Dana's house, she would not have been there anyway. He knew it was no comfort to Dora's relatives, but at least Dana did not kill anyone else and would never have the opportunity to hurt anyone again.

Then there was Norma's murder. Greco never understood why Bentley didn't file murder charges against Dana. There was never any question about who killed Norma. It wasn't a whodunit. But since the case was never filed, Dana was never formally held to answer for that charge, leaving Norma's death in a void. Greco considered Dana's acceptance of the plea agreement a tacit acceptance of the killing. Besides, if Dana wasn't responsible for Norma's murder, why was it made a condition of the plea bargain? Agreeing not to file charges for Norma's murder was the prosecution's only concession in the plea bargain, and by Greco's reasoning, Dana had admitted it.

Greco's thoughts wound toward the victims and the domino effect the case had had on everyone associated with it. When Norma died, it sent Jeri's daughter, Susie, over the edge. Dana could never legally be held responsible for Susie's death, but even Jeri thought that the person who killed Norma also killed Susie. He heard that Alice Williams, Norma's friend, had passed away several months after Norma's death. Greco knew that she had been terribly shaken by Norma's death. It didn't seem fair that any of the victims, from Norma to Dora to Alice to Susie, had to die like that. Greco wondered about Dora's beau, Louis Dormand. How many others were there? Was Dorinda ever able to put this behind her? What about the grief-stricken, sleepless nights that relatives and friends of the victims had to endure for the rest of their lives? Dana's plea was one small comfort, but it could never replace what she took from them forever. Profound, prolonged suffering doesn't grab headlines like a quick murder.

Now it was over. Dana was not going to walk away from this and she would never get out to hurt anyone else. Greco felt satisfied that he was able to be part of it, but he knew he would never stop wondering if he could have done more or solved the case sooner.

*   *   *

A few months later, Greco paid a visit to Russell and Jeri to see how they were doing. Russell looked much better. The last time Greco had seen him, he was tense, tired and weak. Now he was cordial and calm and seemed optimistic, and offered Greco a drink. Dana's plea was well behind them and she was already in prison serving her life sentence. Even though Russell still cursed Bentley, he seemed happy about the plea bargain and understood that Dana would be behind bars forever.