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  Praise for Ann Rule and Her

  New York Times Bestsellers

  GREEN RIVER, RUNNING RED

  “[Rule] conveys the emotional truth of the Green River case.”

  —Los Angeles Times

  “Rule infuses her case study with a personally felt sense of urgency…she sketches the uniformly short, sad lives of the victims with poignancy. But her most riveting portrait is of Ridgway [the killer]….”

  —People

  “Perhaps Rule’s finest work to date…holds the reader in a firm grip.”

  —Statesman Journal

  “Rule gives full, heartbreaking emotional weight to what America’s most notorious serial killer truly wrought. A must for the author’s legions of fans.”

  —Booklist

  HEART FULL OF LIES

  “A convincing portrait of a meticulous criminal mind.”

  —The Washington Post

  “Rule knows a good drama when she finds one…. A real-life soap opera…. [It will] keep readers turning pages.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Fascinating and strange…. The sheer weight of [Ann Rule’s] investigative technique places her at the forefront of true-crime writers.”

  —Booklist

  EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE

  “Affecting, tense, and smart true-crime…. A case study of the classic American con man crossed with the more exotic strains of the sociopath.”

  —Washington Post Book World

  “Ann Rule has outdone herself….”

  —The Orlando Sentinel (FL)

  “Absolutely riveting…. Rule excels at painting psychologically perceptive portraits.”

  —Booklist

  …AND NEVER LET HER GO

  “Truly creepy…. This portrait of an evil prince needs no embellishment.”

  —People

  “[Rule] might have created her masterpiece.”

  —The Plain Dealer (Cleveland)

  “Even crime buffs who followed the case closely [will] gain new insights.”

  —The Orlando Sentinel (FL)

  “[Rule] tell[s] the sad story with authority, flair, and pace.”

  —The Washington Post

  BITTER HARVEST

  “A must-read story of the ’90s American dream turned, tragically, to self-absorbed ashes.”

  —People

  “Impossible to put down…. A tour de force.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  KISS ME, KILL ME

  AND OTHER TRUE CASES

  ANN RULE’S CRIME FILES: VOL. 9

  “A haunting collection…about love and obsession turned deadly…. As compelling as a good novel.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  LAST DANCE, LAST CHANCE

  AND OTHER TRUE CASES

  ANN RULE’S CRIME FILES: VOL. 8

  “Spine-tingling…. Rule’s portrait of Dr. Anthony Pignataro, a diabolical cosmetic surgeon, could win a place in any insomniac’s heart.”

  —Barnesandnoble.com

  EMPTY PROMISES

  AND OTHER TRUE CASES

  ANN RULE’S CRIME FILES: VOL. 7

  “Fascinating, unsettling tales…. Among the very small group of top-notch true-crime writers, Rule just may be the best of the bunch.”

  —Booklist

  A RAGE TO KILL

  AND OTHER TRUE CASES

  ANN RULE’S CRIME FILES: VOL. 6

  “Gripping tales…. Fans of true crime know they can rely on Ann Rule to deliver the dead-level best.”

  —The Hartford Courant (CT)

  Books by Ann Rule

  Green River, Running Red

  Heart Full of Lies

  Every Breath You Take

  …And Never Let Her Go

  Bitter Harvest

  Dead by Sunset

  Everything She Ever Wanted

  If You Really Loved Me

  The Stranger Beside Me

  Possession

  Small Sacrifices

  Ann Rule’s Crime Files:

  Vol.10: Worth More Dead and Other True Cases

  Vol. 9: Kiss Me, Kill Me and Other True Cases

  Vol. 8: Last Dance, Last Chance and Other True Cases

  Vol. 7: Empty Promises and Other True Cases

  Vol. 6: A Rage to Kill and Other True Cases

  Vol. 5: The End of the Dream and Other True Cases

  Vol. 4: In the Name of Love and Other True Cases

  Vol. 3: A Fever in the Heart and Other True Cases

  Vol. 2: You Belong to Me and Other True Cases

  Vol. 1: A Rose for Her Grave and Other True Cases

  Without Pity: Ann Rule’s Most Dangerous Killers

  The I-5 Killer

  The Want-Ad Killer

  Lust Killer

  An Original Publication of POCKET BOOKS

  POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  Copyright © 2005 by Ann Rule

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  eISBN-10: 1-4165-1639-5

  eISBN-13: 978-1-4165-1639-2

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  To my friends in the “Sporadic but Loyal Union Meeting Lunch and Gossip Club”: Gerry Hay, Shirley Jackson, Rosalie Foster, Donna Anders, and the late Ione Kniskern who is truly missed. These great women have survived and triumphed over many vicissitudes of life, all the while doing more manuscript reading and book buying than any friends I have!

  Acknowledgments

  There were dozens of people who led me through their personal memories of the circumstances and details involved in the five cases in this book. I was both impressed and grateful for their crystalline recall. There are some individuals who wish to remain anonymous because they are both private and modest people. Many thanks to you all, and thank you to the Internet, a miraculous tool for authors who must follow slender threads back into the past histories of victims, suspects, and investigators. I could never have imagined such a reSource might one day exist.

  “Worth More Dead”: Hank Gruber, Joe Sanford, J.K., Ron L. Edwards, Greg Meakin, Doug Hudson, Myrle Carner, P.K., Doug Wright, Jim Harris, Lieutenant Lewis Olan, Chris Casad, Steve Sherman, Ginger Arnold and the Staff of the Kitsap County District Attorney’s Office, Rudy Sutlovich, Sue Paulson, Mike S.

  “It’s Really Weird Looking at My Own Grave”: Kathy Casey, Stacy C., Chuck Wright, Bob LaMoria, Frank Chase, and Cheryl.

  “Old Man’s Darling”: Captain Joseph Padilla, Detective Betty Smith, Kirk Mitchell, Sean Kelly, Howard Pankratz, George Merritt (Denver Post) Lisa Ryckman, Brian Crecente, Sarah Huntley (Rocky Mountain News).

  “All for Nothing”: Cindy Versdahl, Lee Yates, Lucas Fiorante, KOMO-TV’s Northwest Afternoon, Robert Shangle, Verne Shangle, David Martin, and Paul R. and Ellen Martin.

  “A Desperate Housewife”: Denise and Gary Jannusche, Linda and John Gunderson, Patricia Eakes, John Henry Browne, and Antoinette Olsen.

  With special thanks to Patty and Gary Guite of AAA Liquidating, Kevin Wagner, Matt Parker, and Jeremiah Hanna-Cruz.

  There is no way I could turn out even one book without the team that stands behind me: Louise Burke, my editor Mitchell Ivers, Josh Martino, Felice Javit, Donna O’Neill, Victor Cataldo, and Steve Llano.

  To my agents of so many years now that none of us wants to admit just how many: Joan and Joe Foley of The Foley Agency, and my th
eatrical agent, Ron Bernstein of International Creative Management.

  Contents

  Preface

  Worth More Dead

  Chatper 1

  Chatper 2

  Chatper 3

  Chatper 4

  Chatper 5

  Chatper 6

  Chatper 7

  Chatper 8

  Chatper 9

  Chatper 10

  Chatper 11

  Chatper 12

  Chatper 13

  Chatper 14

  Chatper 15

  Chatper 16

  Chatper 17

  Chatper 18

  Chatper 19

  Chatper 20

  Chatper 21

  Chatper 22

  Chatper 23

  “It’s Really Weird Looking at My Own Grave”

  Old Man’s Darling

  Chatper 1

  Chatper 2

  All for Nothing

  A Desperate Housewife

  Photos

  Preface

  Human life is very precious to most of us; nothing is as valuable as drawing in breath and feeling the reassuring beat of our hearts. Most of us feel the same about the lives of other creatures, from fellow humans to animals, and this often includes even bugs’ small lives. Some people eat meat but would never think of hunting wild creatures. Some are vegetarians or vegans. The majority of us feel sad and even cry when we hear of disasters halfway around the world in which hundreds of people we never knew have perished. This ability to empathize—to identify with the pain of others—is the part of us that makes us human.

  Yet there are other people who feel no sorrow or empathy when someone else suffers or dies. When they want something, the end justifies the means. Their motivation is usually financial gain or sexual conquest, but sometimes they act out of a need for revenge. If they look back at all on the death of someone who got in their way, it is without regret or guilt. With those who have no conscience and no empathy, there are no lingering doubts.

  Despite my having written about a thousand or more killers, the ability to understand those without conscience is, for me, the most elusive. I can deal with it intellectually—but not emotionally.

  The title of this book came to me full-blown, almost in a nightmare: Worth More Dead. As disturbing as it is to accept that these murderers believed their victims were, indeed, more valuable to them dead than alive, I know that it is true.

  The first case history is about a man I encountered in a courtroom many years ago and never expected to hear about again. That he kept bouncing back into the headlines amazed me. He may have been smarter than many cold-blooded killers, or he may only have been more devious than most. He was always circumspect about choosing someone else to blame. Had he held the death weapons himself? That was always the question, but I think I may have finally answered it.

  “It’s Really Weird Looking at My Own Grave” is the story of a serial killer and rapist who believed that if his victims were dead, they could not come back to identify him. Fortunately, some of them were smarter than he was.

  “Old Man’s Darling” is a Colorado case, curious to ponder. The woman involved looked like an action-movie heroine, but her obsessions didn’t lend themselves to a romantic last chapter. How dare her aging lover cast her aside? Furious and desperate, she took action, and a terrible finale ensued.

  “All for Nothing” is one of the most shocking cases I’ve ever written about, and my longtime readers know that that’s saying a great deal. Was it the result of a love triangle ripped apart? Or was it simply the inevitable ending to the erotic games one brilliant woman played with the men she delighted in enticing? She didn’t realize that one man was playing for keeps.

  All of these murderers had what they considered a good reason to want their victims dead—be it financial or emotional—and the last case in this book, “A Desperate Housewife,” seems to have been fueled by both emotions. It is one of the saddest I’ve ever written about, although certainly none of the cases I cover are cheerful. What happened was so unnecessary, so selfish, and it will probably haunt you as it has me.

  Worth More Dead

  This case or, rather, series of cases, defies categorizing. The true culprit behind a number of fatal, near-fatal, cruel, and serious felonies wasn’t easy to spot. He���or she —was either really smart or really dumb. But then I’ve run across a number of killers who scored near genius in IQ tests but had no sense of how they appeared to others. And no common sense at all. Was this killer crazy? Probably not. Were his intricate plots brilliant and well designed? Sometimes. But sometimes not.

  With every public document about this case that I have read over the last twenty-five years, I’ve become more incredulous. If the events weren’t so tragic, many of them would be funny, anecdotes suitable for “The World’s Dumbest Criminals.”

  Still, there isn’t anything humorous about violent death, betrayal, and dark, emotional games designed to break hearts.

  I don’t even know where to start explaining this killer, so I think I’ll jump in the middle and try to bring all the edges together. That way, my readers won’t ask, “What did you say?” as did a number of mystified judges when attorneys tried to detail the myriad felonies.

  When even judges shake their heads in disbelief, you know you’re dealing with a tangled tale.

  1

  Summer, 1980

  For servicemen, there is good duty and bad duty. They are at the mercy of superiors who dispatch them around the globe, but few navy men would deny the many benefits of being stationed at the Whidbey Island Naval Air Station in Oak Harbor, Washington. There is also a U.S. Marine detachment stationed on the island. With Deception Pass to the west and Skagit Bay to the east, the setting is idyllic, a virtual vacation spot. Sailors—civilian and navy alike—anchor pleasure craft in Oak Harbor, and it has a small-town atmosphere: friendly, welcoming. Like most small communities, there are few secrets. Neighbors know neighbors’ business, and gossip flourishes. Love triangles are rarely as clandestine as the participants believe they are. Most sexual straying there is uneventful, but the scandal and shock waves that reverberated throughout Oak Harbor in mid-July 1980 were of a magnitude seldom seen. When the dust settled, those involved and onlookers hoped devoutly that nothing like it would happen ever again.

  Because of what happened shortly after ten PM on that sultry Sunday night of July 13, 1980, four lives that had come together from widely scattered parts of the world were irrevocably changed. One man died instantly in a barrage of bullets from a .357 Magnum. The other three principals would tell divergent stories during a lengthy trial in Judge H. Joseph Coleman’s courtroom in Seattle as the 1980 Christmas season approached. There was no question of holding the trial in Island County; there had been too much pretrial publicity, and there probably wasn’t a citizen in the whole county who hadn’t heard of the murder of Lieutenant Commander Dennis Archer.

  I attended that trial. Much of the convoluted narrative that follows is either directly from court records or from my conversations with close associates of the principals and from detectives’ precise recall. Some of it is from my own observation.

  The testimony that was elicited in Judge Coleman’s courtroom was so explosive that spectators lined up for hours to get in, content to sit packed into the rows of hard benches in the overheated room, eager to listen to the almost unbelievable sequence of events that led up to the brutal slaying of the high-ranking naval officer.

  One of the defendants on charges of first-degree murder and conspiracy was Dennis Archer’s widow, Maria Elena, 32, an exquisitely beautiful woman of petite stature. She could not have been more than five feet tall, and she wore her long dark hair pulled back from her face and loosely braided in shining waves. Once released from its braids, her hair would make a shimmering cascade reaching below her waist. She didn’t look like a cold-blooded murderess. Her voice was soft and her clothing was feminine and demure.

  But then, most murderers
don’t look the part.

  The second defendant was a man Maria claimed she had never met. He was, she said, a complete stranger to her. His name was Steven Guidry. He was 26, a short man with a slight build, rather attractive with his sideburns and handlebar mustache. Guidry had come to Oak Harbor from his home outside New Orleans on the fatal weekend Dennis Archer was killed. But he had stayed a very brief time, unusual after traveling such a distance.

  The third figure in an alleged plot to kill Maria’s husband was not on trial. He would be a witness, but he had already confessed to conspiracy to commit murder. He was Roland Pitre, 27, and was also originally from Cajun country near New Orleans. Pitre was a Marine Corps staff sergeant and Maria’s admitted ex-lover. To save himself, he had agreed to turn state’s evidence and promised to take the witness stand to bolster the prosecution’s case.

  Roland Augustin Pitre Jr. was a good-looking man. He looked every inch the Marine, although he no longer wore the uniform. He wasn’t much over five feet ten inches tall, but he was extremely muscular. He carried himself as a longtime military man is expected to. His part in this puzzling murder was clouded. Was it possible that he was admitting guilt to protect someone else? No one doubted that he and Maria Archer had enjoyed a consuming and passionate affair so intense, both of their marriages had been teetering on the edge of divorce. Murder made divorce unnecessary.

  Just what part Roland Pitre might have played in Archer’s murder no one but the investigators and the attorneys yet knew.

  What happened to make this man turn on both the woman he swore he loved and the man who had been his best friend since their boyhood? The first overt betrayal on Pitre’s part proved to be only the onset of a quarter of a century’s worth of crimes to come, tumbling down one after the other until justice began to seem not only blind but deaf, too.