Murdered Innocents (10 page)

 

The lawsuits began.

The week kicked off with the arbitration hearing of Sergeant Hector Polanco. The former yogurt task force supervisor initiated proceedings against the Austin Police Department after he was indefinitely suspended for the William Redman case. Polanco levied charges of racism against his employer. He emphasized the fact that he, a Hispanic, had been suspended, while Sergeant Brent McDonald, a Caucasian, only received a reprimand. Polanco desired to regain his position back in the police department.

On Wednesday, the parents of the murdered girls filed a lawsuit against Brice Foods, owners of I Can’t Believe It’s Yogurt, under the Texas Wrongful Death Statute and the Texas Survival Statute. Also named in the lawsuit were Rockwood Plaza Associates Ltd. and Charles Morrison, of Morrison Properties, owners of the Hillside Center.

The suit, filed by Jeff Rusk, of Shields & Rusk, PC, stated that “the owners of the yogurt shop knew of the security problems . . . but they did nothing to protect these children.”

Rusk contended that there had been a rash of crimes in the West Anderson Lane area prior to the murders. The suit stated that the listed parties were negligent in not providing security, keeping the store open until late in the night when most other stores in the strip center were closed, and in staffing the shop with teenage girls late at night.

Representatives from Brice Foods were reluctant to speak about the lawsuit. A few weeks earlier, one official from the company told an Austin television station that “the yogurt store employees were briefed about security one week before the killings.”

All calls made to the corporate headquarters in Dallas in regard to the lawsuit were forwarded to an Austin attorney named Carl Pierce. Pierce acknowledged the tragedy, yet he refused to comment on specifics of the suit.

“I will say that any allegation of wrongdoing will be denied,” claimed Pierce.

The families insisted that they were not after money. They were angry that Brice Foods had done nothing to improve security in the area in the more than one year since the murders.

“While no money will fully compensate for the loss of their children, perhaps it will serve to deter these defendants,” the lawsuit stated, “and set an example to others who place a higher value on their image and financial considerations than the health and well-being of their employees and their customers.”

The amount of damages sought by the families was not specified.

Some people in Austin were not so sure of the purity of the parents’ motives. Ted Willmore, a senior music major at the University of Texas, questioned the parents in an editorial in the
Daily Texan
, the campus student newspaper.

“It seems that out of frustration the parents have struck out for retribution.” Willmore was not kind to Rusk. “Jeff Rusk is the local lawyer who smelled a sure-fire multimillion dollar settlement and went in for the kill.”

Willmore appeared to feel sorry for the companies; he wrote, “The defendants are not likely to go to court—they would be perceived as evil corporate monsters, insensitive to the human suffering involved.

“Settlement is virtually guaranteed, allowing Rusk to reap millions.”

Willmore also questioned the judgment of the parents. “The parents claim that it was dangerous to have only two female teens working at night in the shop. If they actually believed this, it seems that they should have insisted that their children quit the job.”

The editorial insinuated that businesses should not be liable for the actions of criminals. “Draining the coffers of the defendants,” Willmore posited, “is not the way to promote social change in this case.” He stressed that change could only take place through activism, such as the example of Candy Lightner, founder of Mothers Against Drunk Drivers (MADD). In 1980, Lightner’s thirteen-year-old daughter, Cari, was murdered by a drunk driver, fifty-two-year-old Clarence Busch, in Fair Oaks, California. MADD, of course, has gone on to promote awareness of drunk driving and has potentially saved thousands of lives.

“It is a pity,” wrote Willmore, “that the girls died. But their parents should drop this suit in favor of effective social action.

“The only outcomes of this suit will be a large cash settlement for the parents—not to mention their attorney—and a slight but barely perceptible loss of public sympathy.”

 

Reality began to set in for Sergeant John Jones, Detective Mike Huckabay, and the rest of the yogurt shop task force. After one year and three months and more than five thousand tips, they received word that the task force would have to be reduced. A cost/benefit analysis indicated that the task force was a losing proposition. They had until June to solve the case before cutbacks were made.

To help make a last-ditch effort, six more police officers were added to the team. The total number of officers involved rose to eighteen.

They had less than three months to get the work done.

The goal was to plow through as many of the remaining two-thousand-plus tips as possible.

Austin police lieutenant David Parkinson spoke about the imminent shutdown of the task force. “The only way you can face this is by thinking that someday, somewhere, you’ll find information that leads to solving it.”

Optimism still remained.

“Who knows, with five thousand tips, we may be down to five hundred seventy-three and solve it. All we can do is try.”

 

 

A fair-size group of mourners gathered outside, across the paved street, from the I Can’t Believe It’s Yogurt building. Sprinkled amongst the crowd were family members of the four girls. They had gathered yet again to honor their daughters, Amy, Sarah, Jennifer, and Eliza.

Yogurt shop patron Neil Stegall wanted to dedicate something special for the two girls he knew as the friendly employees behind the counter—a pink granite “remembrance stone,” measuring twenty by twenty-eight inches. On the face of the stone was a gold-colored plaque with a maroon inlay with the inscription
IN LOVING MEMORY—AMY AYERS—SARAH HARBISON—JENNIFER HARBISON—ELIZA THOMAS—FOREVER IN OUR HEARTS.
The stone was set in a white rock garden inside a white small wooden fence. An oak tree stood watch.

 

 

Two months after the memorial ceremony, a rather unceremonious occasion took place; the official reduction of the yogurt shop murders task force. The additional officers that were brought in were unable to crack the case. Cuts had to be made. The task force was reduced in size from eighteen people to five. Sergeant Jones remained as case agent.

“We are currently working on what we consider to be ten to fifteen solid . . . leads concerning the case,” Jones informed local reporters. He stated that more than fifteen hundred tips were to be looked into. He also mentioned the Hispanic suspects. “The investigation is still open despite the perception that the guys in Mexico did it and that’s that,” he replied. “Well, no, the jury is still out on that. And until it is proven to our satisfaction, the investigation continues.”

Lieutenant David Parkinson informed the media that “it is still a priority to solve this case.”

The families spoke with the task force about the reduction. They were concerned, but understanding. Skip Suraci relayed that the families “were all pretty upset,” but pleased that the police department assured them that “we are still a priority case, not just for the one investigator. . . but for the whole force.”

The revised staff included Jones, Huckabay, one full-time investigative assistant, and two part-time investigators.

The support for the girls continued to resonate throughout the Austin community—sometimes in a very traditional manner, sometimes in a uniquely Austin manner, sometimes in a wholly bizarre manner.

The traditional recognition took place at the St. Louis Catholic Church, where three of the girls attended church (Amy Ayers was not Catholic) and where Sarah and Jennifer graduated from junior high school. A memorial plaque in honor of the four girls was introduced. The plaque dedicated all of the youth rooms in the church on behalf of the girls. In addition, officials from the church planted a strong oak tree behind the school office building.

The uniquely Austin-style remembrance actually came a year earlier from a group of musicians led by two Joes: Joe Ely and Joe “King” Carrasco. Ely, the eclectic country-rocker, and Carrasco, the “Tex-Mex Party King,” joined forces to pen a song entitled “We Will Not Forget.” In a “We Are the World”–type setup, the recording included several musicians and local media personalities. The musicians gave the rights of the song to the families to do with what they wished. Proceeds of the song benefited Child, Inc.

The bizarre remembrance of the case came from a local punk band known as the Fuckemos. The band, formerly known as Warthog 2001, changed its name to the Fuckemos after its lead singer, Russell Porter, was unceremoniously tossed out of Emo’s, the long-standing punk rock venue and hipster hangout.

With such song titles as “Pedophile,” “2 Punk 2 Fuck,” and “The Screams of the Wild Women,” the Fuckemos were not known for their restraint.

Obviously.

Porter was also intrigued by conspiracy theories. The yogurt shop case held an unusual fascination for him. The band recorded a song about the case entitled “YM.”

“The song’s not that deep, but it hits close to home.” Porter commented that several people in the club scene were being unfairly brought in for questioning. The band wanted to poke fun at the Austin Police Department for going down the “scary-looking-kid route.” Lyrically, the song talks about the wide range of potential suspects and how the cops seemed to have no clue.

The chorus of the song goes: “I know who killed the girls. But I’m not telling you.”

 

The task force was also rather low-key. Since the reduction in staff, not much progress had been made. While the current team continued to plow through tips, they did not completely write off Porfirio Saavedra and Alberto Cortez. Even though the bikers confessed to the murders one year earlier, then recanted, Austin police were still considering them as possible suspects.

Lieutenant David Parkinson and two other Austin police detectives returned to Mexico, this time hopefully armed with evidence to implicate the two men.

“They want to prove what the suspects confessed to,” stated Jaime Gonzalez, attaché to the Mexican attorney general. He stated that the Austin police were not prepared the previous year when they visited Mexico; that they did not bring any proof. “Now they want to make sure that they have a good case.”

Police were not so sure that the trip would amount to anything.

“We don’t have more or less evidence than we had a year ago,” an unnamed inside source told the
Austin American-Statesman
. “At some point we may eliminate them, but I don’t think we’re at the point of saying, ‘Let’s move on,’ with these guys.”

The uncertainty of the status of their daughters’ cases began to creep into the parents’ words. “I hope they figure something out,” stated Maria Thomas. “A lot of people think it’s them, but we don’t know for sure.”

Barbara Suraci feared learning more about how exactly her daughters were killed. “I have not dealt with how my children died yet. I’m not ready to think about what they were thinking and how scared they were.”

 

For the second year in a row, a group of people gathered outside the former location of I Can’t Believe It’s Yogurt to remember the four girls. The crowd was not quite as large as the previous year; however, the impact of their loss was evident.

Pam Ayers, Amy’s mother, spoke of how those not related to the girls were able to move forward. “For a lot of people, they’re aware it happened, but their lives can still go on.” She harbored no resentment toward people who had “moved on.”

“I know they think about it, but it’s not the daily agony we all have to deal with.”

Earlier that Monday morning, Barbara and Skip Suraci attended mass for the four girls at St. Albert the Great Catholic Church, where Sarah had attended during her preparation for confirmation.

“She was murdered before she could be confirmed,” informed Barbara Suraci.

The gathering, however, was not to continue to mourn the girls’ deaths, but to celebrate the bright light that was their lives. Friends reminisced about the fun times they had with the girls.

“I would much rather spend my time talking about Jennifer and Sarah than talking about how they died,” Barbara Suraci stated. The brave, elegant woman smiled and gave strong hugs to friends and supporters as she entered the chapel.

Later, at the candlelight vigil held at the Hillside Center, two of the mothers spoke out about the investigation. Pam Ayers feared that someone else may be killed. “Whoever did it is still out there, and it could happen again. And somebody else is going to have to go through what we’re going through.”

Barbara Suraci announced that the coffers of the reward money had been stuffed with an additional $25,000, bringing the total to $125,000. “We want to encourage people to give us a Christmas present.”

The two mothers spoke of how their lives had changed forever. “We’ll never be the same,” a wistful Pam Ayers stated. “Whoever did this is still out there probably still enjoying themselves. They’re able to live with what they’ve done, and they have ruined my family.”

“We’re not the same people we were,” added Barbara Suraci. “We were very busy people. We had teenagers. They were involved in everything in their schools. Our whole life revolved around them.

“Our whole life is now revolving around their memory.”

The parents, however, were not there for a pity party. They continued to stress the need for someone to step forward and provide some pertinent information.

“I have said from the beginning that I thought this would be a two-year process,” Barbara Suraci said. “I don’t think it will be [today], but I do think it will be soon.”

Pam Ayers was not quite as optimistic. “I used to think they are going to solve it. Now, I don’t think so. We’re getting too far down the road.” She feared the only way it would come to an end would be for another person to be killed.

Barbara Suraci was determined to keep a positive face on the tragic anniversary. “There are moments of these two years that have been filled with pain and anxiety that have lasted a lifetime. The moments are eternity and the years are just a blink.

“I believe that we can, as individuals, make a difference. We can help each other, support each other.” Her goal was to help other children who had suffered at the hands of violence, and those who may dole it out. “We can take care of all the children so that no one’s child falls through the cracks and ends up on the streets with a gun and a broken heart.” She emphasized that it was the kids who “have not been loved enough or cared [for] enough” who usually committed violent crimes.

“With that in mind, I will continue to have this little crusade to save all the kids.” Barbara Suraci spoke with no bitterness in her heart. “I know that sounds optimistic and probably silly to a lot of people, but I think it’s important that I remain optimistic.

“Because as long as there is hope, we will survive.”