Deadly Little Secrets Part 12

Barton's second-in-command was Captain Tuck Saunders. A police officer since 1991, Saunders's entire career had been spent in the employ of Hewitt PD. "Tuck did pretty much whatever the chief told him to do," says a former HPD employee.

The good news was that there wasn't a lot of serious crime in Hewitt. "We have a little bit of everything," Chief Barton would say. "But we don't get a lot of violent crime. Very few murders."

In the past, there had been questions about the department's performance. One case that stood out was the death of Joel Gibbs, who had died under mysterious circ.u.mstances ten years before Kari. In the Gibbs case, Joel's body was found with multiple stab wounds, including a slashed throat. Perhaps surprisingly, with those types of injuries, Hewitt PD officers initially a.s.sumed the death was a suicide and allowed the scene to be cleaned, even tearing out the bloodstained carpeting, destroying evidence, and hampering the investigation. Perhaps because of the lost evidence, no one was ever charged with the murder.

That first week after Kari's death, Bristol made her way over to Hewitt PD's offices and talked to Cooper, identifying herself as Kari's therapist. Tall and heavyset, a former coworker says that Cooper had a reputation for not liking to be questioned.

When she met with Cooper, the therapist recounted what Kari had said at their final session, including her suspicions about an affair and that Matt was trying to kill her. Relaying how Kari had then quickly laughed off her suspicions about Matt, Bristol concluded with her a.s.sessment of her patient, saying, "I saw Kari three days before she died, and I had no indication that she would commit suicide."

When Cooper appeared not to take the situation as seriously as she expected, Bristol prodded, "What're you waiting for? For Matt Baker to marry and kill a second wife?"

After hearing Bristol's account of her meeting with Cooper, Kay called the police department and talked with the sergeant on the phone. Like her friend, Kay got right to the point, telling Cooper: "I think Matt Baker had something to do with my niece's death."

As she would remember the conversation, the sergeant replied, "We don't have any evidence of foul play."

"Why wasn't an autopsy done?" Kay pressed.

"Judge Martin was notified and didn't order one," Cooper said.

"I don't understand why not," Kay said. "Kari wouldn't have killed herself."

"Well, it's an open case. If you have any more information, let me know," Cooper responded.

"That's it?" Kay asked.

"As I said, if you get any more information, call us and let us know."

Kay hung up, certain Cooper had no intention of investigating Kari's death.

That afternoon, Kay filled Nancy and Lindsey in on Bristol's unproductive visit with Cooper and her follow-up phone conversation. Frustrated, they weren't sure what to do. The only step they could take was one they dreaded. "We didn't know how to tell Linda," says Nancy. "We wanted to, but we knew it would hurt her. And we didn't have proof."

Hoping to gather more information before talking to Linda, Kay called the doctor Kari had seen on the Monday before her death, the one who'd written a prescription for an antidepressant. Kay's attempt to glean any insight, however, proved fruitless. The physician's nurse listened to the news of Kari's death sympathetically but refused to ask the doctor to come to the phone. Citing privacy laws, the nurse said, "The doctor won't be able to talk with you."

After she hung up, the nurse noted her conversation on Kari's chart and notified the doctor, who put in a call to Matt. In Kari's chart, the doctor wrote: "I spoke with Matt and expressed my prayers and thoughts. He states that she must have consumed a large amount of Unisom and mixed drinks, then she aspirated."

Days pa.s.sed, and the women talked often, yet Linda's sisters and niece remained uncertain about how to proceed. "Hewitt police hadn't done their job," Nancy would say later. "We wanted an investigation."

That same week, on April 12, Kari Baker's death certificate was printed, the cause of death listed as an overdose of Unisom sleep aid. The manner of death was a check in a box beside the word "Suicide." Where the form required information on how the death occurred, someone had typed: "overdose of over-the-counter Unisom. Left note." The death certificate was signed by Justice of the Peace Billy Martin.

Photo Insert

Kari Dulin and Matt Baker fell quickly in love, so much so that their parents feared that it could be a mistake.

Jim and Linda Dulin wanted to believe that Matt Baker was a good man.

Through it all, Barbara Baker stood by her son.

Kari on her wedding day surrounded by her mother and aunts, the women who would become Charlie's Angels. Left to right: Jennifer, Kay, Kari, Linda and Nancy.

They looked like the perfect family: the Reverend Matt Baker, Kensi, Ka.s.sidy, and Kari.

Friends say Kari doted on her girls, Kensi and Ka.s.sidy. At first both Baker girls looked happy and healthy, but that would change.

In her darkest times, Kari poured her grief into three journals, yearning for the return of all she'd lost.

The church members at Williams Creek erected a prayer garden in front of the church.

Kari named Grace, saying the child was by the grace of G.o.d: here, the Baker family in 2003: Grace, Matt, Kari, and Kensi.

Kari playing in the snow, with Kensi and Grace.

Kari with Kensi and Grace at a church function.

The prim, redbrick house on Crested b.u.t.te where the Bakers moved in 2005.

Kari and Jenny Monsey joking around in the church kitchen with balloon b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

At the girls' sporting events, Kari was always in the stands cheering them on.

In her Bible, Kari wrote a plea to G.o.d, asking him to protect her from harm.

The Unisom bottle and the suicide note.

Not long after his wife's death, Matt Baker, with Kensi and Grace.

In the fall of 2005, the music minister's daughter, Vanessa Bulls, began attending Crossroads.

Trial exhibit The limo for Kensi's birthday party, with Matt Baker and Vanessa Bulls, far right. Kensi, wearing tiara, and Grace, front row in front of her father.

Texas Ranger Matt Cawthon wanted to pursue the case but found little cooperation from the Hewitt Police Department.

Bill Johnston was a former U.S. prosecutor, one who'd stepped on toes. He knew how to investigate a case and who to get to help him.

Retired deputy U.S. Marshal Mike McNamara and retired undercover DPS agent John Bennett, who delved into Matt Baker's dark past.

Shannon Gamble, whose son thought the world of his teacher, Kari Baker. When Kari died, Shannon rallied others behind the cause.

Summer 2006, Vanessa Bulls in Matt Baker's new truck.

Trial exhibit The b.u.mper stickers: a campaign waged throughout Central Texas, as many fought for Justice for Kari.

Guy James Gray was a well-known Texas prosecutor who'd become a defense attorney. In the end, many wondered if the switch had sat well with him.

Abdon Rodriguez, an investigator in the McLennan County DA's office, knew how to lean on a source to get information.

Kari's daughters, Kensi and Grace, were all Jim and Linda Dulin had left of their daughter, and they feared for their safety.

The grand old lady, the McLennan County Courthouse, where the drama would unfold.

a.s.sistant DA Crawford Long took on the case with his fellow prosecutor Susan Shafer, after the McLennan County DA had turned his back on the Dulins for nearly four years.

Judge Ralph Strother controlled his courtroom, keeping a close eye on all involved.

Chapter 28.

E-mails expressing sympathy arrived for Matt from others within Waco's Baptist pastoral community in the weeks following Kari's death. Some of those who contacted him offered to help if he needed anyone to talk to about his grief. Nearly all said they were praying for Matt and the girls.

At Linda and Jim's house, all thoughts were on their granddaughters. When Matt mused that without Kari's salary he wouldn't be able to afford the rent on the Crested b.u.t.te house, Jim and Linda said he and the girls could stay with them for a while until he decided what to do. At first, Matt sounded as if he might agree. And when the girls heard, Kensi, smiling and excited, went through the house, picking out which bedroom would be hers and which would be Grace's. Despite Kensi's enthusiasm, Linda knew her granddaughters were hurting. When alone with Matt, she urged him to take them for grief counseling. They were young, they'd lost their mother, and Linda judged that they needed help. Matt, on the other hand, insisted both the girls were coping and saw no need.

Still feeling as if she were in shock, that first week would be a fog for Linda. One thing she would later remember was how many times she called Kari's cell phone to hear her dead daughter's voice. Todd and Jenny did the same. They were all surprised when within a week, Matt had deleted Kari's message and put up his own.

It was that Wednesday, the twelfth, just five days after Kari's death, when Matt returned to the Waco Center for Youth. When he walked in the door, his coworkers were shocked to see him, a.s.suming that he'd need more time off. They were even more surprised when they offered their condolences. Instead of simply saying thank you, Matt complained bitterly about his ex-wife. "I'm fine. It wasn't a marriage anyway," he said. "Kari was depressed, so we were just coexisting."

As he talked, he recounted how he'd found both his infant daughter and his wife not breathing in bed, that he'd put both on the floor and administered CPR. It seemed such an eerie similarity when he mentioned that Ka.s.sidy and Kari had even died at the same time of night. "When Ka.s.sidy died, I felt her spirit go through me," he told one woman. "It was like she put a small hand on my shoulder, and said, 'Hey, Dad, I'm all right.' "

On his other shoulder, Matt said he'd felt a heavier hand. "It was G.o.d, and he was saying, 'It's okay. She's with me now.' "

From that day on, others would have similar conversations with Matt, during which he'd talk resentfully of Kari, branding her a bad mother and wife, saying their marriage had ended years earlier. He even described her as a dark cloud that had hovered over the house and said that now that she was gone, the girls were happier. "Kari was never satisfied," Matt told one woman. "She always wanted more."

That wasn't all that was odd; Matt soon even looked different. It seemed as if overnight he'd changed his hair, gelled it up and spiked it, and replaced his khakis and b.u.t.ton-down shirts with new, hipper clothes.

Although he'd initially agreed with the Dulins' offer to move into their home, Matt and the girls remained in the house on Crested b.u.t.te. That first Friday evening, they drove to the Bulls's house in Troy, where Vanessa's parents served dinner and had an Easter egg hunt. At the table, Matt again talked about Kari's depression.

That same day, Good Friday, a friend of Kari's called Linda. During the conversation, the friend mentioned that she'd been at the grocery store shopping when she saw Matt with a pretty young woman and a baby, a little girl with blond hair. At that point, Linda had no idea who it could have been.

That Sunday, Matt Baker stood before the congregation at Crossroads officiating over Easter services. "People are surprised that I'm here," he acknowledged. "I'm still your pastor, and I still have a job to do. I'm here because G.o.d wants me here."

Some would accept him at his word, including Kari's friend Kimberly. Only later would she look back on Matt's quick return to the pulpit as strange. During his talk, he compared Kari to Jesus, predicting that his dead wife had made a "triumphant entry into heaven . . . Death could not control her."

While Matt remained dry-eyed, Linda and Jim wept. Although she didn't question that it was true, Linda couldn't understand how she'd failed to antic.i.p.ate her daughter's suicide. One thing she never considered was that Matt could be responsible. "In the eleven years he'd been a part of our family, we'd never even had a cross word," Linda would say later. "We really believed that for reasons we would never understand, Kari had decided she could no longer go on."

After services, Matt and the girls joined Linda and Jim at Nancy's father-in-law's ranch for a barbecue. Kensi and Grace were quieter than usual. "They appeared to be trying to make the most of it," Nancy says. "They were sad, but they were little girls, and they were trying to have a good time."

Nancy noticed that Matt ate well, going back for seconds. "It looks like Kari's dying didn't hurt his appet.i.te," she noted.

During the following week, the phone calls were frequent and long between Nancy, Kay, Jennifer, and Lindsey. The more they talked, the more certain they became that Matt had murdered Kari. They made lists of the reasons they believed he'd done it, a list that kept growing and included all they'd noticed over the years, including Matt's att.i.tude toward women. They noted the way Matt kept talking about Kari's being depressed when none of them saw that in her. Would a sick Kari, as Matt described her, ask him to pick up a movie at 11:15? They didn't believe it. And Kari would not have been in the bed nude; that they all agreed. It wasn't in her nature. At times they talked about the Unisom bottle. All of them knew Kari bought generic brands. Farther down on the list they added the things Kari had told Bristol, the typed, unsigned suicide note, and the note itself, the way it praised Matt and didn't even mention Kari's brother.

There were reasons, they agreed, but still they wondered, were they being fair? "We talked about how none of us liked Matt," says Nancy. "He was boorish, said the wrong things, and we didn't like the way he talked to women. But we didn't want the police to go after him. We just wanted them to investigate what happened to Kari."

Meanwhile, Linda and Jim, even in their grief, continued to try to support Kari's family. Although Adam had never particularly liked Matt, Kari's brother wrote his brother-in-law a note. In it, Adam told Matt that he cared for him and the girls, and that he hoped that he'd be able to continue to be a part of all their lives.

The week after Easter, Matt dropped in on Linda and Jim. The young widower said he'd been thinking and that he could now see that Kari had been suicidal "for a long time." The woman he described was one who returned from work to spend an hour or more in her bedroom unable to cope.

"What're you talking about?" Linda asked, perplexed. "Kari went to her bedroom to watch Oprah. She recorded the shows and watched them when she got home. After that, she went to the girls' events, like Kensi's swimming."

"No," Matt said. "Kari had really stopped taking care of the girls a long time ago. I was the one giving them their baths, fixing their hair, cooking the meals."

"Why are you saying these things?" Linda asked. "They're not true."

Despite her protests, Matt insisted, even insinuating that Linda, who talked to her daughter daily, didn't really know Kari. When Linda again brought up the subject of counseling for the girls, she was shocked by her son-in-law's reaction.

"Grace has already moved on," he said. "She's looking for a new mother."

"Are you crazy, Matt?" Linda asked. "This is a child who just lost her mother and doesn't know how to express her grief. What Grace and Kensi need is counseling."

Not bending, Matt insisted that the girls were adjusting well. Linda was horrified when he then said, "Grace told me, 'Now I can jump on the bed and Mommy can't get mad because she's dead.' "

After he left, Linda thought about what Matt had said, and she knew it wasn't true. She considered how different he looked, how eager he was to go on with his life. She thought about the woman who'd seen him in the grocery store with another woman. And Linda thought about Kari, trying to understand how she could have taken her own life.

Since their daughter's death, Jim had hovered protectively over Linda, and now she asked him a favor. She'd seen the suicide note that night, but couldn't even recall what it said. What she did remember was that Adam wasn't mentioned and that it was unusually short for her talkative daughter. "Go to the police department," she said. "Look at it, and tell me if it sounds like Kari wrote it."

Jim did, talking to Sergeant Cooper, who retrieved the note to show him. Jim read it, nodded, and said, "Thanks. We're satisfied."

At home, Linda asked Jim, "Did Kari write the note?"

"Yes," he said. "I think so."

"Okay then," Linda said with a nod. Later, she'd think about that day, and say, "We were trying to make ourselves believe that Kari had done this. We wanted to believe it."

Around April 13, Jenny Monsey called Matt and offered to help with the party Kari had been planning for Kensi's tenth birthday, scheduled for the twenty-first.

"Do you know who Vanessa Bulls is?" Matt asked.

"The music minister's daughter," Jenny answered.

"Yes," Matt said. "She's going to help, too."

"Okay," Jenny said, thinking it wasn't anything unusual.

That Friday, Jenny arrived at the house and found Vanessa and Matt decorating. Matt had already filled Jenny in on the plans. He had a limo to pick up the girls and Kensi's friends at school. Then they would drop Grace off with Linda and Jim and drive to the house for a slumber party. Jenny was supposed to stay overnight to help with the girls and be with them while he and Vanessa ran out to pick up breakfast the next morning.

When they finished decorating, Matt told Jenny, "Vanessa and I are going to pick up the girls in the limo."