In a Christmas phone call home, Mike told his dad, “I have two sons. I don’t need any more. Wendi’s getting her tubes tied.” He shared his plans to drive down to Boston during the January trip to visit Shirley Harvey, who was in a hospital with leukemia.
At the end of his conversation, Wendi got on the phone and talked to her father-in-law about how excited she was to be coming to Maine. She said she was really looking forward to meeting all of Mike’s family and friends.
Mike got a break from his congested and chaotic home life after Christmas. On December 29, he and Derrick Fesmire traveled to Wichita Falls near the Red River, the natural barrier that divides Texas and Oklahoma. They participated in a two-week Air Force leadership training course.
While Mike was gone, Wendi was in charge of getting everything ready for a trip to Maine. Before Mike left, she’d blocked out the dates on the office calendar—no appointments, no boarders while they were gone.
The airline tickets were purchased. Mike coordinated their arrival with his dad. Everyone was expecting them. Mike thought Wendi was excited about the upcoming trip—her first outside of Texas in her whole life. Yet she did no packing and made no personal preparations.
They were scheduled to fly to Bangor in the early morning hours of January 16. Living in Texas all of their lives, neither Wendi nor her children had adequate clothing in their wardrobe for a mid-winter excursion that far north. But while Mike was away, Wendi didn’t do any shopping. She bought no cold-weather gear—not for herself, not for either one of the kids. Was she really planning on making the trip?
On January 5, other trouble was brewing in the Davidson family. Judy paid a visit to her stepfather, Emmett Eggemeyer. Emmett had married Judy’s mother, Jessie Mae Elliott, nineteen years earlier after the death of Judy’s father. Now, Jessie Mae was bedridden and dying of cancer.
Judy told him how much she hated Mike and how she wished he were dead. Then, she tried to bully Emmett into giving her control over her mother and her mother’s finances, both before and after her death. Emmett did not oblige.
On January 11, Judy visited her ailing mother and, according to Emmett, tricked the frail woman into signing papers giving Lloyd and Judy power of attorney and making them co-executors of Jessie Mae’s estate. When Emmett learned what she had done, he was furious at Judy’s manipulation of his helpless wife.
Mike returned from training on January 12, excited about the trip back home. He was looking forward to seeing his family, but what he talked about the most was Tristan. It would be the young boy’s first chance to see snow when he traveled to Maine. Mike called home frequently to check on the weather. He couldn’t wait to share this experience with his stepson. He planned to take him sledding and teach him how to make snowballs and build a snow fort.
The only cloud hanging over the anticipated trip was Wendi. Since his return from Wichita Falls, Mike was puzzled at how distant she seemed—not willing to talk or warm up to him at all. She didn’t seem pleased that he’d returned home. He called his dad, chatted about the weather in Maine and the travel plans. Then, he shared his concern about Wendi giving him the cold shoulder.
He didn’t know that during his absence, his mother-in-law had worked overtime to poison Wendi’s mind against him, his family and the trip back East. Judy and Lloyd were adamant in their opposition to the planned visit to Mike’s home state. Judy tried to discourage Wendi from going through with the trip. “It’s not going to be good for business. You’re just opening and now you’re closing down for a week. It’s bad business.”
“Hey, it’s just one week,” Wendi said. “Things can wait. I’ll be back.”
When that argument didn’t work, Judy tried emotional warfare. She planted the suspicion in Wendi’s mind that a conspiracy was afoot. Judy warned Wendi that the Severance family might not let her come back to Texas, or wouldn’t let her bring Shane home. Although Judy had no proof to reinforce her theory, she’d always been a destructive influence on Wendi’s thinking.
On the morning of January 13, Mike helped Wendi out at the clinic. He carried a puppy back for an x-ray. He set the animal, attached to an IV, on an examination table and walked out of the room. He returned immediately and was chastised by Wendi. “Are you just going to leave the puppy on the table by itself?” She lit into him, calling him stupid. Her outburst distressed Shane, who fussed and cried in response.
Without saying a word, Mike picked up the little dog and placed him in a crate. He then got Shane and drove off to visit friends in Abilene without telling Wendi where he was going.
A little while later, Wendi went into the apartment looking for him. He wasn’t there and neither was the baby. She went outside and saw that Mike’s pick-up truck was gone. She called Mike’s cell phone, but he didn’t answer. She instantly became distraught and burst into tears. “Maybe they’ve been in a wreck. Maybe they’re on the side of the road somewhere,” she moaned to her mother. “Why would he take off with the baby?”
Judy had nothing worthwhile to offer—no comfort, just another venomous remark about her son-in-law. Wendi called Mike again. This time he answered. “Where are you?”
“I’m in Abilene visiting some friends. We’ll be back soon.”
By 4:30, he was home, and the two children headed out the door with Judy. Lately, Wendi’s parents had kept the boys overnight three or four times a week. Mike was not pleased with the frequency, but what Judy wanted, Judy got. He knew better than to engage in a battle he could not win with his mother-in-law.
Friday morning, Judy returned to the clinic with her grandchildren in tow. Wendi kept busy all day, examining her furry patients, handing out medications to their owners, performing surgery and continuing Jamie’s training as a veterinary assistant.
Mike made arrangements for repairs to his truck. Someone had rammed into the side of the bed and left an unsightly dent. Mike thought the best time to get the work done was while they were away. He made an appointment to drop the pick-up off at a body shop on Saturday morning. He also contacted the insurance company, setting up the free replacement car rental for use in Maine rather than Texas.
Since Wendi and Mike knew they had to stay home Saturday night because of their early flight Sunday morning, they wanted to go out for dinner and dancing Friday evening. Wendi asked Jamie if she could baby-sit the boys.
“Why are you asking Jamie?” Judy wanted to know.
“You had them last night, Mom. It’s too hard on you to have them two nights in a row.”
“Well, let me take Tristan. Jamie’s young and inexperienced. The two of them are too much for her.”
When the clinic closed, Judy left with her older grandson and Jamie took the baby. Mike called Derrick and Julie Fesmire, asking them if they wanted to come down for a night of dancing. The Abilene couple couldn’t get a sitter on the short notice. Within days, regret for not making it down to San Angelo that night piled up high on Derrick’s shoulders.
Wendi and Mike went across the street and had dinner at Buffalo Wild Wings, leaving the restaurant at 7:40. After dinner, Wendi and Mike went to Graham Central Station, where they danced and had a few drinks. They crossed the street to the clinic. Between the beer and his excitement about the upcoming trip, Mike was exuberant and full of wild energy. He jumped in his pick-up and drove in crazy circles around the parking lot.
Wendi went inside. The truth of what happened in the next twenty-four hours remains unclear, but based on the evidence later compiled and examined, the state of Texas was able to reconstruct what they suspect happened.
Inside the apartment, Wendi poured a beer for her husband. Then she dropped five veterinary phenobarbital pills into his drink. The drug was highly soluble and the strong flavor of the beer easily overrode the medicinal taste. It was not a fatal dose, but it was enough to ensure eight to twelve hours of deep sleep.
A grinning Mike came through the door and downed his beer. He undressed and collapsed on the bed. Wendi waited until she was certain that he was unconscious. Then she slammed a syringe full of Beuthanasia-D, a common veterinary euthanizing solution, into her husband’s chest. The liquid contained a lethal dose of pentobarbital diluted with phenytoin, a substance added to drop the active agent from a schedule two down to a schedule three narcotic (a restriction affecting wholesale purchasing). It would be only a matter of time before the drugs shut down his respiratory function and his heart.
There was only one more thing Wendi needed to do—dispose of the body of the man she’d promised to love and cherish “till death do us part.”