Caitlin Rother

For investigative journalist and bestselling author Caitlin Rother, publication of Down to the Bone was a personal victory achieved following extraordinary effort on her part to tell the story of the brutal and mystifying murders of a young family. Specifically, she spent twelve years researching and writing the book and publication was delayed three times before it finally made its way into bookstores and the hands of eager readers.

Rother began following the case from the very beginning show more when she saw news reports about the disappearance of the McStay family. She notes that every day in the United States an average of 600,000 people – usually a single child or adult – go missing. However, it is extremely “rare for a family of four, especially with two young children” to simply vanish. But that’s what happened sometime prior to February 15, 2010, in San Diego County.

Eleven days of no contact elapsed before Michael McStay alerted the San Diego County Sheriff’s Department that his brother, Joseph, and Joseph’s wife, Summer, as well as their two sons, aged three and four, were unaccounted for. The deputy who responded to the McStay’s home testified, “It appeared that whoever was there, in my mind, had just got up and left.” Although the front door was locked, the family’s truck was parked in the driveway with a newspaper dated February 5, 2010, lodged under one of the tires. In the kitchen, food, dirty dishes, and Summer’s prescription glasses were left on the counters, and mold was floating in the coffee pot. It appeared that someone had been interrupted while painting the kitchen without an opportunity to clean up because doors and drawers were laid out on newspaper on the floor, and a roller was caked with dried paint and stuck to the tray into which paint had been poured. The family’s two dogs were abandoned in the backyard of the residence with no food or water. Because the McStays were in the process of remodeling the house, it was impossible to discern whether other areas were equally unkempt because of the ongoing renovation or if the family routinely maintained the home in that manner.

Investigators found no blood or any signs of a struggle in or around the home. They discovered no evidence pointing to why the McStays seemingly left their residence abruptly and unexpectedly. There were no clues left behind as to their whereabouts, whether someone else was involved in their disappearance and, if so, the identity of that person or persons.

From its inception, the case was mishandled by law enforcement. Since the San Diego Sheriff’s Department had no missing persons team, the responding deputy referred the matter to homicide detectives who also immediately recognized that something was very wrong. They began conducting interviews, asking detailed questions about the McStays and their relationships with family members and business associates, and delving into the McStays’ finances. They also issued a news release concerning the McStays’ disappearance.

But they failed to secure the McStay residence as a possible crime scene. McStay’s mother, Susan, proceeded to the home, gained access, and commenced cleaning the kitchen, potentially destroying evidence in the process. Four days later, investigators, who were in the process of obtaining a search warrant, returned to the scene to find it permanently and irretrievably altered. Susan insisted she had been given permission to clean up, a claim detectives denied. But at that juncture the detectives were viewing the matter as a missing persons case, not an active homicide investigation, so they didn’t feel they “could tell the McStays what to do or not to do, especially when they didn’t believe Joseph’s family had been murdered.”

Joseph owned and operated a waterfall manufacturing business which lacked formal structure. Apparently, sans any written agreements outlining each party’s duties and responsibilities, Joseph had two business associates. Charles “Chase” Merritt worked on installation of the projects Joseph designed, while Dan Kavanaugh created and maintained the company website. Joseph was increasingly pursuing custom projects with Merritt which they considered separate and apart from the main business, maintaining separate financial records documenting their efforts. Joseph had become embroiled in a dispute with Kavanaugh, known as “Hacker Dan” and “Dan the Hacker,” that resulted in Kavanaugh threatening in January 2009 to disable the business website and destroy the business. Joseph felt he had no choice but to capitulate to Kavanaugh’s demands that Joseph buy him out of what he asserted was his share of the business. Kavanaugh made those threats in writing via instant messages. But mentioned none of those details when he contacted the authorities on February 10, 2010, concerning his inability to reach Joseph or posted on Facebook a day earlier that Joseph was “AWOL.” Investigators failed to deem that information relevant. As far as Michael knew, Kavanaugh had been paid in full for any ownership interest he’d had in the business and when the McStays disappeared, he was merely “contract labor” paid on a monthly basis “to do the internet stuff.”

Merritt insisted that he had a good working relationship with Joseph and they communicated regularly about various projects, having never had any kind of falling out. He maintained that he had no motive to harm the McStays, in part because “without Joseph, ‘my business is done. I mean my/our entire business.’” Merritt acknowledged he lacked the ability to perform the tasks Joseph did, such as creating drawings and dealing with customers. He denied ever meeting Kavanaugh, whom Joseph feared following their disagreement the previous year. “Joseph talked about that all the time. Joseph was always afraid that [Kavanaugh] was just going to push a button and the website would be gone because that is what Dan said when they clashed.” Allegedly, Kavanaugh told Joseph, “I’m not a person that you want to piss off on the web.” Merritt agreed to provide a DNA sample in order to be ruled out as a possible suspect, but authorities failed to follow up.

The McStays’ whereabouts and fate remained an unsolved mystery for nearly four years until an off-road motorcyclist noticed what appeared to be a human skull in the Mojave Desert. Authorities found more child-sized bones strewn about and two shallow graves with tire tracks from two different large vehicles leading up to them. (Ironically, Michael told a newspaper in March 2010 that he feared he was “looking for two adult shallow graves and . . . my two nephews’ crosses,” accurately describing what was eventually found.) Among the other items retrieved from the gravesites was a sledgehammer, and three of the four family members were determined to have died as a result of blunt-force trauma to the head. Notably, the size of the head wounds matched the sledgehammer. Head wounds generally result in heavy blood loss, but there was no blood or DNA retrieved.

Rother is known for her painstaking research, but Down to the Bone required Herculean efforts to gather and assimilate the evidence and distill it into a manageable and engrossing narrative that both holds readers’ interest and accurately portrays the case’s convoluted and disturbing route to a controversial and questionable verdict.

Rother reviewed thousands of pages of documents, including search warrants, affidavits, public records, and transcripts. She attended or watched portions of the trial and conducted interviews of the few people who would cooperate with her. After she had completed a manuscript of about 90,000 words with four months to go until her submission deadline, she received thousands more pages of discovery materials that had never before been released to the public from two sheriff’s agencies. She began the arduous task of digesting that information and revising the book.

Who murdered the McStay family? More importantly, what could serve as motivation to kill two innocent little boys, only three and four years old, along with their parents, especially in such a heinous manner?

Rother spent years working as a respected investigative journalist before becoming a true crime author. She still employs her investigative skills, but even though she is no longer employed by a news organization as a reporter and, technically, not constrained by the principles governing that profession, she continues to resolutely refrain from offering an opinion about the cases she researches. Rather than take a position on anyone’s guilt or innocence, Rother says, “I’m just the messenger, laying out the evidence and the sometimes-ugly truth of how this case came together.” Still, she admits, “I honestly don’t know who killed the McStays.”

Rother’s straight-forward, easy to follow but deeply disturbing narrative details an exceedingly complicated case that was mismanaged from the outset. She illustrates the investigators’ confirmation bias that caused them to overlook crucial evidence and fail to follow leads that might have led them to logical conclusions. The assigned judge was guilty of the same prejudiced view of the matter, failing to issue a search warrant as the investigation was just getting underway, despite there being sufficient probable cause to do so. That same judge exhibited no ability to manage his courtroom or the proceeding, allowing the attorneys to turn the trial into an undisciplined spectacle. He issued arguably erroneous evidentiary rulings, and finally just gave up, ceding control to highly unprofessional attorneys and leaving it to a higher court to review the record and render correct findings.

Rother compellingly details the prosecution’s construction and presentation to the jury of a timeline describing how the murders occurred that defied logic since it was “completely full of holes, discrepancies, and conflicts.” Rother approaches every case with an open mind but acknowledges that “the more I got into this, the more I could see that was true.” Expert witnesses can be particularly problematic, and in this case, one expert was fired solely because his opinion did not fit the narrative concocted by counsel, and another expert was substituted and permitted to testify even though his theory and conclusions were insupportable.

Merritt was convicted of four counts of first-degree murder with special circumstances (multiple murders), and the jury imposed the death penalty for the killing of Summer and the children, and sentenced him to life without the possibility of parole for Joseph’s murder.

Unbelievably, the jury convicted Merritt without ever hearing evidence about when, where, how, or why the McStays were killed.

As noted, there was no blood found in their home, vehicles, the gravesites, on the sledgehammer buried with them or the clothing they were apparently wearing when they were buried, or in Merritt’s vehicle. The prosecution contended that Merritt’s vehicle was at the McStay residence, despite competent contradictory evidence establishing that the vehicle seen on video footage definitely was not Merritt’s. Merritt was shown to be a thief and gambler but had no history of violence. He forged checks totaling approximately $20,000 so the prosecution asked the jury to believe that served as sufficient motivation to murder the family of four in their residence by smashing their skulls with a sledgehammer before transporting their bodies to the desert where they were buried (despite no blood or DNA being found anywhere). The cell phone evidence proffered by the prosecution was not just muddled and confusing. It lacked scientific support and failed to establish Merritt’s presence in specific locations at the precise times the prosecution argued established his guilt – even though no time of death was ever determined.

The judge precluded the defense from relying upon a third-party culpability theory, citing no direct connection to Kavanaugh, even though the dispute between him and Joseph was shown, along with Kavanaugh’s threats to destroy the business. Financial records proved that Kavanaugh extracted more than $200,000 from the business and spent all but $59,000 of that sum in nightclubs, etc. He engaged in other machinations, some before the McStay family went missing, including taking over the business account, changing the password, and claiming to be the owner in an attempt to sell the business to two men who owned a marijuana dispensary. A gun belonging to Joseph was found in an abandoned vehicle in Las Vegas and traced back to a man who owned a dispensary. Moreover, Kavanaugh had a history of threatening women as well as a potential male client, telling him his bones could turn up in the desert “like the other people who had gone against him in business deals.” Allegedly, Kavanaugh bragged about killing the McStays. Nonetheless, the judge refused to admit evidence pertaining to Kavanaugh’s character or criminal record, or his threats to Joseph.

Merritt maintains he had inadequate representation, a claim that will undoubtedly be explored by the appellate court. He attempted to represent himself, dismissed several attorneys, and one lawyer conflicted out of the case after he failed to present complex exculpatory evidence pertaining to cell phones and how their locations are determined.

Now sixty-eight years old, Chase Merritt remains imprisoned in California, pending the outcome of the automatic appeal triggered by imposition of the death penalty. Such appeals typically span between ten and twenty years.

Rother says it is her hope that reading Down to the Bone will enlighten readers about “the workings and flaws of our criminal justice system and also changes preconceived notions” about the McStay case in particular. In Down to the Bone she reveals how multiple failures and mistakes shed serious doubt on whether the McStay family’s killer was convicted . . . or remains at large. She masterfully lays out the salient aspects of the investigation and trial and, in the process, elucidates the numerous ways in which the criminal justice system buckled under the weight of incompetence, callous disregard, biases, and egos. Did prosecutorial misconduct, fueled by a desire to win at any cost, result in the conviction of an innocent man? That’s an issue with which the appellate court will certainly grapple.

Done to the Bone is as fascinating as it is disappointing and disturbing, but Rother deftly guides readers on a difficult journey, compelling them to reach their own conclusions about whether justice has been served. It's a question readers will likely ponder again and again.

Thanks to NetGalley for an electronic Advance Reader's Copy and to Kensington Books for a paperback Advance Reader's Copy of the book. show less

This book just goes to show all the investigative TV shows don't tell you everything, this books delves so much more into everything that happened as well as the people involved in both tragedies that occurred at Spreckels Mansion.
This book steps you through the lead up and aftermath of Rebecca and Max's deaths as well as the many layers and different turns the lives and investigation took which actually left me going from confident in regards to what I thought occurred from watching shows show more to feeling conflicted about almost everyone especially Rebecca after learning so much more about her past which is complex, along with Adam and how he acted then and since, then we have how the San Diego County Sheriff’s Department acted then and now which infuriated me.
This is definitely a book where you can get the honest and hard facts that have been meticulously gathered and laid out for you to draw you own conclusion on, you are not swayed one way or the other into what is believed to have happened it is up to you. I also felt when added in the personal connection that the author has to the subject it gives everything a more personal feel and depth to it that makes you take note of actions and information so much more. show less

“I’m in some real bad trouble and I think the police are looking for me. I need your help. I need you to come get me.” So began the telephone call Rodney Ford received from his younger brother, Wayne, at 7:00 p.m. on November 2, 1998, at his home in Vallejo, California. Although he was tired after his last day working as a superintendent for a construction company in South San Francisco, Rodney could tell that the call was somehow different from previous pleas for help from Wayne. So show more he embarked on the five-hour drive to Trinidad, a tiny coastal town in Humboldt County. Rodney had no way of knowing what was about to transpire or that his life – along with his and so many other families’ lives — were about to be forever and irrevocably changed.

At the time, Rodney told authorities Wayne had refused to provide details, saying only, “I hurt some people, and I don’t want to hurt anybody anymore. I want to go to the sheriff’s. I want to turn myself in.” Ronald convinced Wayne they should first get some rest, and then they spent the next day together. Wayne kept repeating that he hurt people and Rodney worried the people Wayne was referencing might be in danger and need help. Until Wayne confirmed that “they don’t have to worry about anything anymore.” Ronald recognized he could be charged as an accomplice after the fact, so when Wayne vacillated and delayed about turning himself in, he knew there was no turning back. Despite his wavering, Wayne was aware that “I would do what was right, regardless of the consequences,” Rodney recalls.

The Humboldt County deputy sheriffs were baffled at first. There was no existing warrant for Wayne’s arrest nor was he a suspect in any criminal investigations. But Wayne was insistent, telling them, “Once you see what I have in my pocket, you’ll know. It’s just the tip of the iceberg.” To convince them, he retrieved a plastic bag containing a human female breast and was immediately arrested on suspicion of aggravated mayhem (removal of a human body part). The detectives began questioning Wayne in detail. Despite talking about having an attorney represent him, Wayne knowingly and volitionally waived his right to have counsel present while being questioned. The officers believed Wayne’s assertions were related to their ongoing search for the killer of “Torso Girl,” a young woman whose identity remained a mystery more than a year after only a portion of her dismembered body was discovered by kayakers in a nearby slough.

Relating those events in her Prologue, bestselling author Caitlin Rother deftly lures readers into the story from the very first sentence of Body Parts, the book she describes as “probably the most gruesome tale I’ve ever written.” It is indeed a grisly, yet riveting and unusual story of a brutal serial killer and the string of crimes (including rape, torture, and murder) he committed as he traveled up and down California, working as a long-haul trucker and victimizing dozens of women. Unusual because “Ford stands out from other killers, because he turned himself in to stop himself from killing again,” Rother says. Once Wayne determined to turn himself in, he sought assistance from Rodney, the one person in his life he could count on to ensure that he followed through. Instances of serial murderers turning themselves in and confessing are rare. Also unusual because rather than exercising his right to be represented while being interrogated, Wayne proceeded to confess to numerous heinous crimes, and even led authorities to locations where he claimed to have concealed evidence. He was cognizant that once he contacted sheriff’s deputies, he would never again be a free man. And he never has been. He was eventually convicted of four counts of first-degree murder with special circumstances. Now sixty-three years old and sentenced to death, Wayne remains incarcerated at the California Men’s Colony in San Luis Obispo. Had Wayne not confessed, the majority of the crimes of which he was convicted would likely remain unsolved. The actual number of his crimes and identities of his victims will never be known with certainty.

Rother extensively researched her account of the case. She was granted access to trial exhibits, witness interview recordings and transcripts, Wayne’s military medical files (he served in the Marine Corps but was discharged due to his mental health and behavioral issues), and other documents, “some of which never made their way into the jury’s hands,” she notes. She also conducted interviews with the detectives who worked on the case; Rodney and his father, Gene; and some of the victims’ family members, although some declined to speak with her, as did Wayne’s mother. She spent countless hours extracting salient details as she carefully constructed a compelling and thought-provoking narrative.

In Body Parts, Rother acquaints readers with a man who had a troubled, tumultuous childhood. His parents met when his mother, Karen, was just sixteen years old and Gene was four years older. Their recollections of their family life are widely divergent and include allegations of spousal abuse and rape. It is undisputed that they married about a year and a half after they met and Karen was pregnant with Rodney. From the outset, Karen felt trapped in a life she did not want, and matters worsened when she became pregnant with Wayne — by the time she was nineteen years old, Karen was the mother of two young sons. She admitted that she was never affectionate with or able to show love to them. In fact, she cruelly told Wayne that he was conceived when Gene raped her. Some experts cited her claim as a factor in Wayne’s later troubles, of which there were plenty. He was an emotional child who craved attention, had trouble socializing, and exhibited mood swings and violent behavior. Eventually, Gene and Karen divorced, with the boys bouncing between their parents’ homes and their Uncle Jimmy’s, who observed that even as a youngster, Wayne “couldn’t handle doing something wrong and not being punished for it.” Even as a child, Wayne confessed when he misbehaved and after one aborted effort to run away, found his way to Juvenile Hall where he attempted to turn himself in. Eventually, his family decided the best course of action would be for Wayne to enlist in the military and, with Gene’s consent, he began basic training when he was barely seventeen years old. He sustained head injuries when he was struck by a drunk driver in 1980, the nature and lasting effect of which later became a point of contention during the trial. As noted, his military service was terminated by the government.

In a straight-forward manner, Rother details Wayne’s mental health struggles and two troubled marriages. His wives related being subjected to dominance, demands that they engage in sexual acts with which they grew increasingly uncomfortable (including autoerotic asphyxiation), rape, other forms of physical as well as emotional abuse, and even wanting his second wife to work as a prostitute. He drank heavily and was often depressed. During his first marriage, he was arrested for the attempted rape of another woman, but the charge was ultimately dismissed. He held a variety of jobs as he moved around California, and had a son, Max, with his second wife in 1995, in whom he showed little interest. After the marriage ended, Wayne stated he “hated women” and because “his wife took his kid away from him, . . . he wanted to ‘cut them up,’ ‘dismember’ them and ‘hide everything that would identify them.'” Was Wayne relating fantasies or confessing?

Rother explores Wayne’s horrifying crimes, detailing the unspeakable acts to which he subjected them in a sensitive and restrained narrative which is nevertheless deeply disturbing. In addition to “Torso Girl,” the body of Tina Renee Gibbs, a twenty-five-year-old prostitute with a criminal record, was found in the California Aqueduct near Buttonwillow. “Orange County Doe” made the mistake of getting into Wayne’s truck in Anaheim but lived to relate the ordeal. When Wayne released her, “he told her she was lucky because others had not survived.” Twenty-two-year-old Rachel Holt made the same mistake in Santa Rosa. He left her on the side of a freeway, hog-tied with one of his neckties, after showing her a photo of his ex-wife and son while claiming his actions were motivated by a desire for revenge. He actually hugged her and said, “I’m sorry I did this to you. Because you gave me a shoulder to cry on, I’m going to let you go.” She went straight to authorities and submitted to grueling examinations that facilitated the collection of confirming evidence. Valerie Rondi also survived her encounter with Wayne, but not before being tortured and forced to traverse California with him, from Eureka south almost to the Mexican border. Lanett Deyon White, age twenty-five, was not so fortunate. Her body was discovered in an irrigation ditch along Highway 12 just west of Interstate 5 near Lodi. She had an extensive criminal history and was “caught in a downward spiral,” but remained close to her mother and left behind a daughter. Wayne also dumped the body of Patricia Anne Tamez, who was twenty-nine years old with a lengthy arrest record, in the California Aqueduct near Interstate 15 in Hesperia. By telling his victims’ stories in an unembellished yet compassionate manner, Rother gives necessary context to the story, especially the final chapters in which she circles back to Wayne’s surrender to authorities and confession, and the subsequent trial.

Rother’s skillful recitation of foundational facts makes her description of the trial and sentencing both fascinating and thought-provoking. Charges filed in different jurisdictions were adjudicated in one trial during which there was no question that Wayne was a killer deserving appropriate punishment. Rather, the issues the jury wrestled with included Wayne’s intent. Were the killings premeditated, a requisite finding for a first-degree murder conviction? During interviews, Wayne readily remembered events, but – conveniently? – claimed he could not recall critical aspects or the killings themselves. To no one’s surprise, retained experts reached different conclusions about his undisputed social and family history, and mental health challenges and diagnoses, his ability to reason and retain information, as well as his capacity to appreciate the difference between right and wrong, and express genuine remorse. Much was made of the fact that Wayne turned himself in, ostensibly so he would be stopped from taking more lives and absent his confession, he would still be on the loose. Why did Wayne kill? What was his motive for forcing those women to engage in sexual activities many people would consider far outside the realm of normalcy, physically and mentally tormenting them before discarding their bodies in abhorrently disrespectful ways? If Wayne is indeed the “monster” the prosecutor described (“There are monsters in the world . . . They look like human beings and sometimes they look exactly like Mr. Ford. ‘Cause Mr. Ford is, in fact, a monster.”), what factors shaped him into such a creature? The lack of love and care his mother showed him? The head injuries he sustained? The deep pain he described about being separated from his young son after his second divorce? Rother’s plainspoken explanations of the legal machinations illuminate the nuanced issues, and challenge readers to step into the jurors’ shoes and decide if they would render the same verdict. And sentence Wayne – theoretically, at least – to death. (Which in reality, in California, at least, means a life in prison without the possibility of parole.)

Rother acknowledges that some people are simply fascinated by serial killers and enjoy reading about them. But she maintains that she does not “write these books to be entertaining. I write them with the hope of educating people about the criminal justice system, humanity, and the different paths they both can take, some darker than others. . . . I also write them to give a voice to the victims and their families.” Rother reports that Body Parts allowed her to bring more closure to the victims’ families than any of her other books. The 2025 update happily reveals that technological advances and a law enforcement commitment to solving cold cases brought resolution to the family of “Torso Girl,” who got her name back: Kerry Anne Cummings, a free spirit and thinker who disappeared in 1997 at the age of twenty-five. She is no longer a “Jane Doe” and the parts of her remains located by officials have been returned to her family.

Kerry Anne Cummings. Tina Renee Gibbs. Lanett Deyon White. Patricia Anne Tamez. Those are the names that, hopefully, readers will remember. Those four young women’s lives were cut short by a “monster” who today, as recounted by Rodney, laughs about murdering them and brags about leading investigators on wild goose chases in their search for evidence. He’s not remorseful about killing anybody,” Rodney, who has never visited his brother in prison, says.

Kerry Anne Cummings. Tina Renee Gibbs. Lanett Deyon White. Patricia Anne Tamez. Along with “Orange County Doe,” Rachel Holt, Valerie Rondi, and the other victims who have never been located or identified.

Body Parts is their haunting, difficult to read, but important story. And it should be read by all serial killer afficionados and other true crime fans.

I was fortunate to receive a complimentary Advance Reader's Copy of the 2025 revised edition of the book from the author, which enabled me to review it. show less

In Love Gone Wrong, murders committed or commissioned by the victims’ significant others are spotlighted. Each story is fascinating, proving yet again that the old adage is accurate: Truth is indeed often stranger than fiction.

Kill Him Some More tackles the murder of Ronald Vinci, described by his attorney as “a man of integrity,” who built an empire from meager beginnings. He went to San Diego in the 1960’s with $1500 and some tools, but was a multimillionaire when in 2011, at age show more 71, his body was discovered in a Florida mansion. His girlfriend, former flight attendant Catherine Pileggi, spent eighteen years with Vinci in an on-again, off-again relationship that Vinci apparently had recently informed her was about to be off again. She admitted that she killed Vinci — after initially trying to convince a friend that Vinci had fallen down the stairs — but contended that she acted in self-defense. In a classic case of “overkill,” however, Pileggi didn’t just shoot Vince in the head. She also stabbed him in the chest five times, sliced his throat, and hit him in the head with a hammer. Next, Rother relates the story of Melissa and Bryan Sorendino, two drug addicted felons living on the opposite end of the socioeconomic spectrum. Like Pileggi, Sorendino claimed her husband, from whom she had been estranged since shortly after the wedding, forced the barrel of the gun into her mouth, so she “had to stop him before he killed me.” She killed him by lodging a bullet in his chest at close range — as well as another in the back of his head that exited via the right side of his skull, just for good measure.

The other two Florida cases are particularly tragic because they involve parents dying at the behest of their children. When Chuck and Vicki Robinson divorced for the second time in 1994, their eleven-year-old daughter, Valessa, missed her father, who moved to St. Louis and remarried. Living with her religious mother, Valessa acted out by experimenting with drugs and sex. She fell hard for Adam William Davis, four years her senior, who had a criminal record and no plans or prospects for a stable future. Undeterred, Valessa was determined to become pregnant with his child and marry him. Her mother found and read Valessa’s journal, an act which proved to be her undoing. Vicki planned to send Valessa to a residential Christian school for troubled girls, but the plan never came to fruition. Despite a courageous struggle, Vicki was killed by Davis, at her own daughter’s urging, who took up residence on death row in January 2000. Valessa was sentenced as an adult and served fifteen years before being released in 2013.

Only ninety-five miles from the Robinson home, Courtney Schulhoff’s father attempted to keep her away from Michael Morin. In 2004, Courtney told police that her father, Steve, had beaten her because she stole his credit cards and used them without authorization, planned to drop out of school, and refused to stop seeing Morin. Courtney and Morin provided differing accounts of how Steve came to be bludgeoned in his bedroom with a baseball bat, his body wrapped in bedclothes and, like Vicki Robinson’s, stuffed upside down into a plastic storage bin. Courtney and Morin wrote love letters while awaiting trial, quoting “Romeo and Juliet.” After being sentenced to life without the possibility of parole, Courtney changed her story, taking credit for the killing where she had previously insisted that Moran killed Steve even as she begged him not to. In an attempt to free Morin, she testified at Morin’s trial that she beat her father to beat out of anger at Steve having raped her. The ploy failed. Morin was convicted of murder and, although not condemned, like Courtney, will never be eligible for parole.

Sometimes justice takes a long time, as in the case of the Georgia murder of Lita Sullivan, who was gunned down just inside the 17,000-square-foot mansion in Florida where she had been residing after finally ending her nine year marriage to the faithless Jim Sullivan. Seeing a flower delivery man through a glass panel in the door, Lita opened it — and was no match for the gun-toting assassin. She died at age 35 in January 1987, but her husband did not stand trial until March 2006. He was convicted of murder, but not sentenced to die since some of the jurors were opposed, on the basis of religion, to the death penalty (Rother does not expound upon why those individuals qualified, in light of their beliefs, to serve as jurors.) Initially lacking enough solid evidence to charge Sullivan with murder, he was first indicted in 1992 under federal law of using interstate commerce facilities in the commission of murder for hire and three other charges, none of which stuck. However, luck and some attention from Hollywood, along with the dedication of seasoned investigators, finally resulted in a plea bargain for the hired killer in 1998. Sullivan, however, eluded capture until the case was featured on “America’s Most Wanted.” A tip permitted authorities to track Sullivan down, but they had to prevail in a lengthy extradition battle before Sullivan was returned to the United States and convicted of hiring an employee of a moving company to “take care of his wife” before the critical ruling in the Sullivans’ divorce proceeding. Sullivan was motivated to kill Lita because losing the divorce case was was going to “change [his] whole lifestyle.”

Rother also explores the convoluted tale of Richard Braun, who wanted to extricate himself from fraudulent business practices after giving up drugs and participating in AA meetings. A series of inept attempted murders, likened to a “comedy of errors,” appeared unrelated. But investigators got lucky when an employee of a murder-for-hire operation spanning Georgia, Florida, and Minnesota agreed to participate in a recorded telephone conversation with his boss. From there, details began to emerge and the puzzle pieces started falling into place, revealing “a crew of ragamuffin players” who, for the most part, never managed to carry out the murders for which they were contracted. The ringleader ended up serving a life sentence, while most of his crew brokered plea deals for themselves by revealing details. Soldier of Fortune magazine turned out to be a common denominator — the killers and would-be killers had been recruited through a “Gun for Hire” ad. The magazine paid judgments to the victims and ceased running those types of ads in 1986.

Lastly, Rother recounts the case of Kelly Renee Gissendaner, who found religion, demonstrated remorse, and completed a degree in theology while in prison where she counseled and assisted other inmates. Pleas for mercy from various religious groups, her own children, and even the Pope were futile. She was the second woman put to death in Georgia, the first execution of a woman having occurred seventy years earlier. Kelly married Douglas Gissendaner twice. After their first divorce, they both served in the U.S. Army. Eventually, they remarried. But they separated again after two years. Before they divorced a second time, Kelly fell in love with Gregory Bruce Owen, whom she convinced to murder Douglas so that she could collect the proceeds of a life insurance policy she believed existed. The policy limit was a mere $20,000 which Kelly planned to use to pay off the modest mortgage encumbering the Gissendaner residence. In the end, there was no life insurance policy. For Owen’s part, he was a willing participant in Kelly’s scheme because he figured that with Douglas out of the way, he would not have to fear that Kelly would again reconcile with her husband. And he would have a place to live.

In Love Gone Wrong, Rother employs the writing style that has made her a New York Times bestselling author. As usual, Rother’s thorough research of the cases she profiles is evident and her approach to each measured. Unlike Rother’s full-length books, each story is presented as a concise, quickly readable summary. Yet in true investigative style, Rother provides sufficient pertinent detail to provide her readers with an understanding of the major developments in each case, along with significant quotes from those involved, and an explanation of the ultimate resolution. She presents the legal bases for the defendants’ appeals and the results thereof using minimal “legalese” so that nonlawyers can appreciate the strategic machinations and their import. Most importantly, Rother makes no attempt to convince readers of the killers’ motives, instead including salient evidence that permits readers, like juries, to weight that evidence and draw their own conclusions. The cases of Vicki Robinson and Steve Schulhoff are the most emotionally wrenching give that they were victims of their own children and, in part, thanks to Rother characteristic restrained approach. With the death penalty the focus of intense scrutiny and debate, especially in California, Rother wisely concludes Love Gone Wrong with Gissendaner’s story, aptly titled Jailhouse Religion. Although each case is fascinating in its own right, it is Gissendaner’s that is the most thought-provoking and the one readers will likely find themselves pondering long after reading it. Once again, I find myself highly recommending Rother’s impeccable work. Love Gone Wrong is an enthralling and entertaining summer read. show less