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Authors: Don Lasseter

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BOOK: Date With the Devil
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Mahler, Stacy said, had been quite generous with her. “We used to go get our hair styled together. I would get a five-hundred-dollar styling and we'd have our nails done. It was so nice having a guy you could run around with and do things like that.”
His generosity went a little too far with one gift David presented to Stacy. She laughed with embarrassment when speaking of it. “He decided he wanted to get me this certain toy. It was before Rudy Giuliani put a crackdown on all this stuff, and David bought this ‘machinery.' I didn't want anything to do with it. I didn't want it, so he decided to take it back to the store. Picture him, getting on the subway with it. He didn't wrap it. Everybody could see, and he didn't care. The store was closed at first, and he had to carry it all over town. He finally goes there, handed it over, and said, ‘She wore it out.' Talk about making me blush.”
A more pleasant recollection Stacy chose to talk about regarded another remarkable coincidence. “One time we went to the top of the Empire State Building when he was showing me all of the sights. You go up elevators to a certain point and then get in line for another ride to the top. We were in line and struck up a conversation with another couple. They were tourists and we asked where they were visiting from. One of them said, ‘Oh, a little place in California you've never heard of, I'm sure.' I said, ‘Well, try me.' They said, ‘Visalia.' I couldn't believe it. He worked for someone I went to high school with. So that was kind of fun.”
When the first Christmas drew near, David took Stacy to spend the holiday with her parents. “That was the first time he met them. He and my dad got along handsomely. The next year, we spent Thanksgiving with them. We would alternate being with his parents for one holiday and with mine the next holiday, and then reverse them the following year. His mother was a wonderful woman, and his dad is extremely strong-willed. I really liked his stepmother too, who is a very nice woman.”
One particular aspect of Stacy's relationship with David's father, an expert in commodity trading, delighted her. “He would do all this analyzing of stocks, and then I would pick one at random, and mine almost always outperformed his.”
Relationships between Stacy and David's family also extended to his sisters. “Beth was wonderful. Alice, I didn't know that well.” Asked if Mahler had conflicts with them, Stacy could only grimace and say, “Isn't there always issues between siblings?”
Even if David at first seemed “charismatic” to Stacy, she could see a few conflicting characteristics. “He had a good sense of humor, but sometimes it didn't show. You would say something off the cuff that you thought was funny and he wouldn't crack a smile. He really wasn't much of a joke teller.” In trying to identify what Mahler did laugh at, Stacy couldn't think of anything. She rationalized, “Sometimes his idea of comedy would go over other people's heads.” She cited an incident in which they were playing Monopoly with some relatives. “The game requires some intelligence and they were playing like yo-yos. David was just running the board and they didn't even get what he was doing. He and I were on the same page and we were just cracking up. In the conversation, the subject of capitalism came up, and they had no idea what we were talking about. That's the whole concept of Monopoly. I guess they took offense. The woman said to me, ‘You just wait. I know you are laughing at me, but someday you will get yours.'” Describing this, Stacy's face turned grim. Obviously reflecting on events that would change her life, she said, “That was terribly ironic.”
After Stacy lived with Mahler most of a two-year period, during which misunderstandings and arguments became more frequent, she began visiting her family in Visalia more often, and staying there for longer periods of time. Asked if David lost his temper easily, Stacy hesitated. She thought about it and said, “He used to be an absolutely terrific person.”
“Did you see that gradually change?”
“Yes.”
To the suggestion that something deep inside David drove him to undergo drastic changes, Stacy said, “We all blame circumstances and different people for stuff in our lives. But then, you just get over it. There were some things he didn't get over, and it breaks my heart. I wish I could have been the person who could help him get through all of that. But it's hard to pinpoint exactly what it was.”
A different twist on Mahler's interests in women became apparent to Stacy, something she had not previously recognized. He seemed to be fascinated with strippers. At least he made no attempt to hide it, and even invited Stacy to accompany him to the joints where dancers disrobed. “Back East, I went to a few strip clubs with him. I thought they were kind of funny.”
Other cracks in the relationship planted seeds of doubt in Stacy's mind. She recalled, “We went for a drive one time and he showed me their old house from when his parents were still married. When his grandmother passed away, I was there for her wake, and David took that really hard.” It puzzled Stacy when she learned the grandmother had lived right across the street from their apartment—yet she had never met the woman.
Regarding Mahler's use of alcohol or other stimulants, Stacy took a noncommittal stance. “I don't partake in any of that.” Asked again, she replied, “I saw a lot of things.”
Another incident set a pattern that Mahler would repeat too often. “I went to the city with David to attend the wedding of one of his friends. Both of us dressed formally. I wore a long black gown, with gloves up past the elbows, and had my hair done up perfectly. It was a beautiful ceremony. But at a gathering afterward, he took me to a joint with a band, and the place was filled with cigarette smoke. I can't stand that vile smell and we got into an argument. He said some hurtful things and then abandoned me. There I was in New York City, in midwinter, with very little money and no warm clothing. I had planned to go to Visalia afterward and had my plane ticket, but no transportation to the airport. I finally talked a cabdriver, who was from India or Iran or somewhere like that, into giving me a ride to the airport.”
The tendency for Mahler to take Stacy somewhere and abandon her after a dispute became a recurring theme. “He took me to New Jersey and Manhattan other times and just stranded me.” The last time he deserted her nearly ended the relationship.
It happened in 2000, on what should have been a romantic, festive vacation in Hawaii. Before departure from New York, a nasty argument between David and Stacy erupted. He contacted the airline and changed the name on her reservations, giving it to one of his male pals, who lived in Hermosa Beach, California. As usual, he and Stacy were able to patch up their differences, and he bought another ticket for her. In Hawaii, they checked in at a luxury hotel, where the buddy also stayed. Another furious quarrel ensued, and Mahler departed with his friend, leaving Stacy stranded with no return ticket. “I had to wire my dad for money so I could go home. All I know is this was not the romantic Hawaii trip we had planned.”
While she continued to spend time with David Mahler, Stacy no longer lived with him in New Jersey. Instead, she resumed the original pattern of flying back and forth from California to the East Coast, spending some time with him, then returning home. Their arguments increased in frequency and volatility. If friends and relatives wondered why she didn't just end the relationship, they didn't understand the power love holds for a woman.
Ruminating about that period in her life, Stacy tried to pinpoint the causes of their fights. Was he jealous? “That was one of the problems. He was jealous because he thought I was seeing other guys, but I really wasn't. We couldn't seem to talk anything out and try to understand. I didn't approve of a lot of things, so I would just wind up saying, ‘Well, just forget about it.'”
By 2001, Mahler's life in New Jersey had grown difficult. Rumors abounded of connections with Mob money, of shady deals, and indebtedness to the wrong people. He felt restless and discontented.
A law enforcement investigator would later say, “He needed to get away from New Jersey because he was on the run. An investigation was under way for some major frauds. A buddy of his was hooked into the Gambino crime family. He was the treasurer of an alleged corporation and owed them some money. I talked to some of the people involved, but they weren't willing to say very much. New York cops investigated and uncovered more than four hundred grand in fraud. The so-called corporation probably was in debt for more. I think Mahler was in it pretty deep. But there is no solid evidence.”
Looking to leave town, Mahler began thinking of a move to the Golden State. Why not give Hollywood a try? Wouldn't it be great to live among filmdom's glitterati, maybe in the pattern of
Playboy
magnate Hugh Hefner? How much fun would it be to have beautiful starlets surrounding you, and maybe even dabble in film production?
Even though women would probably be plentiful in the freewheeling Hollywood social scene, the move would also make it easier to see Stacy more often. Instead of making an expensive five-hour plane trip, she could drive from Visalia in about three hours and stay overnight or even a few days. Perhaps they could even live together again.
At last, a couple of years into the new millennium, David Mahler made the decision to go West. He didn't know it yet, but in California, he would eventually meet the other woman who had lived in Newport Beach, and who would have a profound impact on his life.
C
HAPTER
7
F
ROM
P
ARADISE
TO
P
ORNOGRAPHY
Kristin Baldwin, still known then as Kristin Means, graduated from Westlake Village High School in 1987. She had reached her full height, five-five, and weighed about 115 pounds. With blond hair and green eyes, she easily attracted the attention of men, but she wasn't ready yet for any serious entanglements.
Eager to sprout wings and fly on her own, she moved from the home her stepfather had provided and migrated about eighty miles south to Orange County. With a couple of girlfriends, Kristin found an apartment in Newport Beach. And just as Stacy Tipton had done, Kristin enrolled at Orange Coast College in neighboring Costa Mesa. They may even have crossed paths on campus. Instead of trying to obtain a car, Kristin used a bicycle, pedaling to classes at school, to the beach, and to work.
Peter Means later spoke of it. “She moved down there because she loved the beach. The girls she lived with, who seemed to rotate quite frequently, were there just to enjoy the party life. Six or eight girls piled into a four-bedroom place. They supported themselves as waitresses in the numerous restaurants that line the harbor. Kristin worked too, took classes, and spent as much time as she could sunning on the sand. It was a typical lifestyle for fun-loving young women, eighteen or twenty years old.”
If Kristin had thought of breaking into the entertainment industry, as her sister Robin and Jennifer Gootsan mentioned, Peter Means didn't think she ever set earnest goals in that direction. “She never really indicated a serious desire to get into show business. But like most girls, she thought it looked glamorous and easy. If you hit it right and become a star, you can make a lot of money. But as we know, it's a tough business to break into, and if you don't know people who can help, success isn't very likely. It is nepotism and who you know. I think she liked the idea, but never really attempted it. She was in a couple of high-school plays, but never did any serious acting. For her, it was more of a dream than a real goal.”
After about eighteen months, Kristin dropped out of college, preferring to work full-time. With her good looks and gregarious personality, tips from restaurant patrons came easily and generously. The money, surfing, tanning, and social activities didn't allow enough time for stuffy classrooms. She kept in contact with her three siblings, Robin, Rick, and Stephanie. Robin had stayed in the San Fernando Valley area to work, while Stephanie continued her education. Rick had found a niche in the food-service business, specializing as a banquet captain. In January 1991, he moved to Hawaii, the Big Island, and worked steadily in hotel dining rooms.
“I'm the one,” Rick later stated, “who convinced Kristin to move over there. I was talking to her on the phone and said, ‘You would love it. Come on over. You will really dig it. With your experience, you can get a job in a restaurant.'” Kristin followed Rick's advice in the spring of 1991. She first stayed with Julie Henson, a woman who would become their sister-in-law when her brother married Robin. Julie had been a classmate of Rick and Robin's at Westlake High School.
Kristin decided that the island of Maui offered the best opportunities to earn a living. In the popular tourist city of Lahaina, she found a roommate and a job serving tables at one of the busy restaurants. According to Rick, newcomers who settle in the Islands don't find it easy in the beginning. “It's kind of hard at first because you don't know anyone and you don't have many friends. In Lahaina, apartments are really expensive, so most of the people who work there can't live in town. You share apartments and do whatever you have to do to survive. And Kristin went through that period, living in the next village, Kahana. She made it, though, and just like I told her, really loved the atmosphere.”
Even though Kristin enjoyed soaking up sun, swimming, and surfing, she never avoided work. Peter Means respected her industrious efforts. “In addition to serving tables in restaurants, she supplemented her income as a salesclerk in a few of those little gift shops, where they sell puka shell jewelry and other tourist trinkets. In waitress's lives, they get good shifts and bad shifts, where the tips are smaller. She did well at that, but was also willing to work in the gift shops, which certainly did not pay high wages. Hawaii is not a cheap place to live.”
It didn't take long for the “aloha” spirit of conviviality, and the “hang loose” attitude of many locals, to possess Kristin. She found those qualities even more prevalent “up country.” Maui residents give that sobriquet to higher elevations and small villages along roads leading up to Haleakala, a towering volcano dominating Maui's eastern end.
New friends spoke to Kristin of a small town called Makawao, about sixteen miles upslope from the airport at Kahului. She trekked up there several times and decided it would be the perfect place to live and work. To
malihinis
(strangers), Makawao appeared to be a place of supreme tranquility, but young locals knew that super parties could be found behind the serene mask.
One of the best-known restaurants on Maui, Polli's Mexican Cantina, hired Kristin, and she would stay there nearly eight years. Having lived in California, she knew all about burritos, tacos, nachos, chimichangas, and Polli's specialty, margaritas. Coincidentally, the eatery is located on Makawao Avenue and
Baldwin
Avenue. Baldwin had been Kristin's surname during her mother's second marriage, and would be the name she would eventually use again. “Polli's is one of the most popular places around there,” said Rick.
Speaking of Makawao, he noted, “That's where they have a rodeo every year. The
paneolos
(Hawaiian cowboys) participate, and they have a parade. Kristin rode a horse in the parade one year. It belonged to one of her friends. She knew how to ride at a very young age from our visits to the farm in Vermont.”
In Peter Means's memory, Kristin seemed quite happy with her life in Maui. She could walk from her first residence to the beach, and carried her board over there almost every day. “She did a lot of surfing and spent a lot of time on the beach. She would be out there on her board at the crack of dawn, before work. She was in love with the ocean.”
On one occasion, her love affair with rolling waves nearly ended. Kristin had paddled out about forty yards, and sat waiting for the next breaker. A sudden, different kind of motion rippling the water underneath startled her, and she saw fish scattering in panic. Robin laughingly told of Kristin's fright. “She just knew there was a huge tiger shark in the water right below her board. That girl paddled back to dry land like she had an outboard motor. She was shaking and scared to death. I know because she called me and her voice was still trembling. She was like, ‘I'll never go back in the water.' I told her, ‘Oh, you have to go back, but go to a place where a lot of people are swimming.' Of course, she did and forgot all about the possibility of sharks.”
Her devoted stepfather kept in contact with Kristin during the entire ten years she lived on Maui. After he remarried, Peter and his wife, Sue, visited there on more than one occasion. When Kristin moved up country, she needed a car. Peter came to the rescue by shipping his Acura to her.
Although Rick and Kristin, due to living on different islands, weren't able to spend a lot of time together, they still managed to exchange visits periodically. He recalled, “She came over to see me on the Big Island once and spent three days staying in my house. We went to the beach and hung out. It was great being with her. Another time I went over there for Halloween. That event is a big thing in Lahaina. They close off the streets and everybody dresses up in costumes. They walk up and down the town and have contests about the best outfit and makeup. I flew over there with my roommates, and the whole plane was full of people in costume who had rushed to the airport at the last minute.”
Kristin spent most of her time working or on the beach, but she still managed an active social life. She never had trouble attracting men who wanted to date her, and even though an abundance of pretty women can be found in Hawaii, she seldom found herself sitting at home alone. None of the guys, though, lodged themselves in her heart.
This pattern ended when Kristin met Mike Luna (pseudonym) and immediately felt a powerful attraction. Mike's friends and acquaintances called him “Keoke.” Describing him, Rick said, “He was a couple of inches taller than I am, about six feet, slim, with short dark hair and a great tan. Nice-looking and a nice guy.” Asked if he appeared to be of Hawaiian or Islander descent, Rick replied, “Not when you first saw him. You would say no, but the minute he started to talk, you would say yes. He used that noticeable pidgin English.”
Nearly everyone in local Hawaiian social circles has a colorful nickname. Rick laughed as he spoke of it. “Mike was ‘Keoke' and Kristin became ‘Chickie.'” No one could explain why. She was just “Chickie.” Everybody knew her and thought she and Keoke made a handsome couple.
Keoke's private pilot's license allowed him to fly a small plane frequently between the Islands. It nearly cost him his life. He crashed in a remote section of Molokai, the island once known for its leper colony. Rick recalled it. “If he hadn't had a cell phone with him, Keoke probably wouldn't have survived. I believe he called Kristin from the wreckage. She relayed it to emergency responders, who arrived on the scene and transported Keoke for medical help. She spent a lot of time with him in the hospital helping him to recover. They really seemed to love each other a lot.”
As with most love relationships, problems developed. Kristin's fun-loving behavior perhaps grated on Keoke's nerves. Said Rick, “Keoke didn't like Kristin partying. He wasn't into that kind of activity. He was really a good guy, and would have a few beers with his buddies, but wasn't a hell-raiser. He grew up in Maui, and a lot of guys who are from the island are not big drinkers.” A smile lit Rick's face as he made these observations, and he added, “But a lot of them smoke quite a bit.” He explained that there is a lively trade of locally grown marijuana available. It was once known as “Maui Wowie.”
Before Peter gave Kristin a car, Rick offered to provide her with a vehicle. He recalled, “Cars change hands over there, sometimes as gifts. A guy might have a car worth only a few hundred bucks, and when he decides to leave the Islands, sometimes it's easier to just give it to a buddy rather than try to sell it.” It happened to Rick. “My neighbor had a little mini–station wagon. In his job as golf pro, he used to drive Michael Jordan around in that car so the famous basketball player could remain incognito. He said he couldn't get the passenger seat back far enough and Jordan had to jam his knees against the dashboard. When that guy was getting ready to leave, he asked me if I wanted the car. I told him I didn't have any money. So he said, ‘Aw, just take it,' and he signed it over to me. That's part of the aloha spirit over there.”
In 1994, Rick left the Islands for California, then lived in Tampa, Florida, for a while, moved to Puerto Rico, and returned to Hawaii in 1997. A friend had offered him a job on the pineapple island, Lanai.
By this time, Kristin had moved into a plantation-type house owned by Keoke. Rick liked the place. “The floor was about three or four feet above the ground for airflow ventilation, like a plantation house. Kristin had a room there for some time before she and Keoke began living together. I went over there for Kristin's twenty-ninth birthday in May 1998 and stayed a couple of nights. It was roomy and quite comfortable.”
Robin, Kristin's sister, also succumbed to the lure of the Islands and moved to Maui. She brought her two children, ages one and two, and lived in Kahana at the Island's western shore. While her husband did construction work, Robin followed Kristin's pattern and found employment in a restaurant. Rick, Robin, and Kristin, although widely separated by water and mountains, managed periodic visits with each other. Robin's stay lasted only six months, and she returned to California.
As the decade of the 1990s drew to a close, circumstances for Kristin began to fall apart. She had moved in with Keoke, but strong differences of opinion tore at their feelings. Said Robin, “When they split up, it was probably for the best, for both of them. But in their hearts, they knew they would be together again, sometime in the future.”
To make matters worse, Kristin lost her job at Polli's. Peter Means didn't know the exact cause, but later guessed, “It may have been related to an argument with a customer, since Kristin was a person with very strong opinions. I believe it went from the customer to her boss, and in cases like that, the boss always wins.”
More bad luck surrounded Kristin. She totaled the car Peter had given her in an auto accident. Looking back at that time frame, Peter Means's face grew somber. “In 2001, after she lost her job, things spiraled down for a period of time and she called me. She said, ‘I think I need to come home for a while.' She flew back to California and stayed with us a couple of months in our Simi Valley home. But she wasn't thrilled with the dry, rocky area where I lived. It is not the beach. This is a conservative town, not much for parties and such.”
The next few years flew by for Kristin with several moves. She spent a good portion of that period in various San Fernando Valley locations. Through mutual friends, she met a woman named Tara Rush, who invited Kristin to be a roommate in her spacious Canoga Park apartment. Kristin stayed with Tara several months. Even after she moved out, they kept in touch at least weekly and often visited one another.
BOOK: Date With the Devil
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