|
|
About the story
This report was written after dozens of interviews with law-enforcement officers, neighbors, former associates and South Carolina residents who had come into contact with Richard Marc Evonitz. The reporter retraced Evonitz's route on the day of the abduction and gleaned additional information from government and law-enforcement records.
COLUMBIA, S.C.--She was gone. Escaped.
Richard Marc Evonitz knew what that meant. So he grabbed some essentials from his garden apartment, jumped into his silver 1996 Ford Escort and left.
Evonitz also took along a cell phone and his .25-caliber pistol. It was Tuesday morning, and the man police suspect killed three Spotsylvania County girls in the late 1990s sped off into his final days.
Until then, his plan had gone smoothly.
Evonitz had waited until his wife and mother had left town for Disney World--an exciting vacation for Hope, his 20-year-old wife. He had taken Monday off.
Alone, the 38-year-old Evonitz had borrowed his mother's green Pontiac Firebird and tossed a large Rubbermaid storage container into its trunk. It fit better in the Pontiac than in his compact Escort.
He then drove out past Columbia's airport to a subdivision off Old Barnwell Road.
The subdivision could be Anywhere, USA. Tidy, manicured lawns and flower plots mark the boundaries of the little plots. Most of the homes are small ranch-style houses--but the neighborhood is clean and bright.
It may have reminded Evonitz of similar subdivisions in sprawling Spotsylvania County, where police say he had cruised many times, years ago. This neighborhood differed from his old Virginia haunts only in the occasional palmetto tree and the white, sandy soil of South Carolina.
He saw her; she was watering flowers. Young, brown-haired, slightly built. The way he liked them.
He pulled up and pretended to be a magazine salesman. She believed him, and started leafing through some magazines he'd brought. He pulled his .25, held it to her throat and led her to the Pontiac's trunk, where he forced her to fold herself into the Rubbermaid box.
He slammed the trunk lid and drove off.
No one had noticed.
The girl, a 15-year-old from Lexington County, found herself trapped with a man who habitually stalked teen-age girls and who police suspect abducted and killed Sofia Silva in 1996 and Kati and Kristen Lisk in 1997.
Soon, the Pontiac stopped. Evonitz opened the trunk and the girl saw she was in a stand of piney woods. Long stretches of loblollies, split by sandy, unpaved roads, lie within five minutes of the subdivision along Old Barnwell Road.
The road leads to U.S. 1 and to Interstate 26; it is the shortest route from the neighborhood where the girl was abducted to Evonitz's apartment. He handcuffed her, shut the trunk again, and continued driving.
She would soon be jostled by the bounce of the Pontiac over a set of railroad tracks, then feel the motor rev as Evonitz accelerated onto I-26.
A short time later, she would have heard the odd drone a car makes as it crosses a concrete bridge. She might have known she was crossing the Saluda River into Richland County.
Soon the Pontiac slowed as it turned back onto side roads. Then the car stopped.
Evonitz opened the trunk and hauled the container--with the girl inside--out of the car and up seven steps to his ground-floor apartment, No. 301. She would have heard him unlock the door and then felt the coolness of an air-conditioned room, a welcome break from the stifling trunk in a South Carolina summer.
The trip had taken barely 15 minutes. But the ensuing horror would last more than 15 hours.
Evonitz took her from the box and tied her to a homemade restraining setup bolted to his bed. Law-enforcement officials say Evonitz and his young wife used the setup in their own private life.
But that was consensual. This was rape.
Evonitz made her watch TV to see if her disappearance was on the news, made her watch pornographic videos, made her call him "Daddy."
Eventually, Evonitz fell into a snoring sleep, which was possibly drug-induced.
Somehow the girl managed to free herself Tuesday morning. Still cuffed, she bolted out the door--screaming--into the parking lot toward two men. They took her to a nearby police substation, where she told the cops what had happened.
They moved quickly, but Evonitz moved quicker.
His prey had escaped. Evonitz knew now that he would become the hunted.
He had to leave.
No escapeEvonitz drove the 45 miles down I-26 to Orangeburg and called his sister Kristin, who lives in nearby Irmo. Police say she met him there soon afterward.
It is unclear why Kristin Weyland helped her brother, knowing that Evonitz was wanted for rape--or worse. According to Lt. Joe Pellici of the Richland County Sheriff's Department, "She knew what was going on."
Richland County Sheriff Leon Lott said Evonitz may have even told his sister he'd killed someone in Florida; when Evonitz made this confession isn't known.
At about 5:30 p.m. that Tuesday, Weyland checked herself and Evonitz into a Days Inn along the highway in Orangeburg, according to the motel manager and law-enforcement officials. She paid cash, and booked Room 142 until Saturday.
Police think Weyland may have left shortly after helping Evonitz unpack his Escort. The room, on the ground floor like his apartment, was at the back of the motel. Out of sight of the highway.
Police believe Evonitz holed up in Room 142 all day Wednesday, using his cell phone to call his youngest sister, Jennifer Harris, who lives 500 miles to the south in Bradenton, Fla.
He'd head there.
Something spooked Evonitz the next morning, Thursday, June 27. It was already 80 degrees and humid by sunup, making everything damp. For whatever reason, he fled his room in a hurry, leaving clothes and other items on the bed. Police say it was about 10 a.m.
He stopped briefly in Hardeeville, 100 miles south of Orangeburg along the South Carolina-Georgia border. He had a straight shot down Interstate 95 to Florida, and he was still at least 90 minutes ahead of the law.
But they were closing in fast.
Around 1 p.m. Thursday, officers from Richland, Lexington County and Orangeburg zeroed in on Room 142.
The Orangeburg sheriff called the motel and asked about Evonitz. A manager there asked why, but all the sheriff told the manager was: "You want this man out of your hotel."
When they arrived, however, Evonitz was already deep into Georgia.
That evening, while driving down the interstate, Evonitz called one of his sisters--police are vague about which one. He confessed to all kinds of crimes, but gave few details.
As Evonitz entered Florida and headed down Interstate 75 toward Sarasota, he called his youngest sister. He wanted to meet her at an IHOP in Manatee County, Fla.
Harris initially agreed, police say, but soon reconsidered. She called Florida police and told them about the proposed meeting. By then it was dark, around 10:15 p.m.
Florida police found the IHOP, but Evonitz was not there. He was across the street in the parking lot of a nightclub, watching the scene from his Escort.
Police spotted his car, and when they approached, Evonitz gunned the engine and zoomed off.
The final chase had begun.
Evonitz blasted down Interstate 41, pinning his Escort's speedometer at more than 90 mph. He swerved and weaved through traffic, switching off his headlights to toughen the chase.
He succeeded in losing the Manatee County cops, but their brethren in Sarasota soon found Evonitz again.
Desperate, Evonitz crossed the median and swerved into oncoming traffic. The Escort's motor whined as it topped 100 mph.
Police needed to stop him quickly, so they laid tire-tearing spikes across the road. Evonitz careened across them, and his tires exploded. He drove on, steel tire rims clattering.
Evonitz soon found himself hemmed in at the posh Bayfront section of Sarasota. He'd make his stand in front of Marina Jack's restaurant.
When his Escort came to a halt, Evonitz drew his pistol. Fifteen officers surrounded him. Then police dogs.
No escape.
The police let loose a dog, which began biting him.
No escape.
He put the barrel of the .25 into his mouth.
No escape.
He pulled the trigger.
Boy Scout, Little LeaguerLaw-enforcement experts say Richard Marc Evonitz appears to be a classic serial killer: outwardly normal, but harboring what Richland County Sheriff Leon Lott calls "the monster" deep within him.
Neighbors, former coworkers and other associates all said Evonitz--a suspect in the slayings of 16-year-old Sofia Silva, 15-year-old Kristin Lisk and her 12-year-old sister Kati--seemed typical.
Some former neighbors said the 5-foot-9-inch 175-pounder dressed flashily, wearing jewelry or a long trench coat. Others said he favored more basic attire: golf shirts and jeans.
Colleagues say he spoke a lot about guns and could be gruff. One said Evonitz's personality reminded him of the stereotypical used-car salesman: untrustworthy.
Evonitz was a suburban man living in a suburban world. He was born in 1963 and raised outside of Columbia. Police say his parents divorced when Evonitz was young, presumably sometime after Jennifer was born in 1971.
The family moved around a lot within the area. Evonitz attended several schools, graduating from Irmo High in 1980 when he was just 16.
Other than an above-average amount of neighborhood-hopping, Evonitz was by all accounts an average kid: He was a Boy Scout, played Little League baseball, was a good student and cruised around town on a skateboard.
He skipped college and joined the Navy in February 1984. After basic training, he was sent to San Diego. Shortly after his 22nd birthday in July 1985, Evonitz was transferred to the USS Koelsch, a frigate based at Mayport Naval Station, near Jacksonville, Fla.
While aboard the Koelsch, Evonitz served as a sonar technician during the search for the remains of the space shuttle Challenger in 1986. The frigate hauled up one of the key pieces of the doomed craft, a 2.5-ton hunk that contained the cockpit.
Evonitz's first known brush with the law came in February 1987, while he was on shore leave from the Koelsch. Clay County police arrested him for masturbating in front of a 15-year-old girl while cruising in his car through a suburb of Jacksonville. Evonitz pleaded no contest to the charge.
The USS Koelsch was decommissioned and sold to Pakistan while Evonitz was undergoing psychosexual treatment administered by the Navy. He was transferred to San Diego afterward.
In August 1988, he married Bonnie Lou Gower. He was 24; she was just 17.
Little else is known about his first wife. Her Social Security number was issued in Ohio, as was that of a Betty Gower--who appears to be Bonnie's mother.
Betty lived next door to Evonitz's mother, Hester, in Irmo from 1983 to 1989. Bonnie is also listed as a resident there in 1988.
Bonnie Gower did not return phone messages left at her home in California, where she moved after divorcing Evonitz in 1999.
Evonitz served in the Navy until November 1992. He left with an honorable discharge and a Good Conduct Medal, according to a published report.
After the Navy, Evonitz moved to the Fredericksburg area, where he has relatives. Property records show his first area address as Sunburst Lane in Spotsylvania in 1993. He found a job at Kaeser Compressors in Spotsylvania.
As in his childhood, Evonitz moved a lot. Records show he lived in six different addresses in Spotsylvania and Louisa counties.
He left Kaeser in 1995 and took a job at Walter Grinders in Spotsylvania. Bonnie worked as a hairdresser.
On Sept. 9, 1996, Sofia Silva was abducted from her front porch. In mid-October, her body was found in a swamp in King George County.
The time of the slaying coincides with the collapse of Richard and Bonnie's marriage.
Bonnie Evonitz legally separated from Richard on Nov. 26, 1996. Neighbors and law-enforcement officials say she moved to California to live with a man she'd met over the Internet. Sheriff Lott believes this was "devastating" to Evonitz.
Whether Bonnie left the house before or after Silva's slaying is unclear.
Kati and Kristin Lisk disappeared eight months later, in May 1997. This would be about the time neighbors report Evonitz "bragging" about dating an 18-year-old. He was then 33.
Evonitz remarried in 1999. Several sources said he met his new bride, Hope Crowley, earlier that year at a Waffle House restaurant in Spotsylvania, where she was a waitress.
That same year, Evonitz left Walter Grinders to start his own business, which failed. The bank foreclosed on his home in Spotsylvania soon after.
Evonitz and his second wife then moved to Columbia, where he found work at Armstrong Compressed Air Services, based 80 miles away in Spartanburg.
That was two years ago.
'The Monster'Richard Marc Evonitz was a rapist and a stalker, and he may be worse.
Richland County Sheriff Leon Lott describes Evonitz's particular compulsion as "The Monster." Lott says evidence shows those urges became darker and darker as Evonitz aged.
Very little has emerged to help explain his behavior.
"He took the secret of why with him when he died," Lott said.
One clue, however, may be the police report from his arrest in 1987 for lewd and lascivious behavior with a minor.
When the girl saw what Evonitz was doing in the parked car, she started crying. Evonitz, then 23, sped off, almost hitting several boys on bicycles. One had the presence of mind to write down his license-plate number.
After his arrest, the police report says, Evonitz told officers "he has a problem with masturbating in front of girls. When he feels the urge, he drives around looking for a girl 18-19 yrs old, short in height and [who] has brunett hair."
An FBI profile described the Lisk-Silva killer as someone obsessed with teen-age girls, but with "an awkwardness or lack of success in establishing relationships with them. He would spend time driving in areas young girls could be found and be seen staring at them to the point of the girls becoming uncomfortable."
Notes found in his apartment indicate Evonitz did drive around looking for young girls. But contrary to the FBI profile, he was able to develop relationships with at least two teens. Bonnie Lou Gower was 17 when she married Evonitz; Hope Crowley was 18.
Investigators have no record of Evonitz being arrested for any crimes from 1987 to 1996, but they are searching old cases to see if he could be responsible.
Circumstantial evidence starting in 1996 does link Evonitz with the slayings of Silva and the Lisk sisters. The FBI is testing DNA and other physical evidence to determine if he was the killer.
Through evidence gathered at his apartment, Evonitz's methods have emerged. He took careful notes about girls he stalked, several of whom never saw him.
Two such girls live in Culpeper County. Evonitz noted one was brunet and "cute," and another was blond and very young. Sheriff Lott in South Carolina said notes also suggest he might have been stalking a second girl in addition to the 15-year-old he abducted. Police say they also found several examples of pornography, including child pornography, in his Columbia apartment.
Police are now trying to determine the frequency and fierceness of the urges that overtook Evonitz's life.
Sheriff Lott and other law-enforcement officials took more than 200 pieces of evidence from his apartment, but have yet to extensively interview his second wife and several other members of his family.
"We want to do the life of Mr. Evonitz," Sheriff Lott said.
For now, Evonitz's apartment at 716 Zimalcrest Drive remains as quiet as his family. Blinds drawn, door locked.
A heap of shredded business cards and handwritten notes from reporters seeking comment lies scattered on the dusty ground and in the nearby hedge.
Cigarette butts and a Corona bottle cap mark the only sign that anyone has been there since a teen-age girl ran screaming from the door.