means. He had a black belt in karate, yet was never one to flaunt it or brag about what he could do. As two military men, Joshua and BJ were far different, however. Joshua had gotten out of the army with an honorable discharge; whereas BJ, it was well stated, had gotten into some serious trouble and, after a court-martial, pleaded guilty to a litany of charges. In fact, one report said that back in October 2000, BJ was convicted at “a special court-martial of two charges of going AWOL, three charges of insubordination, one charge of drunken or reckless driving, and one charge of wearing unauthorized insignia.” Based on those charges, BJ was given a bad-conduct discharge, three months’ prison time, forfeiture of his $600-a-month pay, and a reduction in rank. After an appellate review, the navy issued a notice that BJ’s discharge had been finalized. Later, however, BJ would say he did it all—staged the crimes—for Erika’s sake because she couldn’t survive in the world without her hubby next to her all the time—and the navy was interfering with that. It was best for both of them if he left the navy.
As Joshua and BJ stood, toe to toe, BJ had that crazy, drunken, evil gaze in his eyes, Erika later speculated: Make a move and I’ll kill you! He had crossed a threshold, for sure. And once BJ set his mind on something—especially where pride, ego, and crossing him were involved—there was no turning back until he felt confident the situation was under his control.
“I’m sure in my brain,” Erika said later, speaking of that moment, “he’s gonna go crazy. He’s gonna do something fucking crazy, because he doesn’t care about the shit that’s missing. He was jumping at the opportunity to whack somebody. He’s always wanting to kill somebody, ‘Let’s do this, let’s do that.’ So I’m freaking out because I know . . . I almost know what’s coming.”
Geney grabbed Erika by both her arms and started shaking her, according to what Erika later told the government agent, saying, “We didn’t take your stuff. . . .” Geney sounded sincere. She was begging Erika to believe her. “We’d never do that.”
BJ started to laugh.
“We’ve been good to you guys all night,” Geney continued. “We paid your bus fare.... We’re drinking.... We’d never do that stuff to you.”
BJ was thinking again. Erika could tell. He had something on his mind. He was quiet. The wheels were spinning.
After a few intense moments of uncomfortable silence, BJ finally said, “Get in the bathroom,” using the gun as a wand to direct Geney and Joshua toward the door.
Joshua and Geney started toward the bathroom—and then ran as BJ hurried after them. But Joshua was quicker and managed to get himself and Geney into the bathroom first, slamming the door shut behind them, and then locking it before BJ had a chance to catch up.
21
Military Man
BJ was the oldest of Elizabeth Sifrit’s two children (he has a younger sister). By the time he met Erika, BJ’s parents had been married for close to twenty-eight years. BJ grew up in the Midwest—Iowa and Minnesota—but during his sophomore year of high school, the family uprooted because of his dad’s job and moved just outside Houston, Texas. At Cypress-Fairbanks (Cy-Fair) High School, whose school motto seemed to fit with BJ’s future, “Bobcat Fight Never Dies,” BJ was a competitive swimmer. He was not a lazy kid and often had several jobs: YMCA swimming instructor, grocery store worker, lifeguard.
One job BJ took to, like a shark to blood, was when he worked for a locksmith. He just seemed to relish the work. A friend said that she was once locked out of her house, her new key wouldn’t work. It took BJ just a few minutes and he had the key fixed. Friends described coming home and finding BJ sitting on their couch, watching television. “He could get through any lock.”
BJ’s mother and father—good, hardworking people, according to those who knew
As Joshua and BJ stood, toe to toe, BJ had that crazy, drunken, evil gaze in his eyes, Erika later speculated: Make a move and I’ll kill you! He had crossed a threshold, for sure. And once BJ set his mind on something—especially where pride, ego, and crossing him were involved—there was no turning back until he felt confident the situation was under his control.
“I’m sure in my brain,” Erika said later, speaking of that moment, “he’s gonna go crazy. He’s gonna do something fucking crazy, because he doesn’t care about the shit that’s missing. He was jumping at the opportunity to whack somebody. He’s always wanting to kill somebody, ‘Let’s do this, let’s do that.’ So I’m freaking out because I know . . . I almost know what’s coming.”
Geney grabbed Erika by both her arms and started shaking her, according to what Erika later told the government agent, saying, “We didn’t take your stuff. . . .” Geney sounded sincere. She was begging Erika to believe her. “We’d never do that.”
BJ started to laugh.
“We’ve been good to you guys all night,” Geney continued. “We paid your bus fare.... We’re drinking.... We’d never do that stuff to you.”
BJ was thinking again. Erika could tell. He had something on his mind. He was quiet. The wheels were spinning.
After a few intense moments of uncomfortable silence, BJ finally said, “Get in the bathroom,” using the gun as a wand to direct Geney and Joshua toward the door.
Joshua and Geney started toward the bathroom—and then ran as BJ hurried after them. But Joshua was quicker and managed to get himself and Geney into the bathroom first, slamming the door shut behind them, and then locking it before BJ had a chance to catch up.
21
Military Man
BJ was the oldest of Elizabeth Sifrit’s two children (he has a younger sister). By the time he met Erika, BJ’s parents had been married for close to twenty-eight years. BJ grew up in the Midwest—Iowa and Minnesota—but during his sophomore year of high school, the family uprooted because of his dad’s job and moved just outside Houston, Texas. At Cypress-Fairbanks (Cy-Fair) High School, whose school motto seemed to fit with BJ’s future, “Bobcat Fight Never Dies,” BJ was a competitive swimmer. He was not a lazy kid and often had several jobs: YMCA swimming instructor, grocery store worker, lifeguard.
One job BJ took to, like a shark to blood, was when he worked for a locksmith. He just seemed to relish the work. A friend said that she was once locked out of her house, her new key wouldn’t work. It took BJ just a few minutes and he had the key fixed. Friends described coming home and finding BJ sitting on their couch, watching television. “He could get through any lock.”
BJ’s mother and father—good, hardworking people, according to those who knew
Similar Books
