In 2000, Mike got a new roommate, Shane Zubaty. It was the beginning of a great friendship—so much so that Mike vowed to name his first son Shane. His military life was pretty peaceful until September 11, 2001, when hijacked planes took down the twin towers, slammed into the Pentagon and crashed in a field in Pennsylvania.
As a C-130 crew chief, Mike’s services were needed in Operation Enduring Freedom. He landed in Uzbekistan at Karshi-Khanabad Air Base—known as K-2 to the servicemen. When the United States took over the old Soviet-era base, it was cluttered with equipment from the 1970s, left behind when the Russians abandoned the facility. The conditions there were harsh—the land a flat-to-rolling sandy desert.
K-2 was a small facility, one square mile in size. It became home to Camp Stronghold Freedom, an army logistics operation. Air-conditioned tents were laid out in a grid along streets with names borrowed from New York—Fifth Avenue, Wall Street, the Long Island Expressway.
Mike called home to talk to his father. “Dad, remember what you told me about the Air Force? Well, I’ve got an M-16 on my back and I’m sleeping in a tent. Do you think I’m camping?”
C-130 crews, like Mike’s, ferried people and supplies into Afghanistan for the conflict. Mike was one of the first to touch down on Afghani soil.
On one three-hour stopover in that country, the crew retired to a tent for a few beers. They were all exhausted, but Mike was the first to drift off to sleep. While he dozed, a prankster shaved off half of Mike’s eyebrows. Mike was ticked off when he saw the damage in the mirror, but that just made his buddies laugh even harder.
Always on the look-out for the enemy, Mike sometimes spent ten to twelve hours at a stretch patrolling the air. The night vision goggles provided to the crew did not have straps. That meant Mike had to press his face against the porthole to hold them on for hours at a time. But Mike wasn’t a slacker. His commander had to speak to him about his enthusiasm for the job. “Don’t volunteer so much—let the others go on some of these dangerous missions.”
He was deployed to the Middle East five times. Because of the secrecy of his missions, his family back in Maine often had no idea of his location. One time when he flew out of Kuwait, kids threw rocks at his plane. Mike shook his head in dismay. “They sure forgot fast,” he told his dad.
Mike took his re-enlistment oath in Kuwait balanced on the wing of a C-130. Mike got a kick out of the odd ceremony, telling his dad that the flag painted on the plane was the only one in the area and there had to be a flag to make it official.
In between deployments, he performed regular duties with the 317th Aircraft Maintenance Squadron at Dyess Air Force Base. In his spare time, he took up the two-step, a popular Texas dance seldom seen in his home state. He also loved racing all-terrain vehicles. He was good enough that he was hired to run an exhibition race at a Big Truck Event. He won the race and popped a wheelie the whole length of the course. In a coincidence that reflected the similar personalities of Mike and Nicole, while she was racing four-wheelers in Texas, Nicole was doing the same in Maine.
His experience with these vehicles led him to seek a new challenge. In the summer of 2003, he dropped in to Mary and Danny Hogue’s racing garage in Abilene eager to try his hand at West Texas dirt track racing. He didn’t want to go through the normal levels of competition in the sport, starting with the Bombers class and working through Junior Minis, Hobby Stocks, Mini-Modifieds, I Stocks and Limited Late Models and Modifieds. He wanted to go straight to the top and start with Modified Stock Racing.
The Hogues thought he was nuts. Mike had no car, no tools, no racing suit and not much money for anything. Soon, though, they realized he had the spirit of a competitor and the determination of a warrior. Since he had no cash to invest in a car, Danny agreed to trade a car for Mike’s Raptor 4-wheel all-terrain vehicle. They made the deal on a handshake.
Mike always loved speed, and now he embraced the swirling red Texas dust and the extreme noise of the track. As a racer, Mike was fearless but never cocky. He spun out, survived crashes and kept coming back for more. He saved all the money he could for parts and repairs. He even went so far as to eat nothing but ramen noodles for a two-week stretch to get the money to feed his hobby.
Mike was not one for empty boasting. He didn’t mention the purchase to family or his Air Force buddies until he was sure he was up to the challenge. He was a strong believer in the old maxim “Actions speak louder than words.” After four races, he was confident enough to share his new interest and invite them out to a race.
He went with his new racing friends on a rafting trip on the Guadalupe River in New Braunfels. Nestled in the beauty of the Texas Hill Country, the pretty town was a world away from dry, dusty West Texas. Beer flowed and food was abundant. Mike kept a tight rein on his consumption, though, in order to focus on everyone’s safety. Whenever anyone fell off their raft, he jumped in and helped them out of the water whether he knew them or not.
Still true to his quiet nature, he spent time around others in racing on the sidelines absorbing knowledge. One of his friends, Russ Fletcher, built custom engine motors for stock cars. Many a time, he’d be out working on a car and get a feeling that someone was watching. “Mike, is that you?”
“Yep,” Mike answered.
“How long you been here?”
“Oh, ’bout fifteen, twenty minutes.”
His new racing acquaintances found it hard not to like Mike. He just always seemed to do the right thing by instinct. One day at a race, someone knocked over a guy’s cooler, dumping out the ice and beer. When the owner returned, the ice was a puddle and the brew was warm. The ranting began at high volume.
Mike looked over, assessed the situation, got in his car and drove away without saying a word. The man with the violated cooler was still complaining when Mike returned with a fresh supply of cold beer and ice.
Frank moved down to Abilene to live with Mike in 2002. Mike was in Afghanistan when his brother Frank was involved in a nasty motor vehicle accident. When Mike was back in Texas, he took his brother for a ride. It was all fun until Mike whipped the vehicle around and headed straight for a ditch like the one that had caused Frank’s injuries.
Frank freaked. “Do you realize I was already involved in one accident?”
“Well, Frank, you’ve got to face your fears sooner or later,” Mike said with a grin.
One night in December 2003, 23-year-old Staff Sergeant Michael Severance went out to a bar with his buddies to have a few beers. That evening, instead of returning to the apartment he shared with Frank, he picked up 25-year-old Wendi Davidson and spent the night in her bed.
ELEVEN
Wendi’s carelessness in her personal life carried over to her veterinary career. She’d already taken risks violating her employer’s wishes by bringing two dogs home from the Abilene veterinary clinic. She would do it again—but this time, the consequences were far more serious.
A client brought in a litter of sick kittens. Dr. Ellis examined them and determined that they were all riddled with ringworm, a highly contagious fungal infection. In a one-cat home, feline ringworm is a serious problem because of its ability to transmit to dogs and humans, particularly young children. In a clinic or shelter, it is a disaster. The spores can remain alive and dormant in bedding, on grooming equipment, on any unsanitized surface for as long as thirteen months.
Dr. Ellis isolated the kittens from other animals while he confirmed his diagnosis. When he was certain, he instructed Wendi to euthanize them. Wendi got out the drugs and loaded a syringe, but when she looked at the little creatures with their cute faces and tiny little paws, she looked away. When they mewed at her, she was done. She simply could not do it. She decided, again, that she knew best. She smuggled the kittens out of the clinic and took them home to nurse back to health. She took this action despite the fact that she was putting her own son, Tristan, at risk.
When she believed the little creatures were free of infestation, she returned them one at
a time. Unfortunately, she was wrong. The little cats were still contagious. As she and others tended to them and then took care of other animals, all the felines at the clinic were exposed. The animals there for treatment of an illness were at greatest risk because their immune systems were already compromised. Before the disease ran its course, twenty-eight cats had to be euthanized.
Melissa Casey bore the emotional burden for Wendi’s behavior. She was the one who had to hold each pet while Dr. Ellis administered a life-ending injection. Then Melissa carried the small corpses to the freezer and gently placed them inside. It broke her heart.
Mandy Ellis delivered the news to Wendi that she was responsible for the deaths of more than two dozen cats. Wendi was horrified—and out of a job. To a co-worker, she claimed that she was not fired, she’d quit. She said, “I’m not going to put up with his motherfucking lack of ethics.” In her mind, she was not at fault—Ellis was.
She moved to Lubbock, where she got a job with Dr. Gary Schwede. She convinced him that she was the wronged party in Abilene and that ethical differences between herself and Dr. Ellis forced her to leave. She said that he and his wife Mandy were “immoral people. They lied to people for services they didn’t do. They were very rude to every employee they had. They were just awful people.” Wendi had no problem shredding Larry and Mandy Ellis to bits to preserve her own reputation—truth was irrelevant.
Right after she moved to Lubbock, she discovered another complication in her life. She was pregnant.
Meanwhile, Michael Severance had no idea that Wendi was making plans to alter his future. Up in Abilene, he lived the normal life of a young single man in the service. He did his job, went out with his brother and his Air Force buddies and got more involved in the stock car racing world, developing new friendships outside his military circle. He wanted to learn enough to be able to build a racing engine on his own.
Then Wendi called with the news of his impending fatherhood. He was stunned and confused. He talked to Frank about his options. Still undecided, he called his father. “Hey, Dad. I’m going to be a daddy.”
“What? How long have you known this girl?”
“It was a one-night stand, and I don’t know what I should do.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know, but family is important. I don’t want my child to grow up with just one parent,” Mike said.
“Worst case scenario is, you get married, it doesn’t work, you get divorced and you have to pay child support,” Les said. “But if you don’t get married, you’ll still have to pay child support.”
Mike had a lot to think about. He was only 23 years old. He wasn’t really ready to settle down yet. He barely knew Wendi. But there was a strong internal pull toward doing the right thing.
He called his now–married and pregnant stepsister, Nicole. A little ways into the conversation, he said, “Oh, by the way, there’s going to be a second baby in the family.”
“What?! You’re having a kid?”
He told her about Wendi and shared his excitement about becoming a father.
He thought about it for a couple of months before asking Wendi to marry him. When she agreed, he called his dad right away and gave him the news.
“Have you told her parents about the baby yet?” Les asked.
“No. We’re not sure how they’re going to react.”
“You gotta tell them. They need to know. If it was my daughter, I would want to know.”
Judy and Lloyd had no idea that Wendi had a boyfriend until she showed up at their ranch in April of 2004 with a gangly, quiet young man named Michael Severance in tow. It was the first encounter between Mike and the Davidsons. Judy took an instant dislike to Mike even before she learned that he’d knocked up her only daughter.
When Wendi informed her parents that she was pregnant again, Judy’s feelings became even more hostile. She was not mollified with the news that Wendi and Michael planned to get married as soon as the baby was born. Like other prospective grooms in Wendi’s life, Judy found Mike unworthy.
It was an awkward introduction. Mike was more reserved than usual. He didn’t engage in lengthy conversation, but he did answer most questions posed to him with a simple “Yes” or “No.” “I found out that his brother had a car wreck. I found out that his mother had passed away. And other than that, nothing,” Judy said.
After that first encounter, Judy made her animosity toward Mike clear to Wendi. She said he was “rude, disrespectful and lazy.” She’d said those same words about previous boyfriends, and now made it clear that she did not approve of the marriage. In fact, she rarely let a day pass without telling her daughter how much she hated Mike.
After the visit Wendi returned to work in Lubbock and Mike went back to the base in Abilene. Marshall visited his sister in Lubbock one weekend and together, they drove to Abilene for the two men to meet. Mike was quiet but sociable. The three played Putt-Putt and then went to a bar for a few drinks.
Mike seldom made the drive to visit Wendi in Lubbock. By late spring, Wendi feared that he was slipping away. She complained bitterly to her brother Marshall. He was appalled at the situation—his sister was pregnant out of wedlock again. Nonetheless, he mustered up the patience to listen as she expressed her anguish.
“I don’t think he wants anything to do with the baby,” she sobbed. “He doesn’t even want to see me anymore. I call and call and call, and he doesn’t answer the phone. I wanted him to come down this weekend, but he had a car race and didn’t want to talk to me about it.”
“Wendi, you know, the best thing if he doesn’t want to have anything to do with the child is just . . . You’ve managed on your own so far. You’ll pull through on this one, too.”
Michael, however, had made a commitment to his unborn child and was determined to see it through. With his bachelor life coming to a close, his 22-year-old brother Frank moved back to Maine.
When the wedding date was set, Wendi called Marshall. “We’re going to get married. The date is set for September thirteen.”
“Mom doesn’t want this marriage, Wendi. She doesn’t like him.”
Wendi said, “I love him.”
“Just make sure you know what you’re getting into,” her brother said.
Despite her pleasure at the upcoming nuptials, Wendi had little faith in any man’s promises, and Mike was no exception. No matter what happened, Wendi knew that she needed now, more than ever, to return to San Angelo to be close to her family. She wanted to set up a large animal practice there. She also knew her days were numbered at the clinic in Lubbock—she was about to be fired again. Her first plans were to open a clinic out in Grape Creek near her parents’ home.
Lloyd and Judy urged her to care for small animals. There’s more money in it, they told her, and the start-up costs were lower. Wendi suggested a compromise: she would care for all animals. The Davidsons were opposed to that idea as well. They enlisted Marshall’s help. He sided with his parents, but still Wendi held firm. She preferred working with large animals.
The Davidsons asked for the counsel of Lloyd’s employer, retired veterinarian Terrell Sheen. The three of them sat down with Wendi. “You need to stick with small animals,” Judy said.
Terrell nodded his head. “Your parents are right. That’s where the money is—I know from experience. A large animal practice costs too much to set up. It’s just not worth it.”
Still Wendi did not budge. A reality check was planned for the young vet. Terrell arranged for Wendi to assist in a necropsy of a horse. A chain saw was not normally used in that procedure because it was too messy, but this was a designed object lesson. When the chain saw came out to cut off the animal’s head, Wendi had seen enough. She set aside her preferences and meekly agreed to her parents’ plan.
Wendi was very young to set up her own veterinary business. Large animals or small, it was an expensive proposition. But she had the support of her family and, more important, the financial assistance of Terr
ell Sheen. When Dr. Freddy Miller retired, his clinic building on Sherwood Way, one of the major thoroughfares in town, sat vacant. Terrell purchased that property for Wendi’s use.
Lloyd and Judy dumped $40,000 into building renovations and equipment. Marshall pitched in by purchasing supplies. Terrell rented the facility to Wendi for a low $1,500 a month. In addition to clinic space, the building housed a small living area.
Through the last few months of their pregnancies, Wendi and Mike’s stepsister Nicole chatted on the phone often. Since both were expecting, they had more in common with each other than they did with Mike at that time. It would be the second child for Wendi, but a new experience for Nicole. She turned to Wendi for information and advice. They both relied on each other for support.
On August 10, Nicole gave birth to Kaiden. That month, Wendi left Lubbock and moved into her parents’ house as the construction on the new clinic continued. Although Mike maintained his place in Abilene, near the end of the month he moved into the Davidsons’ house, too, commuting the ninety miles to Abilene to work at Dyess Air Force Base. Judy’s hatred of Mike grew even more. She resented the slightest glimpse of him in his boxer shorts during his early morning preparation for work.
The elder Davidsons weren’t exactly respectful of the young couple’s privacy. One day, Wendi and Mike checked Tristan’s baby monitor on the kitchen counter to make sure it was turned off. Then they went into the bedroom to spend some time alone. When they emerged, Mike realized that someone had turned the monitor back on, enabling them to listen to everything that was said and done in the bedroom.
Ten days after he’d moved in with his in-laws, Mike’s son Shane was born on September 1, 2004. Judy wasn’t exactly a proud grandmother. She told her stepfather, “I’d like to send that little bastard to where he came from.”
Wendi, Mike, Tristan and Shane moved into the one-bedroom residence inside the clinic building. Leslie Severance traveled from Maine to meet Wendi and her family and his new grandson. He planned to spend a couple of weeks with his son and be present for the wedding. The date set for the service was September 13, 2004. Leslie had no idea that his predictions for a worst case scenario were far too optimistic. He would learn the hard way how bad things could really get.
A Poisoned Passion Page 5
