Body Hunter by Patricia Springer Page B

her daughter every day. The steady stream of tears seemed to have no beginning, and no end. They were a visible manifestation of her intense grief.
    Terry’s death shattered the family unit. The Simses divorced as a result of Terry’s murder, neither parent able to cope with the loss. Mrs. Sims went through several periods she described as “not being well.” Depression ravaged her spirit. “It doesn’t get easier with time,” she told friends mournfully.
    The investigations of the murders of Sims, Blau, and Taylor continued separately without success. Every lead was being investigated. The search for the killers was not isolated to the North Texas area; suspects outside their geographical locations were also scrutinized.
    When a man in Tucson, Arizona, raped three women, then killed himself, Wichita Falls lawmen investigated possible relationships between the man and any of the local victims. It turned out to be yet another in a growing list of dead ends.
    Frustration ran through each agency department. Their defeat seemed to narrow their tunnel vision even further and reinforce their notions that they were searching for several killers. They feared that the murderers could erupt again at any time and claim the lives of more young women.
    Toni Sims was the only victim who attracted interagency cooperation, but only because she had been abducted in Wichita County and killed in Archer County.
    In a darkened Wichita Falls garage, Archer County deputies sprayed Luminol on the rusted bus abandoned not far from the body of Toni Gibbs.
    The chemical causes bloodstains, otherwise undetectable, to be visible to the naked eye. Sheriff Pippin of Archer County knew it was literally like “fishing in the dark,” but he had to give it a shot. Luminol testing had not been an investigative tool available when Gibbs was murdered seven years earlier. Although Pippin had little belief that the test would yield any evidence as to who had committed the murder, he hoped that it might help paint a picture of what happened to Gibbs on the night she died.
    The shell of the bus had been transported to a long, silver-metal building and nestled between antique trucks and retired Wichita Falls fire vehicles. The chemical test required a darkened location to be best effective, so deputies covered the windows with carpet and wooden boards. The deputies were looking for some thin strand of evidence that would reignite the investigation.
    Within seconds of the spraying, the walls of the bus exploded in an eerie purplish glow. The ghoulish gleam showed on a door handle and on the right side of the shell, glaring reminders of the young nurse’s brutal death.
    The investigators, representing Archer County, Wichita County, and the Wichita Falls Police Department, stood in silence as they watched the condemning glow come to life. The experienced lawmen could only imagine the terror that raged through Toni Gibbs when she was held hostage in the dilapidated structure.
    Their thoughts turned to Danny Wayne Laughlin, freed by a hung jury instead of being punished for the brutal Gibbs killing. Many, including Wichita County District Attorney Barry Macha, thought they had the right man and had hoped the Luminol would give them enough proof to retry Laughlin.
    In truth, Laughlin’s life had become a living hell since his implication in the murder of Gibbs. Despite the jury’s eleven-to-one vote for acquittal at his 1986 trial, many people continued to look at Laughlin as a killer.
    Laughlin’s mother, Wilma Hooker, had often complained of her son’s treatment. She claimed that every place Laughlin went, he was harassed by the police.
    â€œHe would be stopped for minor traffic violations and blatantly called a murderer. Lawmen would go to his place of work and after talking with his supervisors and warning girls he worked with that he might hurt them, Danny would be fired,” Hooker complained to the press.