Authors: Steve Jackson
Emily and her husband, Scott, drove from Nashville to Oxford, Mississippi, to take care of her father’s final arrangements. Gathering his personal belongings, she was both amazed and deeply saddened that other than a few articles of clothing and random dishes, everything he owned fit into one box. She had her father cremated and his ashes placed in two urns.
Molly found it ironic and fitting that Emily brought her daddy’s remains back to Texas in January 2014, twenty-nine years almost to the day that Christi Meeks disappeared. Emily gave one urn to Michael and kept the other for herself. She also separated some ashes and along with her brother and mother, their husbands, and Molly’s mom and dad released them to the gentle breeze that blew over the graves of Bob’s parents.
As Molly had noted many years earlier, some detectives who dedicated parts of their lives to tracking down the killer of little girls were better able than her husband at putting the tragedy on a shelf. But not so high on the shelf that the ripples didn’t affect them, too, although sometimes only those closest to them know just how much it hurt.
Julie Sweet was relieved when after four years of consuming their lives, Penton pleaded guilty. Her husband can’t rest when working on a murder case—sometimes sleeping only a couple of hours a night, if that—and she’d worried about the effect on his health.
The Reyes case seemed like it would never end, and that her husband might never again get a good night’s sleep. She was proud of what he accomplished, and of all his cases, it was the most satisfying to his heart. His dogged pursuit of a monster did have an impact on their family; their girls probably suffered a little because of a dad who’d seen too much and was maybe a tad over-protective. But they always knew he loved them and understood that if they didn’t have some of the freedom their friends did, it was because of what had happened to those other little girls.
When the decision was made to accept Penton’s guilty pleas, Julie knew that her husband was disappointed. The case had affected him more than most. As a father, he’d identified with the murdered children and their families. He’d wanted Penton to be tried in a court of law, for the truth to come out in public, and for him to get the death penalty. Still, he’d told her once that if he could just put Penton away forever, knowing that he’d never get out and harm another child, then he could retire and know he’d had a good career.
When Sweet works on a cold case now, he makes sure that he contacts the families of the victims. By and large, they seem happy that he’s at least making an effort; even if nothing comes of it, they appreciate that someone still cares. He still keeps Roxann’s inspiration notebook on his desk, as well as the file for the Keith Calloway murder, to remind him that no matter how long it takes, the victims wait for justice, and the people who love them deserve answers. They deserve to know what happened, to recover the remains if possible, and know that the monster will not devastate some other family again.
In March 2006, Bruce Bradshaw retired from the Mesquite Police Department after 29 years of service. He’d promised Gail that after he found the person responsible for Christi’s death, he would leave the department. Far too many hours, even days, had been spent away from home working child abuse and homicide cases. She’d never complained, nor had his children. But now with Jodi and Laci out of the house, Gail would be alone at home, and that wasn’t fair.
However, he wasn’t quite ready to leave law enforcement entirely. Shortly before he put in for his retirement, his elderly mother and other relatives let him know that the position of police chief in Comanche was open. It was a chance to return to his roots and be near his mother. After talking it over with Gail, he applied for the position and got the job.
When he thinks about Penton now, he’s reminded of a traditional cowboy song he loved when he was growing up called,
“Tying Knots In The Devil’s Tail.”
It’s about two cowboys who, after a night of drinking in town, are accosted by the devil on their way back to the ranch. Of course, they do what any good cowboys will and lassoed, then branded the devil, after which they tied knots in his tale. The last verse of the song ends:
“So if you’re ever up there in the Sierra Peaks
and you hear one helluva wail
It’s just the devil a-yellin’ about
them knots tied in his tail.”
“I always thought of Penton as Satan,” Bradshaw says. “But we had finally tied a knot in his tail, and he’s still hollering about it.”
In the spite of the stones Penton tossed in the pond, ending some lives and ruining others, evil did not ultimately triumph. But better than anything this author can write, the final words of this story—words that apply to so many others—come from Gail Bradshaw.
“We celebrate life with our daughters, enjoying every day experiences, looking forward to the future, working to fulfill dreams. We help them grow with the understanding that evil may exist, but faith and family are always there to support you. You never take each other for granted.
“The death of Christi and an armed robbery taught us to cherish each other and all life has to offer. Our family grew, and continues to grow, strong through faith. Christi will always be a part of our family. The robbers are in prison. Penton has confessed. Christi can rest. Prayers have been answered.”
PICTURES
Christi Lynn Meeks was five years old when she was abducted from an apartment complex in Mesquite, Texas on Jan. 19, 1985.
Photo/Mesquite Police Department files
Several months after Christi’s disappearance, 10-year-old witness Tiffany Easter, described this suspect for an artist’s sketch.
Sketch by Bruce Greene for Mesquite Police Department
David Penton as he appeared in the spring of 1985 following his arrest for the murder of his 11-month-old son. He was released on an appeal bond and wasn’t arrested again until 1990 during which time he killed at least four more children.
File photo
The body of Christi Meeks was discovered on April 3, 1985 by two fisherman floating in Deer Haven Cove, Lake Texoma about 75 miles from Mesquite, Texas, where she where she was abducted in January.
Photo/Mesquite Police Department
Life changed forever for Mesquite detective Bob Holleman and his wife, Molly, after he received “The Call” following Christi Meeks’ disappearance on Jan. 19, 1985.
Photo/Molly Richarson
On February 12, 1986, Tiffany Ibarra was ten years old and walking to Bodie Elementary School in Dallas, Texas when she was abducted and then released by a young white man who had grabbed her on the sidewalk and pulled her into his van. She would be forever haunted by the bogeyman.
Photo/Dallas Police Department
Three days after Tiffany Ibarra’s run-in with the bogeyman, Christie Proctor, a few days shy of her tenth birthday, was abducted while walking near Bodie Elementary School. Her remains would not be found for two years.
Photo/Dallas Police Department