Killer Nurse

by John Foxjohn

  By the end of the investigation, he had sorted through 16,000 documents. Some of those documents that Sergeant Abbott examined were DaVita employment time records, which were very revealing. By this time, he was investigating what he believed to be five murders and five aggravated assaults. As he studied the time sheets, he discovered that the ten occurrences had occurred on six days, and there was only one DaVita employee present and working on the days that all of the occurrences happened: Kimberly Clark Saenz.

  As 2008 closed and a new year began, Herrington and Abbott knew that they had a ways to go for trial, but they were almost ready for that grand jury Lieutenant Young had spoken of.

  * * *

  By the end of 2008, everyone in East Texas knew that the police were investigating not only the two aggravated assaults but possible homicides, too. Rumor after rumor swept through the small community about the possible serial killer; that it was a nurse sworn to help the sick made it even more unconscionable.

  And then there was the accused method—the idea that she’d used bleach via IV was seen not only as heinous but cowardly in the gun-loving area. East Texas is a land that respects courage and the American way. It’s a land where they really would need to pry the guns from an East Texan’s cold, dead hands, a land where hunting and shooting are a way of life—almost a religion of its own.

  By January 2009, Saenz had changed attorneys—from Scott Tatum, a veteran local attorney, to Thomas Ryan Deaton, a young attorney. Also, since it was quite obvious that she was never going to get another nursing job (and in any case, wasn’t allowed to work in a medical facility as part of the terms of her bail), she voluntarily surrendered her license. This also saved her the trouble of having to testify or respond to the allegations from Woodland Heights or the State Board of Nursing, where her testimony could be subpoenaed by the district attorney.

  Despite surrendering her license, however, Saenz did violate the stipulation of her bond agreement when she got a job with Dr. Matthew Rowley, a local dermatologist, and in March 2009, went to work at the Lufkin Dermatology Clinic—though as a receptionist, not a nurse.

  But with her name splashed across the state and the nation under serious charges, how was she even able to get the job at the Dermatology Clinic? Although the news carried Saenz’s name, few East Texans could tell you what it was. Most people simply referred to her as the DaVita nurse, and even after the trial, still did. And besides that, she also lied on her application. Naturally she couldn’t put down her work history. So she didn’t. She put on the application that she’d been working for a roofing company and gave her husband’s cell phone number as a reference.

  While Kim Saenz began what was to be yet another short-lived job, in downtown Lufkin at the courthouse, Herrington had convened a grand jury to listen to evidence of cases in Angelina County, but one in particular involved Herrington, Sergeant Steve Abbott, Corporal Mike Shurley, and several others. How she was able to get off of work to attend the grand jury session is anyone’s guess, but the members of law enforcement were surprised when the doors to the grand jury room opened and Saenz marched in.

  Herrington said that in Angelina County, suspects are welcome to speak to the grand jury if they want to, though people accused of crimes don’t often appear to testify. Seldom will a suspect’s attorney let them. For one thing, if they appear, they are by themselves—their attorney can’t appear with them. Second, the testimony is a matter of record and can and will be used in a criminal trial. And third, the members of the grand jury are empowered to investigate as well as review evidence, and are allowed to ask questions of the suspect, who very well could incriminate herself—especially without an attorney by her side.

  Some people later said that it was a ploy by the defense attorney to get certain things on the record to try to combat what Saenz had said in the police interview, and that she walked in with a script. Herrington called it the birth of the “scapegoat” theory, which would become an integral part of the defense strategy.

  As a matter of fact, Saenz’s entire testimony to the grand jury contradicted what she’d told the police in her earlier interview.

  On the other hand, her stated purpose for appearing and asking to speak to the grand jury was that she’d been accused of some things and she wanted to clear her name. But if it was meant as a means for Saenz to try to talk her way out of trouble—and it was noted that she was sober, a stark contrast to what the grand jury had already seen from the police video—it didn’t work.

  Big bold headlines in the April 1, 2009, newspaper declared: GRAND JURY INDICTS FORMER NURSE ON CAPITAL MURDER CHARGES OF FIVE PATIENT DEATHS. The news swept through Angelina County and across the entire country. Finally, the family members of the dead patients knew without a doubt that the investigators and the district attorney believed that their loved ones had been murdered by Kimberly Clark Saenz.

  In an odd twist of fate, the newspaper headlines came out on the one-year anniversary of the day that Ms. Thelma Metcalf and Ms. Clara Strange had coded on their machines at DaVita, within five minutes of each other. Near the headlines about Saenz’s indictment was a picture of Walter Metcalf Sr., husband of Ms. Metcalf, flanked by their children. On his right were their two sons, Johnny and Walter Metcalf Jr., and on his left, their two daughters, Patricia Metcalf and Wanda Metcalf Hollingsworth. In the picture, Ms. Metcalf’s loved ones were standing by the creek in Arkansas where she had played as a child. Nearly a year earlier, they had spread Ms. Metcalf’s ashes over this area.

  Johnny Metcalf’s statement to The Lufkin News in many ways reflected the feelings of other victims’ family members. “I have mixed feelings about the nurse being accused of murdering my mother. Evidence will show if she was intentionally hurting those patients or if she is being blamed for others’ wrongdoings. I have to have faith that the justice system will decide if she is guilty or innocent, only time will tell. I do feel that something horrible was happening at DaVita and the clinic is guilty of not properly supervising its staff and protecting the patients from harm. We sent our loved ones up there to be cared for and treated humanely, instead all our families have had to live this horrible nightmare.”

  In other words, while a jury would decide Saenz’s guilt, DaVita still ought to shoulder some responsibility for the actions of one of its employees. DaVita, meanwhile, was trying to distance itself from the indictments, and released a statement saying, “Yesterday’s grand jury indictments of a lone individual for murder of patients at DaVita Lufkin Dialysis Center in 2008 is a painful reminder of the terrible tragedy that has impacted our teammates, our patients, their families and our community.” Obvious PR from a Fortune 500 company facing a mounting pile of lawsuits from family members of the victims. (To their credit, they ended up settling most of them.)

  Ms. LaFrancis Kelley, Mr. Kelley’s wife, said to the paper, “It’s hard to understand what happened and how she could’ve done that because [my husband] was the love of everybody.” Even so, LaFrancis said she forgave Kimberly Saenz for what she’d done. She said, “Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices in the truth, it always protects, always trusts, always hopes.”

  The grand jury indicted Saenz on the five counts of capital murder: the murders of Ms. Metcalf, Ms. Strange, Ms. Few, Ms. Bryant, and Mr. Kelley. However, that would not be all. Seldom does law enforcement charge anyone with attempted murder in Texas—it’s difficult to prove—but the grand jury also indicted Saenz on five counts of aggravated assault, against Ms. Risinger, Ms. Rhone, Ms. Castaneda, Ms. Oates, and Ms. Bradley. Aggravated assault is a serious charge that could result in a twenty-year sentence for each count. Even without the murders, Kimberly Saenz would spend most of her life in prison if convicted of the assaults. Linda Few James, Ms. Few’s daughter, voiced what many East Texans were thinking when she said to the paper, “This many people? It’s blowing my mind. I mean, we live in Lufkin. How can a person that sick walk around like a normal pers
on?”

  The news of the indictments told nothing about the victims. The ten victims listed were just names to most—just numbers. Angela Scott, the daughter of Ms. Cora Bryant, called up The Lufkin News and told them she wanted people to know who her mother was. She went on to tell them about the values Ms. Bryant had instilled in her, how her mother had passed on the will to never give up, and how Ms. Bryant had given her strength to carry on. “We knew my mother was going to die eventually of kidney failure, but not this way. Not by the hands of someone else.”

  The one divergent voice in all this, unexpectedly enough, was Ms. Carolyn Risinger, one of the victims whom the two witnesses saw Saenz inject with bleach on the morning of April 28.

  Ms. Risinger told her story about that day to KTRE-TV on April 2, 2009. “It started out with a pressure on my chest. It felt like somebody was pushing on me and then my stomach started a severe hurt.” She said, “It turned into a nightmare, and so many had died I thought it was my turn.”

  Her husband, Jim Risinger, also told the reporter, “You don’t go in there [to the dialysis center] expecting to be up dancing or anything, but you’d like to see them still be alive.”

  But neither Ms. Risinger nor her husband blamed Kimberly Saenz for killing the five patients or attempting to kill or harm her. On the contrary, they told about a time when they thought Saenz tried to help her. They put the blame squarely on DaVita’s shoulders. “The fault lies with more than a single person,” Ms. Risinger said. “DaVita was such a rat hole that I said they’re using her as a scapegoat.”

  Interestingly enough, Ms. Risinger would be the first person to use the word “scapegoat” in public. Saenz had said it to the grand jury, but that was sealed and no one knew it at the time. Saenz’s new attorney, Ryan Deaton, would also use it in an interview with the paper, but not until later. Ms. Risinger was also the only patient to refer to DaVita as a “rat hole.”

  Unfortunately, Ms. Risinger did not live to see the Saenz trial. A year and a half after Saenz’s indictment, she and her husband were in an early-morning one-car accident in Nacogdoches. Jim Risinger, the driver, sustained some head injuries as a result, but his wife died. Mr. Risinger, a witness for the defense, was not allowed to listen to testimony. Perhaps a small mercy, since at trial former DaVita employee after employee swore that Ms. Risinger was one of the patients Saenz disliked the most, and would get really upset if assigned to care for her.

  * * *

  Just as it can be argued that the families of murder victims are also victims, the family of the suspect could be victims as well. Imagine being the parents of an accused serial killer.

  After the indictments, only one member of Saenz’s family spoke publically in her defense. Kent Fowler, Saenz’s father, told KETK-TV, “My daughter is a Christian woman and the truth will eventually come out. She is the victim and that DaVita is the one to blame for the deaths. She was only using bleach because her superiors at DaVita told her it was part of her daily cleaning duties.”

  The public as a whole still had little idea who Kimberly Clark Saenz was. All they knew was that she was charged with some pretty horrific crimes—ones almost too unimaginable for the little town of East Texas to contemplate. Her immediate family, church members, and other people who knew her would or could not believe her guilty of these crimes.

  With all the media coverage, it seemed inevitable that the Lufkin Dermatology Clinic where Saenz worked was bound to find out about her indictment and arrest. After all, the news had swept the country like wildfire. But it actually wasn’t until her husband called to inform them that she couldn’t come to work because she was being indicted for murder that they fired her on March 31, 2009—the same day she was indicted by the grand jury, arrested, and put in jail.

  About a week later, on April 8, 2009, Saenz was released from jail on a $500,000 attorney bond from her new attorney, Ryan Deaton. On Thursday, April 16, most Angelina County residents got their first look at Kimberly Clark Saenz, when a picture was published in the newspaper of her standing next to Deaton in the Angelina County Courthouse.

  Saenz, along with several other people, was awaiting arraignment before Judge Barry Bryan, one of the district judges. Saenz stood out in a vibrant, almost fluorescent, green shirt, which seemed to draw attention to her like a bug to light.

  Saenz would have commanded people’s attention even without her bright clothes. Not many people are charged with five counts of capital murder. “Capital murder” differs from “murder” when the murder in question happens during the commission of a felony. For example, the murder of a policeman or fireman in the course of their duties; murder for hire; murder in an attempt to escape; murder during a robbery; murder in retaliation; murder of someone under ten years of age—or multiple murders (defined as two or more murders during the same “criminal act,” which can involve a series of events not taking place at the same time), which was what applied to Saenz.

  Perhaps the largest difference between murder and capital murder in Texas is this: those convicted of murder go to prison; those convicted of capital murder can be put to death. And the world knows how Texans feel about the death penalty.

  Deaton gave a statement to the press defending his client against the allegations. “Police have not offered a motive in the case. Saenz is a married mother of two and has no motive for the crimes she is accused of committing. She has no motive to kill anyone.” He then plugged the theory that DaVita was using her as a scapegoat, and said, “The investigation is very narrow. I think when the dust settles the truth will come out.”

  What he said was in part true. Saenz was a married mother of two, and the Lufkin Police Department had not offered a motive. Of course, what Deaton failed to say was that police departments seldom if ever speak to the media before a trial, and the Lufkin Police Department was no exception—especially Sergeant Stephen Abbott.

  Nor was motive part of the proof that the prosecution needed to convict.

  PART III

  THE ARMIES PREPARE

  When men are most sure and arrogant they are commonly most mistaken, giving views to passion without that proper deliberation which alone can secure them from the grossest absurdities.

  —DAVID HUME

  CHAPTER 13

  THE DEFENSE GROUP

  The definition of arrogance: having or showing an exaggerated opinion of one’s own importance; being conceited; or overbearingly proud. When people survey the American public about which profession exemplifies this persona, most say attorneys—especially defense attorneys. In a recent survey done by the American Bar Association, the results concluded that the public considers the legal profession among the least reputable institutions in America. The only group that ranked lower was the media, but even then, it was close.

  And although the media itself, mainly TV, can be blamed in part of this perception, some of that blame has to fall on the attorneys themselves.

  Some seem to be drawn to the spotlight. In many cases, these are the ones perceived to have overinflated opinions of themselves—the self-centered egomaniacs. Others choose to keep themselves as far away from the public spotlight as they can, recognizing that, like cops and the clergy, they are always in the public eye. They are judged by their behavior not only in the courtroom, but also in the hallways, grocery stores, and even church.

  At the moment of the arraignment, Kimberly Clark Saenz and her family had retained Ryan Deaton to represent her against the charges. However, in July 2009, prosecutor Clyde Herrington notified Deaton and the court that he planned to seek the death penalty against Saenz. This meant the structure of the defense would have to change—Deaton was not a certified death penalty specialist, and the defense was required to have one appointed by the court.

  Like most states, in order for an attorney to defend someone facing the death penalty, that attorney either needed to be certified by the State of Texas as a death penalty specia
list or had to have someone at the defense table who was certified. Most counties like Angelina in Texas have an abundance of attorneys, but few are certified to handle death penalty cases.

  Stephen Christopher Taylor, an attorney from Conroe, Texas—approximately a hundred miles south of Lufkin—was a certified death penalty specialist. He was an extremely experienced attorney—twenty-three years—and a board certified criminal defense attorney whose practice included North, South, and East Texas. He was also one of the first attorneys in Texas to receive certification in criminal appellate law. With this certification, he could appeal on a client’s behalf in state and federal courts, and other aspects of the appeal process. Like certification to defend clients facing death, to become a certified criminal appellate attorney, there are many processes to undergo, and Taylor had successfully completed them.

  In truth, Taylor could have been that defense attorney that everyone talked about—the one who strutted around, the one the public had a low opinion of. But he wasn’t. He’d taken a circuitous route to becoming a lawyer—born, raised, and educated in Houston, he began working in the computer industry after graduation from high school, and several years later started taking college-level night classes. Eight years after he began those college classes, he graduated with a bachelor’s degree. Three more years of night school followed as Taylor obtained a master’s degree in business administration.

  At the age of thirty-six, Taylor began what he calls a midlife change. He entered law school at the Thurgood Marshall School of Law at Texas Southern University in Houston. In true Taylor fashion, he chose this school because it was only a couple of miles from where he worked.

  After graduating from law school at the age of thirty-nine, Taylor had to decide what he wanted to do, but in many ways, his decision was taken out of his hands. In his own words, unless he wanted to chase divorces, he didn’t have enough money for civil litigation unless he was lucky enough to get into one of the big civil litigation firms. Also, Taylor said, he didn’t go into the prosecution side of criminal law because no one wanted to hire a thirty-nine-year-old baby fresh out of law school. That left criminal defense, an area he immersed himself in.