CHAPTER 25

“David told me he was in some kind of satanic group and that they had been watching me for a long time and they wanted me for a sex toy.”
Kelli Garrett testifying to Jim Yontz
July 6th, 2000

In New Mexico you can wear your gun in your holster and your holster on your hip and walk down any street in any town. You can walk into a bar, but you just can’t walk into a grocery store “packing,” as they say. Jim Yontz, never trusting too many people, kept a .357 Magnum in the trunk of his car, along with all the boxes of notes he needed to use in the prosecution of David Ray. In the courtroom itself, his only weapon was his tie.
On Wednesday afternoon, July 5, he was wearing a navy blue suit, dark blue shirt and a light blue tie sporting three mean-looking maroon grizzly bears. Rein showed up a “sharp-dressed man” wearing a charcoal gray suit, minus earrings. David Parker Ray enjoyed another day in “civvies,” a benefit enjoyed by many felons who, according to Yontz, “get a kick” out of going to court because they get to wear street clothes again. “Felons don’t make deals before a trial,” he tells people, “To them, it’s like going on vacation.” Ray was still looking pale and attached to the green oxygen canister, and the jurors seemed to be looking over to see if he was going to keel over and kick the bucket right there on the spot.
Yontz kicked off the afternoon by calling two more state cops to lay the foundation for the first public viewing of the six-minute videotape—the one David Ray had forgotten to erase from the longer tape found in the toy box. Soft-spoken John Briscoe testified: “I was the first person to go inside the white cargo trailer just before the videotape was discovered.” He went on to say, “Agent John Schum of the FBI seized all the videotapes for the laboratory in Quantico.”
The straitlaced state trooper K. C. Rogers told the jury how he set up a command post in Elephant Butte to help coordinate the NMSP part of the investigation. He testified that he had seen the videotape “forty or fifty times” and “it was fairly apparent that Kelli was not a willing participant.” He also explained how the police identified Kelli from the videotape.
“At the time we thought the tattoo on her right ankle at first looked like a peacock, but later we determined it was a swan. The ID was very difficult. Her legs were spread wide apart and only a fraction of the tattoo could be seen on her ankle.”
Rogers then went on to explain how the police used the FBI Rapid Start System (computerized information about potential crime victims) and came up with the first name Kelli. Rogers did a cross-reference of “Kelli and white female” and came up with the tip phoned in by Kelli’s mother-in-law, Janet Murphy. Murphy had told the FBI that the woman then known as Kelli Van Cleave had several tattoos, including a swan on her ankle. Rogers tracked Kelli down in Craig, Colorado.
“I contacted Kelli via telephone. You have to be careful when you’re contacting a victim. You don’t want them to ‘build on’ the information you give them and give it back to you. I asked her if she’d lived in Truth or Consequences in 1996. I asked her if she knew David Ray. I asked her how she was dressed back on July 25, 1996. I asked her if she had a swan tattoo on her right ankle. As soon as I was sure she was the woman in the video and the woman described by the mother-in-law, I told her we had pictures of her and that it might bother her to look at those pictures. I asked her if she’d be willing to talk to two investigators and then I called NMSP agent Carrie Parbs and the FBI and told them to go to Colorado and talk to her. I didn’t know the FBI had already talked to her two weeks before I did.”
With preliminary background information out of the way, Yontz stood up, ready to show the brief videotape. As he held the tape in his left hand, he watched the jurors carefully, somehow managing to look each one right in the eye. Ron Lopez positioned the rolling cart carrying the VCR and small twenty-one-inch television screen ten feet in front of the jury. Mertz moved and sat in the witness chair so he could get a better look, and the only person in the hushed chamber who was not in a position to look at the videotape was David himself.
All eighteen jurors leaned forward in their seats, many of them with pencils in hand, ready to take notes for the first time in the trial. Jurors ranged in age from twenty-one to sixty-one and there were ten men and eight women. Sixty percent of the residents of New Mexico are Hispanic and the jury reflected the geography of the state as well as Rio Arriba County. The fate of David Ray was in the hands of the following eighteen people:

Cheri Archuletta
Phyllis Ortiz
Amanda Garcia
Annie Vasquez
Simon Martinez
Raymond Lujan
Frank Sandoval
Reynaldo Chavez
Donald Archuletta
Carla Leivas
David Maestas
Stella Randall
Cynthia Gallegos
Deborah Cordova
Enriques Sanchez
Robert Lucero
Jonathan Kingson
Mark LeDoux

Jim Yontz strolled over and put the videotape in the VCR and pushed PLAY. At first the jurors could only see and hear David Ray doing sound checks. His voice was not timid at all, but assertive and knowledgeable about electronics. He was trying to get his camera positioned just right so the angle for future viewing would be satisfying for him when he later decided to look at his work.
Everyone watched, waiting for the action. The scene spliced to a monotonous shot of the soundproof ceiling inside the toy box. Yontz made no attempt to speed up the viewing. Mertz asked Yontz how many minutes the jury would have to spend staring at the ceiling of the white cargo trailer.
“About thirty minutes,” Yontz answered calmly.
Mertz ordered him to fast-forward the tape, and a few awkward minutes later, at 3:21 P.M., Yontz told everyone the long-awaited segment was ready for everyone to see.
The camera-eye view of Kelli Garrett was no less than a “crotch shot,” filmed from a camera mounted up near the ceiling. The jury saw twenty-two-year-old Kelli, naked, strapped “spread eagle” to a black leather weight bench and tied down with red plastic straps. Her legs were positioned wide apart, knees up in the air, her ankles in stirrups. Her arms were tied down behind and above her head. There was a two-inch-wide piece of gray duct tape over her mouth and another two-inch-wide piece of tape over her eyes.
She appeared to be dazed and confused, moving her head slowly from side to side.
David Ray was dressed in blue jeans, black cowboy boots and a blue-and-white vertical-striped cowboy shirt—not tucked into his pants but hanging outside. He was talking to Kelli, but the videotape had no sound and nobody could read his lips. He walked over to her from the left side and put his middle finger of his right hand up inside her vagina, acting like he was a doctor examining her. Then he used both hands to rub her breasts. Following that, he knelt on the floor and fondled her belly with both hands, and this time he leaned over her and slid the first two fingers of his right hand in and out of her vagina. Then he stood up, walked around to her other side and checked the duct tape on her face. The tape over her eyes and mouth had come loose and he fastened it down. He stood up and pawed her breasts again. She moved her head from side to side, as if to say no.
He walked around to between her legs and stroked the inside of her uplifted legs, checking the tie-downs on her ankles and the red straps over her upper legs. He fastened the strap on her right leg and then fastened the strap on her left leg. He then took off the square-rimmed glasses and laid them down on a nearby table.
Now he walked back up to her head and got behind her so he could unfasten her hands. First the right wrist, then the left. She moved her arms slowly and then rubbed her sore wrists. The tape ended with her crossing her arms over her breasts and then putting both hands over her face, as if to “hide.”
David was standing and talking down to her, but the jury still couldn’t read his lips.
Yontz turned off the television set at 3:27 P.M. and many jurors had their heads down, taking notes. One juror, Phyllis Ortiz, was not taking notes at all. All the women on the jury were wearing black. Mertz could tell everyone was emotionally drained, so he called off court in the middle of the afternoon and excused the jury, once more reminding them not to talk to anyone about the case. He reminded them that court would resume hearing witnesses at 8:30 A.M., Thursday, July 6.
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Patrick Murphy was the first witness the following day. He was married to Kelli for thirteen days back in 1996. Yontz and Rein videotaped their deposition with him in Mertz’s courtroom in Socorro back on April 13 and the jury saw that testimony. Patrick was wearing his white navy uniform and was Hollywood handsome at twenty-four years old. He showed no nervousness about having to answer questions about his love life as a young man back in the summer of 1996—when he was only twenty years old.

I’m stationed now on the USS Santini, an attack cruiser, in San Diego, California.
I met Kelli late in the spring of 1996. I was having a beer with my friend Jay at a place called Raymond’s bar in T or C. I took one look at her and I said, “Hi, how’re ya doin’?” We just hit it off—right away. She told me she had these tattoos and she showed me her tattoos and I showed her mine.
[Patrick smiled, remembering the Mickey Mouse tattoo on her left breast.]
She’d say, “I’ve got a mouse—would you like to see it?”
We spent the next couple of weeks together. It was kind of an understanding that we were a “thing.” She liked to ride in my Jeep. She was out of work and living outside of town with some friends in a trailer. As far as the trailer was concerned, it was in bad shape. She had some money in the bank, but I told her that sooner or later the money was gonna run out.
“You gotta think of the future,” I said.
I was staying with my parents at the time, and so I’d bring her over and we’d hang out. My mom thought she was a nice person but hung out with the wrong group of people. Kelli was hanging out with bums—a lot of burned-out druggies, friends of Jesse Ray. She and my mom, well, they had a strange relationship. Kinda like a mother and a daughter. It was weird.
I liked Kelli. I never did see her drunk, and she didn’t use drugs. I liked that. Her nickname was “Sassy”—she’s just one of those women who doesn’t mind being sassy with you. At the time I drank a lot of alcohol and one day I made it real clear how I felt. I said, “Alcohol’s all right, but this drug stuff is illegal.” I couldn’t afford to mess up my career in the navy. I was real stern when I told her, “I don’t do those things,” and I told her we would be all over as a couple if she did drugs. She understood.
One afternoon, in July, we were just drivin’ down the road and I looked over and asked her if she wanted to get married. She looked at me and said, “You’re jokin’, aren’t you?” I told her I didn’t want to know anything about her childhood and I didn’t want her to know anything about mine.
“This is ground zero,” I said.
We got married the next day. My mom was “floored” that I was gettin’ married. Me and Kelli moved into my parents’ house and it was a few days after we got married that all the trouble started. We had a big argument over sex. It hurt her to have intercourse. The night before she vanished, I “laid into her” about it. She didn’t want to have intercourse. Something in her made it painful. That night she just watched television all night and fell asleep on the living-room couch.
The next morning she left around nine or ten. I got real pissed-off about the situation—started ranting and raving—and then I drank a lot. The whole rest of that day, I drank a lot more. I went to the VFW Hall and I drank a lot. I went to Raymond’s bar and they told me she was at the bowling alley. I was underage and one other time I’d been kicked out, so I went out to Hot Springs Cove and looked for her there. I drank some more alcohol and fell asleep on the beach.
I woke up in the middle of the night thinking about her.
That morning when she left, she had shorts on, shoes, a wedding ring, a bracelet and her hair was all fixed up—my little sister, Kimberley, had braided it that morning. Her hair was all over her head, like a little poodle.
The next morning, I got up and vomited, and went home. I tried calling missing persons. I filed a missing-persons report with the local police department. Then I went out and drank a lot more beer.
Later that day, Cassandra Witt called me up with information about where Kelli was (getting stoned with her friends) and I went over to see Cassy. She told me Kelli was over at the bowling alley and some guy in a red truck was trying to “hit on her.” Some guy named Todd. I took Cassy over to talk to my parents. Looking back on it, I think she was trying to form a wedge between me and Kelli. I left when Cassy was talking to my family. She was just sittin’ around telling my mom some nonsense about me and Kelli.
Cassy was always telling me my marriage was too much like a fantasy—you know—the prince takes Kelli from this godforsaken town and finally gets her out of the slum of Truth or Consequences and off to California.
By the end of the day on Saturday, I thought Kelli had left me for good. I made plans to dissolve the marriage per the “How to Get a Divorce” guide. Cassy actually was the one who showed me where to get all the paperwork to file for a divorce. Most of the rest of the day, I just went out target-shooting with me and my rifle.
After that, I just went back to drinking a lot of beer.
About nine or ten o’clock Sunday morning, Kelli shows up with Jesse Ray’s dad, David Ray. He’s driving a company truck and wearin’ his forest ranger outfit—beige-style shirt, long brown pants and boots. Cassy was in the house and I wanted her to confront Kelli. When she saw Kelli and David, she freaked out. She got scared—I thought she was gonna piss her pants. She went into the back room and hid, and the last thing I heard her say was, “Oh, shit, Kelli’s here!”
Kelli got out of the truck and went over and sat on our porch. She was “out of it.” She wasn’t of a sound mind, that’s for sure. She wasn’t wearing shoes or her wedding ring or her bracelet. Her hair looked real messed up. She had body odor and the whole thing wasn’t like her at all.
At home she “lived” in the shower—took two or three showers a day.
I was instantly infuriated. Pissed. Enraged with the whole situation. It looked like she was under the influence of a narcotic or something. She was dazed, tired, mopey—out of it. Mr. Ray said he’d found her on the beach and took her out for a sugared-up cup of coffee before bringing her home. I believed him because his daughter was Kelli’s good friend and he had just brought back my soon-to-be ex-wife. He told me he found her layin’ in the sand at a Hot Springs beach. The whole thing struck me as odd. This would have never been possible with the person I thought I knew.
If someone is layin’ there in the sand, you’re gonna have sand on your body.
She didn’t.
All this time she sounded very sad. She kept putting her hands on her head. She had bumps on her head and at one point she started crying—she was almost in a state of what I would call “pure crying.” All she could remember was going off with Jesse and then coming back to our place—three days later. There was nothing in between. When my mom asked her where she’d been she kept saying the same thing over and over.
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t know.”
“I can’t remember.”
The next day she came back with one of her friends to get her toothbrush and stuff. Most of our conversation was real heated. It was mostly me being a smart ass. I had to get out of there. I was gettin’ hotheaded. I was beyond reasoning.
A few days later I got together with Cassy Witt and we got married—I think it was July 31, right before I had to go back to San Diego. The marriage only lasted six months. On October 11 I left for the Persian Gulf and when I came back six months later I was in financial ruin.
She wrote several thousand dollars in bad checks.
She wrecked my Jeep.
She ruined my credit card.
Once I got rid of Cassy, I realized I’d made a great mistake when I dumped Kelli. I went back to T or C in April of 1997, and Kelli and I tried to get back together again. She moved into our house for a while. A week later, my mother told me Kelli was still hanging out with Jesse Ray, so I broke it off. After that spring, I . . . I just tried to forget about Kelli. I knew we were all washed up.
I just returned to California and went on with my life.