Little Lost Angel (37 page)
“I . . . I don’t know what I was going to say,” Laurie stammered. “I was just going to try to get her to talk to me.”
Townsend stood up and glowered down at the witness. “Some famous last words. Is that what you wanted?”
O’Connor shouted an objection, but it came too late. Everyone in the crowded room had already been mesmerized by the death-scene re-creation. Townsend, the inexperienced prosecutor whom Goering had expected to dance circles around, had pulled off his bold theatrics with a panache that left even the defense team dumbfounded.
* * *
Steve, Jacque, Sharon, and Jacque’s husband, Doug, were in the courtroom stairwell, smoking cigarettes during a court recess, when they heard several teenage boys yell to them from the floor below.
“Rot in hell,” they screamed, mimicking the phrase Jacque had used in court during Melinda’s hearing. Doug bolted down the steps after the teens and chased them across the courtyard, closing the distance with bounding strides and finally grabbing one of the boys by the scruff of the neck and swinging him around.
Although a gentle-spirited man, Doug had an intimidating look even when calm. When angry, as he was now, it was enough to cause the lad to whimper an apology. It was only then that the boy realized his error. He had mistaken Shanda’s family for relatives of Laurie.
“Listen, mister, you’ve got to believe me,” the boy pleaded. “We thought you was Laurie’s kin. I swear to God.”
Doug could see that the boy was telling the truth, and he let him go.
* * *
In the realm of hired courtroom psychologists, Dr. Eric S. Engum was considered a Top Gun. With degrees in law and clinical psychology, he had testified in sixty murder cases. Well practiced in the art of courtroom oratory, Engum needed only a few rudimentary questions from Goering to expound at great length about Laurie’s mental state.
“Miss Tackett has not developed a well-formed personality structure,” Engum said. “I’ve seen the term chameleonlike used, but a better way of describing it would be someone who obtains her identity from those around her. She’s never really developed a sense of self. She is somebody who literally enmeshes and intertwines her personality with somebody else.”
Engum accepted Laurie’s claims of numerous sexual molestations and said they’d had a devastating effect on her personality. These unpleasant childhood memories caused Laurie to have hallucinations and vivid nightmares. Engum said that Laurie’s mother had told her that these experiences were normal and that she was simply seeing visions of the Holy Spirit.
“This clouded Laurie’s ability to differentiate between what is real and what is not real and explains to some degree her belief in some of the more occult kinds of things,” Engum said.
Following Goering’s promptings, the doctor said, “There is no way that this is a woman who takes a dominant and directive role in a social situation with her peers. She simply is incapable of doing that. You have to be able to put people under your spell. I’m not saying she didn’t participate. She certainly participated. But as far as being the ringleader, the person who exerted peer pressure, there is nothing to suggest that is within her personality structure.”
Goering asked, “Can a group be more violent than an individual?”
“Oh, yes,” Engum said. “The research shows that over and over again. It’s almost like one person feeds off the other. It’s a bad example, but it’s kind of a shark-eating
frenzy. One shark can be fairly destructive, but when you get a pack of them they feed off each other. It’s almost like they sense the increased tension in the air and they feed off that.”
The doctor said that Laurie had never developed a conscience. “The way I like to describe this is having a little angel on your shoulder telling you that you are doing good or bad. She never learned at even a very basic level what was right or wrong at an early age. There was no opportunity to develop a sense of moral obligation to other people, a sense of assertiveness to inject yourself into a situation and do something. Her emotions have been blunted, dulled flat. You must recognize that this is a girl who literally takes razor blades to herself and cuts herself because she’s so dulled to the pain it’s virtually meaningless to her. It’s almost a pleasurable release for her because it’s the only way to deal with all that pain. If you can’t relate to your own pain, how do you relate to someone else’s pain? If you wanted to create a blueprint for someone who could do something this horrible, this is it.”
* * *
The hearing was over except for one final rebuttable witness for the state. Townsend had tracked down Grant Pearson, the young man who Laurie claimed had raped her two summers ago.
Pearson, a gangly sixteen-year-old with long brown hair, seemed fit to bust as he hurried into the courtroom and leered menacingly at Laurie, who wouldn’t meet his angry gaze.
Pearson told how he and another boy and Laurie and another girl had spent a day together in August of 1991. They ended up at the other boy’s house, where they got high by inhaling gasoline fumes from the tank of Pearson’s motorcycle. It was called “huffing,” Pearson explained. Each of them would take turns placing their mouth over the open gas tank and inhaling deep breaths. After several huffs of gas, Pearson said, he and Laurie had sex in the cab of his friend’s truck.
“At no time did she say no or ask me to stop,” Pearson said venomously. “There was no way on earth I ever raped her.”
Under cross-examination, Robert Barlow argued that Pearson had gotten Laurie intoxicated, then forced her to have sex against her will.
“How do you feel when you huff gas?” Barlow asked.
“You feel pretty weird,” Pearson answered with a grin.
“Do you feel promiscuous?”
“I didn’t feel like I wanted to go out and rape a girl, if that’s what you mean,” Pearson grunted.
“Is it a tingling feeling?” Barlow asked.
Pearson looked at Barlow like he was a real square. “You get a buzz on,” he said flippantly. “Know what a buzz is, man?”
The spectators laughed and the interrogation was over.
* * *
The following Monday morning, newspaper photographers and television cameramen huddled around the rear entrance of the courthouse, waiting for Laurie to be escorted by deputies from the county jail on the other side of the alley. The previous afternoon, after Laurie had testified about her mother, some of her own cousins had heckled her for besmirching her mother’s reputation. This morning the crowd of spectators was even larger. This would be their last chance to see Laurie and Melinda, both of whom would be sentenced following the closing arguments.
As Laurie emerged from the jail door flanked by deputies and her attorneys, the news reporters pushed closer, shouting questions and hoping for a response. “How many years do you think you’ll get?” one reporter yelled, pushing his microphone as close as possible. Laurie said nothing, although a young man in the crowd shouted, “They should kill her just like she killed that little girl.”
Once inside the courthouse doors, the deputies led Laurie up the two flights of stairs to Judge Todd’s packed courtroom. The room bristled with excitement and didn’t fall quiet until Judge Todd had taken his seat at the bench.
In a smooth, sure voice, Townsend began: “Melinda Loveless wanted somebody killed, and Laurie Tackett wanted to kill somebody. They each had a need, which was met by the other. Melinda got rid of her rival for Amanda Heavrin’s affections, and Laurie Tackett finally got the
experience of taking another person’s life, of burning another human being alive. The loser in all this was twelve-year-old Shanda Sharer, who had the misfortune of gaining the enmity of Melinda Loveless. But Melinda Loveless’s hatred alone did not lead to the death of Shanda Sharer. It wasn’t until Melinda Loveless’s hatred combined with Laurie Tackett’s bloodlust that Shanda Sharer’s fate was sealed. That Laurie Tackett was willing to take the life of a complete stranger is a far greater horror than the fact that Melinda Loveless was willing to take the life of someone she hated. Jealousy at least explains the fact that Melinda Loveless is a murderer although it does not in any way excuse it. But there is no such explanation for why Laurie Tackett is a murderer. The fact is, Laurie Tackett is a murderer precisely because she holds the lives of other people in such low regard that she is willing to snuff out the life of a twelve-year-old stranger to see how it feels to burn someone alive. Laurie Tackett murders not for vengeance but for pleasure, and the identity of her victim does not matter to her. It is enough for Laurie Tackett that her victim have blood that she can shed, have a skull that she can beat, and, ultimately, have a body that she can burn. For Laurie Tackett it matters not who she kills, but only that she kills.”
Goering began his closing argument by saying that the system had failed Laurie, pointing out that after she’d cut herself with her knife, his client had been placed in a mental institution less than a year before the murder.
“Laurie’s diagnosis months before this incident was one of self-mutilation, low self-esteem, poor social skills, a rigid family structure, possible family secrets, and a pervasive feeling of hopelessness. No one answered her cry for help.”
Goering once again shifted the blame to Melinda.
“If not for Melinda Loveless’s jealousy, her rage, her obsession for Amanda Heavrin, there would be no murder. Laurie Tackett is an impaired, dysfunctional person, a weapon used by Melinda Loveless. Who’s more responsible for the tiger in the house and the damage that it does, the tiger or the person who places the tiger in the house? Melinda Loveless used Laurie as her weapon. In our society we don’t tie a mad dog to a tree and beat it. That’s vindictive
justice. Instead we have compassion and treatment for those who are in need. Laurie Tackett is the product of a horrible life. Laurie Tackett is a weapon, intentionally selected and chosen by Melinda Loveless and manipulated by Melinda Loveless for Melinda Loveless’s purposes. Laurie Tackett is an emotionally and psychologically damaged person. I ask the court to demonstrate the empathy which she cannot feel. I ask the court to demonstrate the mercy that she cannot understand and provide her with the hope that she’d never had. I ask the court for a fair sentence. Thank you, Your Honor.”
In a sentencing hearing, the state is allowed to have the last word, and Townsend made the most of it in a short but moving speech.
His voice oozing with sarcasm, Townsend repeated one of Laurie’s statements: “‘The worst thing that ever happened to me was being born.’ If ever there was a self-pitying statement, that was it. But she’s not entirely wrong, because Laurie Tackett being born was the worst thing that ever happened to somebody. Laurie Tackett being born was the worst thing to ever happen to Shanda Sharer. There are times when juries are swayed not by the evidence in the case but by the artful arguments of counsel. But this is not a trial and there is no jury, and I do not believe this court is going to base its decision on anything said in closing arguments. I could be as inarticulate as a doorknob, and still the facts in evidence would speak so loudly and so eloquently that my silence would not be noticed. Sixty years, Your Honor. Laurie Tackett deserves not one day less than sixty years.”
* * *
After a short recess, Melinda was brought into the courtroom for her sentencing. She slipped into the wooden chair and cast her wildly frightened eyes at Judge Todd. Her mother, stepfather, and sisters sat in the front row, literally on the edge of their bench, each leaning forward with their hands clenched, seemingly in prayer.
Judge Todd cleared his throat, then read from the sheet of paper he held before him. As he cited a long list of aggravating factors, including the “gruesome nature” of the murder and the victim’s age, Shanda’s parents joined hands,
anticipating their victory. At last the words came: Todd levied the maximum sentence allowed under the plea agreements, sixty years in prison. Under Indiana law, Melinda would have to serve at least thirty years before being eligible for parole.
“You still have the power to turn yourself around and do something good and useful with your life after prison,” Todd said to a weeping Melinda. “Shanda Sharer does not. I hope you take advantage of that opportunity.”
Todd banged his gavel and asked for silence when Shanda’s parents and about two dozen relatives and friends applauded his announcement of the sentence. Jacque smiled broadly, then broke into tears. Steve hugged his wife, Sharon. Less than ten feet away, Melinda’s mother leaned her head on her husband’s chest, while her sisters stared into space in disbelief.
Melinda continued sobbing as a deputy led her from the courtroom. A minute later, Laurie stepped through the same door through which Melinda had departed. Her countenance was grim, her jaw set, and she didn’t flinch an inch when Judge Todd gave her the same sentence as Melinda.
Heeding Judge Todd’s prior warning against celebration, Jacque and Steve quietly hugged family members as Laurie was led away. Laurie’s father, George Tackett, turned from his seat and walked with head down to the hallway, where he waited, hoping for a chance to speak to his daughter before she was sent back to prison. Reporters pushed up next to Tackett and asked him to comment on Laurie’s sentence. He turned away from his questioners and leaned his forehead against the hallway wall, saying nothing.
Within a year George Tackett would die of cancer. Townspeople said he refused treatment.
