by Gregg Olsen
“You’re the only one. None of these children will come in here and say they spoke to your wife that night?”
“Not that morning.”
“Nobody? The last person to see your wife alive is you?”
“That’s right.”
Leonard wanted to show that the timeline of the early morning of June 2 was shaky. He pointed out that some of Barb’s texts to Eli overlapped with his supposedly still being asleep.
“Okay. Now we had some discussions and Ms. Boyle asked you about the timing of some of these messages. She asked you about some texts that occurred at almost 3:30. And the questions were if you recalled making these discussions. Something about being able to see in the dark and ‘I don’t know if I can. It’s scary.’ Do you remember that?”
“Yes.”
“Well, what’s interesting is the first time that that conversation takes place is 3:03 a.m., okay. Now, you’ve just testified under oath that at that point in time you had overslept. You were sleeping. You were getting up to answer the door, right?”
“Yes.”
“Also let’s go backtracking a little bit further. Because even before that while you’re sleeping there’s questions that come through at 2:20, 2:21, and all this is time when you’re sleeping, right?”
“Does it say that I answered them?”
“We’ll get to that. But I’m just saying that these questions, these discussions, all occurred while you were sleeping, right? Okay, let’s see here. So your testimony is that Barb Raber is the one that killed your wife?”
“Yes.”
“You just kind of didn’t care one way or the other if it happened or not. That you gave her all these detailed instructions to do it while you were sleeping and while you were in a vehicle with other people. So let’s cut to the chase here. During the time that you’ve indicated you were sleeping and later eating with your friends there appears to be a lengthy detailed discussion via text message about killing your wife with Ms. Raber. Your testimony is that that’s accurate, right?”
“That’s accurate.”
Leonard continued working to show that Eli was minimizing his involvement in his wife’s murder, that he knew a good offer when he heard one and had a lot to gain by avoiding a trial.
“You had the opportunity of course to take a plea deal, right?”
“Yes.”
“And you know you were originally facing a legitimate possibility under Ohio law of no possibility of a parole date? You’re aware of that, right?”
“Yes.”
“You were originally charged with what?”
“Aggravated murder.”
“And what else with the aggravated murder?”
“With gun specs.”
“There’s a gun specification, right?”
“Yes.”
“And under the Ohio law you could have been given up to life without the possibility of parole, correct?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t like that did you?”
“Nobody does.”
“So you actually talked to your attorney and your attorney was able to get you a deal where what’s your sentence now expected to be?”
“It’s no deal. I mean, we still got to do…”
“It’s certainly no deal for others involved. Let’s talk about you. What’s the sentence you’ve been told you’re going to get?”
“Fifteen to life.”
“Okay, so that’s a whole lot different than never, ever, ever being able to say that you’re going to get out, right?”
“Yes.”
“You’re how old?”
“Thirty.”
“So your parole date could be about when you’re about 45?”
“Could.”
Neither Mark nor Steve would look forward to the day Eli was paroled. Would he be angry at them for cooperating with the police? Would they be expected to wave and say hello when they ran into him at the market or at an auction? Would he return to the Amish community at all?
“And I’m sure that you’re going to be able to argue to the parole board about how cooperative you were with the police once you made the deal and how you sat down and you came in and you testified and you were able to put Barb Raber, the co-defendant, behind bars with you, right?”
“It’s going to be by the grace of God when I get out.”
“I’m sorry?”
“It’s going to be by the grace of God when I get out.”
Leonard wanted the jury to remember that Eli was the last person to see his wife alive.
“When you left the house on a stormy night there was a child on the couch, a child on the recliner I believe, and a baby in the baby’s room all on the main floor, correct?”
“Yes.”
Leonard was still hammering home his theory that Eli had killed his wife, and Barb was taking the fall for it. Both Eli and Barb were focused on how his cell phone could lead police to him. If Barb was guilty of anything, it was of helping Eli cover up his involvement in his wife’s murder.
“So let me get this straight,” the defense lawyer said. “You said you left at 3:00. The only person who could testify that your wife was alive is you?”
Eli nodded. “Yes,” he said.
“And the fact of the matter is the reason that you’re the last person to see your wife alive is because you’re the person that killed her?”
Eli held firm to his contention. “No,” he said.
“You killed her and you knew doggone well that you could point some fingers at other people?”
“No.”
“And you figured that when your wife’s body was found you would be up at Lake Erie and you could pretend to be all surprised and grieving and remorseful and I can’t believe this happened, but you’d be okay because you were free and nobody would find out you were involved? You figured you could—if all else fails you could put the blame on Barb Raber didn’t you?”
Eli could only say one word: “No.”
Leonard continued to try to crack Eli’s impenetrable facade.
“You killed your wife,” the defense lawyer said. “You’re the last person to see her alive and you killed her and you had no problem placing the blame on her [Barb Raber]. When the heat got real tough on you, you thought ‘I’m going to steer everything away from me.’ Me. You’re a ‘me’ guy aren’t you?”
Eli shook his head. “No.”
And with that, corrections officers shackled his hands and led him out.
The Amish in the courtroom turned their heads away.
35
Doubt
I sat there sobbing and asked, “Eli do you plan on getting a truck again? Because you are acting just like you did when you got the others. Can you just let go of her and the truck? Please don’t let Satan convince you.”
—BARBARA WEAVER, ON THE LURE THE OUTSIDE WORLD HAD FOR HER HUSBAND
Eli’s big moment was over. As the trial continued, some in the Amish community—and many outside it, too—wondered about the elements of the case against Barb that didn’t align with the story line presented by either side of the criminal justice system. Some even went as far as blaming the Wayne County Sheriff’s Office for rushing to judgment and pinning all their hopes for a swift resolution on Eli Weaver’s confession.
As one local put it, “Not everything adds up. Least that’s the way I see it.”
John Leonard, who can’t speak on the record because of client-attorney confidentiality, said that not all the facts were presented during the trial.
Two shotguns associated with Barb and Eli were unaccounted for. The sheriff’s department sent the serial number of one of them to a national registry, but it was never found.
Barb said Eli had hidden the murder weapon around his property, but sheriff’s department reports never mention a thorough search for the weapon. Or had she and Ed hidden it in a camper—then gotten rid of the camper? Or had Eli taken the shotgun on his fishing trip and thrown it into Lake Erie?
>
Those who scoured the reports issued by the sheriff’s department could find no mention of what happened to the two .410 guns—as well as assorted other shotguns and pellet guns—found at Maysville Outfitters. Only Barb Raber’s .22 was tested by the state’s expert.
Another omission from the reports was what, if anything, was learned from Eli’s computer. Barb Raber’s was sliced and diced like an onion in a late-night food-chopper commercial. What about Eli’s? Was it the one he had given to Tabitha? What had been discovered from an examination of his search history?
There was no comment from the coroner or the medical examiner—or the sheriff’s department—about the unexplained bruising on Barbara’s body the morning of June 2. It looked like more than a scratch on a finger, as detectives had described it. Her right arm was scratched and had bled. The fingers on her left hand and palm were bruised and swollen. Her right palm was bruised. Her neck had bruising. Was all the discoloration the result of blood pooling after death? The medical examiner and coroner did not say so. Had she struggled with Eli the morning of her death? Or had she been hurt two days before when she and Eli had sex? Her sister Fannie suspected Eli was “forceful” during sex with his wife.
Barbara Weaver was shot at extremely close range. Barb Raber said her gun went off as she stood in the doorway.
Had Eli already killed her before Barb Raber showed up? Many in the Amish, Mennonite, and English communities still believe Eli killed her, then let Barb Raber fire the shot from one of the .410 gauge shotguns.
Ed Raber’s friend George didn’t mince words, although his opinion is at odds with the coroner’s report. “I have the feeling Eli killed her, because of the marks around her neck. He strangled her before Barb arrived.”
The texts don’t match Eli’s version of the early morning hours. He was at home—awake—when he said he was asleep.
“It seems to me that once they knew that Ms. Raber was implicated in the murder,” said an observer with extensive knowledge of the case, “the authorities did everything they could to prove she had fired the deadly shot—and stopped investigating Eli.”
The biggest sticking point to the case never presented in the media and in court?
“There is no direct evidence that Barb Raber was in the house. Not one shred of evidence,” the observer said. “Not even fingerprints. They first interviewed her the day after the murder. They could have done tests on her person or her clothing to see if she’d fired a weapon. But they didn’t.”
Was Barb Raber the second victim?
36
Verdict
I am telling you the truth, Eddie.
—BARB RABER, TELLING HER HUSBAND SHE HAD NOT KILLED BARBARA WEAVER
To the end, John Leonard insisted that Barb Raber hadn’t killed Barbara Weaver.
The victim’s husband had.
In his closing statement, the defense attorney argued that Eli killed Barbara at 2:00 a.m. and left an hour later on his fishing trip. The lack of a weapon as evidence and the fact that Barbara was shot at close range proved the crime was personal, he said.
Personal. That was so key to the defense. The murder was more in line with the way a husband would kill his wife. A man. Someone who was closely connected to the victim.
Not a girlfriend like Barb Raber.
As the defense saw it, Eli had used Barb to “facilitate” the crime, doing his dirty work, researching poisons, and giving him a computer and a cell phone.
“He suckered Barbara Raber … he was taking advantage” of her, Leonard told the jury.
Barb, born a foundling, had spent her life looking for someone who truly loved her. She thought Eli was that person. They were both outsiders.
But as she had with her house, which was buried in stuff, Barb had lost control of her life, all for a man who didn’t care one whit about her. She was someone to be used. For a ride. For money. For sex. And finally, for murder.
In her summation, Edna Boyle told the jury that the murder was planned, and not, as Barbara Raber claimed, “an accident.”
“We’re talking about two selfish people here who thought they were going to get away with it,” she said. The prosecutor wanted this to be very clear to those in the jury box: Eli was unhappy in his marriage, and Barb Raber wanted Eli for herself.
The jury deliberated for five hours. The only question they asked to have clarified was how time of death is determined. Observers in the courtroom wondered if the defense lawyer’s push to create reasonable doubt by suggesting Eli murdered Barbara in the early morning had worked.
In the end, it hadn’t.
As the jury foreman passed the verdict to the bailiff, who handed it to the judge, Barb, shaking and ravaged by sleepless nights, stood and faced judge and jury.
“In the matter of the State vs. Barbara Raber, the court has reviewed the verdict. The jury finds Ms. Raber guilty of aggravated murder. The jury further finds Ms. Raber used a firearm in the commission of the offense of aggravated murder.”
As soon as it was read, the defendant collapsed in her chair. She put her hands and face on the table and started to cry. As the judge polled the jury on what was a unanimous vote, she sobbed over and over, “I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it.”
Her anguished cries seemed so raw, so full of genuine emotion, that few could doubt that she was in complete agony over what had transpired.
As sheriff’s deputies took her away, she continued to cry out.
“I didn’t do it! I didn’t do it!”
The next day Eli was sentenced for complicity to commit murder. Once again, the courtroom was packed with members of the Amish community.
“I’m very sorry for what I did and I hope everybody can forgive me for what I did,” Eli told Judge Brown.
That didn’t sit well with anyone in the courtroom. Although no one spoke up and called out to the disgraced member of their church, the air was thick with disbelief. They’d heard those words before. Every time Eli returned home after carousing and partying with English women, he’d beg for forgiveness.
This was Eli Weaver playing the part of contrition. It was a rerun. He’d duped all of them before.
Judge Brown told Eli he could have made a different choice, taken a different path. Eli had left the Amish faith twice before.
“You only needed to walk away a third time,” Brown told Eli.
He sentenced Eli to serve fifteen years to life. The sentence seemed awfully short to many in the community. After the courtroom emptied, Andy Hyde told a reporter that although he supported Eli’s plea deal, “It would have been a tough trial to convict Mr. Weaver.” Hyde pointed out that Eli hadn’t put a gun in Barb’s hand, or shown her how to shoot it. All he’d done was leave the basement door unlocked for her. Later, the defense lawyer said, “They made a pretty good case that he wasn’t there, that he was fishing.”
The jury had been faced with two liars—Eli and Barb Raber—and they didn’t like either one of them. The texts before and after the shooting were the most damaging evidence against Barb, according to John Leonard.
“She wasn’t believed by the jury. They decided she did it,” and then tried to cover up her part, Leonard said. He remains convinced that Eli might have killed his wife.
Edna Boyle justified the plea bargain to reporters, saying Eli had provided new details to detectives, including about Barb’s first attempt to kill Barbara three weeks before the June 2 murder. Barb had driven to the Weaver house but backed out because she was scared.
Boyle said Eli’s cooperation did not excuse his actions.
“Five children are without a mother and father. Fannie Troyer is without a sister. Mr. Miller is without a daughter.”
Eli won’t be home anytime soon. According to an attorney with knowledge of the case, he almost certainly will be denied parole the first time he is eligible, in April 2024. He is incarcerated in the Marion Correctional Institution and has been formally shunned by the Amish.
A week later, Barb Raber
was sentenced for aggravated murder. Members of her family, Eli’s family, and spectators filled every bench in the courtroom, in addition to a series of folding chairs. Others stood at the back. Barbara Weaver’s family was present but did not speak or submit a written statement.
Barb Raber was optimistic to the end. She’d wanted a trial, and she was confident that the truth—her truth—would convince the jury of her innocence. The testimony of Fannie Troyer, Jamie Wood, and Eli had been damaging, but Barb was naïve, and, far worse, she hadn’t really thought clearly for years. The simplest thing could be a “sign” to her. The weather was sunny and warm every day of her trial, helping her cling to hope. It didn’t matter to her that the courtroom was stuffy. Now there were threatening thunderstorms and the temperature had dropped twenty degrees. As she sat waiting to hear her sentence, she felt a chill. Just as the weather had turned, so had what little luck Barb had ever had, which wasn’t much.
John Leonard asked for a lower sentencing range because Barb Raber had never been in trouble. He added that she was a good mother, although many knew different. He reminded the court that it was Eli Weaver who wanted his wife murdered and contacted people about doing it.
“If not for Mr. Weaver,” the lawyer said, “we would not be here.”
Boyle didn’t buy that. Not at all. She responded that Barb refused to accept responsibility for her actions, the murder occurred with six young children in the house, Barb and Eli spent six months planning, and she could have backed out.
The State asked for either life without parole or thirty years to life in prison.
Saying he thought it fair that her sentence should have some “parity” with Eli’s, Judge Brown sentenced her to twenty years to life, plus three years on a gun charge.
“The evidence in this case was very compelling,” Judge Brown said to Barb. “You were involved in the death of Barbara Weaver. There is no evidence to contradict that.
“Without your cooperation,” the judge said, “she would still be alive today.”
37
Aftermath
I often think of Christ’s words, “Forgive him, for he knows not what he does.”
