The last days of Richard Marc Evonitz, suspect in the Lisk-Silva slayings
Patty
As Evonitz's portrait emerges, reasons still elude
The last days of Richard Marc Evonitz. A portrait slowly emerges of
the suspect in the Lisk-Silva slayings.
By HANK SHAW
The Free Lance-Star
7/7/2002
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.
Frenzied final days for the suspect
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 escape
Evonitz 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 Leaguer
Law-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.