A Killing in Amish Country: Sex, Betrayal, and a Cold-blooded Murder Page 7

  Barb nodded. When she thought about it for a moment, his answer made complete sense.

  Eli asked her to do more research.

  “What do you have in mind?” Barb asked.

  “We could try other poisons.”

  “I could go on the computer and see how much it would take,” she said.

  “Do that.”

  And that’s what she did. She searched. And searched. And searched.

  For more than a year, Eli had floated the idea of getting rid of his wife to a few of the women he met online. He told them he wasn’t happy in his marriage and admitted he wanted more freedom.

  He never mentioned his five children and where they fit into his dream of a life of various lovers and no wife.

  Later, Eli would admit talking to a number of women about getting their help in killing his wife. But it was Barb Raber, he said, who “bit.”

  Eli Weaver had given Barb Raber plenty of suggestions on how to get rid of his wife. Poisons. Blowing up the house. Shooting her at home. Of all of the potential ways of giving Barbara Weaver a one-way ticket to heaven, shooting seemed the most efficient option. Blowing up the house would be too messy and costly, poison too inefficient. Shooting was clean and quick.

  Eli told Barb that he’d be leaving early one morning for a fishing trip.

  Barb had a surprisingly pragmatic side to her personality. She wanted to know how she was going to get into his house.

  “I’ll leave the basement door unlocked,” Eli told her. “Go up to the bedroom and get it done.”

  Late that night while her husband, Ed, was asleep on the couch, Barb took her shotgun to the car and drove the half hour to the Weaver house. Over and over she told herself that she could do what Eli had begged her to do. It wouldn’t take but a moment. She could get in that basement, go up the stairs, tiptoe down the hallway to the master bedroom. Eli’s wife would be asleep. Barb Raber would never even have to look into Barbara Weaver’s eyes. In a flash it would be over.

  Halfway there, Barb eased up on the gas and hit the brakes, stopping her Explorer. Something was off. The timing wasn’t right.

  * * *

  AS THE DETECTIVE continued to interview Barb in the parking lot of the medical center, she told him how she had met Eli many years before when he worked with her husband. Since then she had become Eli’s driver, taking him fishing, hunting, and to business appointments. Their sexual relationship, she confessed to Chuhi, stretched back several years. They had become close—“very close”—when Eli left his family and the Amish community. Barb, who was Amish half her life and even baptized Amish, felt she understood Eli in ways no one else did.

  “They pushed him away and I was there for him through the hard times,” she said. Despite her own marriage and children, Barb always had time for Eli. She owned shotguns and a muzzle loader and sometimes went on overnight hunting trips with him. Barb had killed two deer the year before, and one so far in 2009. She liked to make a present of venison to family members.

  As opposed to Eli, who told detectives they’d had sex only in January 2009, Barb explained that their last sexual encounter had been that May. She didn’t know if Eli’s wife knew about the affair. Barb knew of one other woman Eli had had an affair with, but she didn’t know her name.

  Chuhi asked her about the Weaver marriage. Barb said she knew they had disagreements, but that they usually worked things out and seemed to be happy. “He loved her and the kids,” she said. Did Eli ever talk about getting rid of his wife? Well, there were times Eli seemed frustrated, but any comments made about doing away with his wife were said in a joking manner. She knew nothing about Barbara Weaver’s murder.

  As for her own marriage, she said her husband Ed suspected something was going on with Eli. He wished Barb would quit driving him around all the time. Members of Barb’s Mennonite congregation didn’t know the details—even the Amish say Mennonites are not as gossip prone as they are—but they knew that Ed and Barb were getting church counseling.

  All those times Barb was with Eli, did he talk about leaving his wife? “He talked about leaving not because of his wife but because of the way the Amish reacted,” she wrote in her statement. Eli knew that although he had been accepted back into the Amish community, the bishop had his eye on him. She said she had learned of Barbara Weaver’s death Tuesday morning like everyone else. The detective didn’t ask her how she had heard about the murder. And then she said something surprising. Detective Chuhi asked her if she had talked with Eli since his wife was found murdered. Not only had they talked, they had met up at the house, but only for a few minutes. She went out of her way to point out that they had not been alone.

  * * *

  INTERVIEWS AND PHONE records would show that Barb Raber had been busy the day of the murder. Sobbing, she had telephoned one of her sisters to tell her that Barbara Weaver had been murdered. She had texted Eli’s friend Tabitha Milton, interrupting a session in a tanning bed, to give her the same news.

  At 2:46 p.m. Barb had texted Eli:

  Whatever you do don’t give them your cell phone, please.

  Later, he had received another text from Barb, saying she planned to change their phone numbers so their calls and messages couldn’t be traced. Also on her list of tasks was to ask a friend and former lover, David Weaver, to make a call to the telephone in Eli’s shanty. He was told to leave a specific message.

  11

  The Children

  On Wed. I asked if it’s possible for the boys to walk to neighborhood bulk food store, as I’m to bake pies for gmay [church] and need things … so he mockingly said, “Well, the boys have feet to walk.” He never gave me the money to send them. I didn’t ask again.

  —BARBARA WEAVER, ON HER HUSBAND’S CONTROLLING NATURE

  The woman introduced herself to the boy. “Hi, Harley. Ich bin LaVina.” She asked if he was comfortable speaking in English. He said he was.

  Harley Weaver’s first language was Pennsylvania Dutch, so LaVina Miller Weaver was on hand to translate if Harley didn’t understand questions asked of him. The interview was conducted by Natasha Siebert from Wayne County Children Services and Detective Maxwell.

  “What does it mean to tell the truth?” Harley was asked.

  “To tell the truth is not to lie,” he said.

  All of the Weaver children knew what had happened. They had seen their mother’s body and screamed when they couldn’t wake her. Two-year-old Lizzie sensed a loss she didn’t know how to put into words. Harley, the oldest, had touched his mother and felt her coldness. He was present for the chaos that followed the arrival of the ambulance, the sheriff’s deputies, and the detectives.

  His mother had been murdered two days after his ninth birthday.

  At least the children were now in a place that was familiar and where they felt safe, at the home of their aunt and uncle, Fannie and Cristy Troyer.

  During the interview, Harley seemed dazed and said he couldn’t remember the hours before finding his mother. With gentle coaching, the memories returned, but Harley remained emotionless the entire time he spoke with the adults.

  It had been storming that night. He and his cousin Susie were frightened so they had gone downstairs to sleep. Susie took the sofa and Harley took the recliner. For a time, some of the other children were in Barbara’s room. Harley remembered seeing his mother holding Lizzie for a while in a rocking chair and later putting her in her crib in the nursery near the master bedroom.

  Harley was asked when he had last seen his father. He said Eli had gone to the birthday party for Harley at the Troyers’ on Sunday. He knew his father had slept at home Sunday and Monday nights and got up early Tuesday to go fishing. But he had not actually seen his father since Sunday. They had to ask, so they did—had his parents argued much? Had his father ever hurt his mother? Harley said no.

  Harley was asked about weapons in the house. He said he knew there were various guns around, both in the house and in his father’s store.

&nb
sp; The boy thought it was about 11:00 p.m. Monday when he heard the shower running. Then Harley fell asleep and didn’t hear anything until morning.

  Susie woke him at eight o’clock saying the children wanted breakfast and Lizzie was crying. When Susie heard Mary and Sarah crying in their mom’s room, she went in to wake Barbara, and found her dead. Susie told Harley and he hurried to his mother’s room.

  “There was blood right here,” he said, pointing to his own chest. By the time he touched his mother’s cold leg, all of the older children were also in the bedroom, crying. He dressed quickly and ran to the Yoders’. He told the interviewers that he didn’t think Linda believed him when he said his mother was dead.

  Susie thought Barbara had thrown up blood. Harley thought she had been shot.

  Detective Mitchell had Harley draw a floorplan of the house to get a better idea of where the children had slept. They noted that the recliner Harley was in was near a wall. His parents’ bedroom was on the other side.

  Miller Weaver told him in Dutch that what had happened was not his fault and that it was all right to be sad.

  Sarah, six, required the translator’s help more than her brother had. Standing next to Miller Weaver with the woman’s arm around her waist for comfort, Sarah said she had slept upstairs but was scared because of the storm. She and two of the other children had gone downstairs. Sarah remembered falling asleep in her mother’s room, but someone had carried her upstairs later. She didn’t know who.

  She described going to her mother’s room in the morning and knowing she had died. “Her eyes were closed and her lips were yellow,” she said. Later, she would tell Fannie, “We tried to open Mom’s eyes, but we couldn’t.”

  Like Harley, Sarah had not heard any disturbance in the house during the night. She couldn’t recall if she had seen her father on Monday.

  “Did your parents do things together?” she was asked. No. Did she spend time with her father? She would occasionally go to his store. She had never witnessed her parents fighting. She knew there were guns in the store, but she didn’t think there were guns in the house.

  Did the girl know how her mother had died? “No,” she said. As she had with Harley, Miller Weaver told her in Dutch that her mother’s death was not Sarah’s fault, and that it was all right to cry. The girl had sweated so much during the interview that Miller Weaver’s arm was damp.

  They spoke with Susie Troyer next. By now she had overheard someone say that her aunt had been shot. The girl became emotional and Miller Weaver comforted her in Dutch. Susie talked about going home with her aunt and uncle after Harley’s birthday party Sunday night. She hadn’t seen Eli since then. She had moved from the living room back upstairs when she heard Lizzie crying “Mama, Mama” from her crib.

  In the morning Susie was awake and playing with the children. Mary and Sarah had gone into Barbara’s room and Susie heard them crying. The girls were standing near Barbara’s head. Susie felt her aunt’s feet and they were cold. She pointed to her own chest and described the blood she saw on Barbara.

  The adults asked her how she knew Barbara was dead. She said she had touched her grandmother when she died and knew what a cold body meant. She didn’t know of any arguments between her aunt and uncle, but one night her aunt had slept at their house. She didn’t know why. It was unusual.

  From Susie the adults learned that Harley had told her he had heard a “crash, bang, boom” in the night. Was it thunder or a gunshot?

  Susie’s sister Mary, four and a half, was able to relate how she and Sarah had become scared during the storm and climbed into bed with Barbara and Joseph. Later, she had been carried upstairs, maybe by Eli. When she awoke in the morning, she and her cousin Sarah chatted, making plans for the day. They went downstairs and Sarah said she needed her glasses—she thought she had left them in Barbara’s bed. That’s when Mary, Sarah, and Joseph found Barbara. Mary demonstrated how the blood covered the front of her aunt’s nightgown. How did the girl know Barbara was dead? “She looked yuck,” she said.

  Sarah finally found her glasses on a kitchen counter.

  Next was Joseph Weaver, also four and a half. He spoke and understood only Pennsylvania Dutch. He remembered being frightened by the storm the night before and going to his mother’s bed. He believed his mother had carried him upstairs after he fell asleep but agreed that it could have been his father. He was with his sister and cousin when they found Barbara dead. He saw blood on his mother’s arm and her nightgown. He did not hear a shot during the night.

  It was clear from talking with Joseph that Eli’s children were lonely for him. Joseph’s experiences with his father weren’t about fishing trips or other outings. His only memory of spending time with his father was in the living room. He said he liked it when his dad held him—but he didn’t like it when he tickled him under his arms. Harley said his father had taken him fishing just once.

  Joseph’s memories of his mother were much fuller. He liked it when she read to him. In fact, he said he liked everything about his mom. He liked that if the children did something wrong, their mother calmly talked with them and told them not to do it again.

  When asked if he’d seen his parents fight, he remembered a time when his father dumped water on his mother. He thought it might have been for fun, but he wasn’t sure.

  Jacob Weaver, seven, had stayed with his aunt and uncle from Sunday evening to Tuesday. He was in the buggy with his aunt Fannie when they saw the ambulance race by and followed it to the Weaver house. Harley told Jacob that someone had shot their mother and she was dead.

  Jacob couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his father. He liked both his parents, and he liked it when his dad played games with him. He didn’t like it when his mother made him eat foods he didn’t like. He also remembered the water-throwing incident. He didn’t know if his parents had been angry or playing. He had seen his father hurt his mother, and using Miller Weaver’s shoulder, he demonstrated how he had seen his father grab his mother by the shoulders. He said they fought “about what they needed or wanted to get.”

  Jacob said that he knew his father sometimes hurt his mother because he would hear his mother say “ouch.” He said Eli had hurt him by spanking him too hard.

  Children Services had made arrangements for the children to stay with the Troyers. Fannie was worried—she was convinced Eli had killed her sister. What if Eli showed up at her house? She was told to call the agency immediately if he did.

  For now, the children were together.

  12

  The Women

  I really wanted to cuddle last night but I fell asleep before you came home. I guess I was hoping you would wake me and want to fool around. But you didn’t! I worry I don’t turn you on enough. I realize my body needs lots of work.

  —SHELLEY CASEY, ON KEEPING ELI, HER LOVER, FROM STRAYING

  He called himself Amish Stud online. Whether Eli Weaver had an attack of conscience or experienced a fleeting moment of common sense, he later changed his screen name to Amish Guy.

  He wasn’t shy. His subject line read:

  Who wants 2 do an Amish guy!

  And in his online profile he wrote:

  Love hunting, fishing, anything outdoors. I want friends and if u have what it takes u can b my friend.

  Plenty of women wanted to be his friend. It was obvious what he was looking for and it wasn’t dinner and long walks on the beach. It didn’t hurt that his photo showed a young, fit man, from the neck to his briefs, with muscled arms and toned abs. Even men thought he was good-looking—when he wasn’t in one of his disheveled phases. “He was quite handsome,” a friend said. “But he seemed to act like he knew it and was proud of it.”

  He had 141 “friends” with names such as 2_much_ass, 69smileygirl, blackbarbiefisheye143, lovemeasiam, naughtylittlesexysexslave, and tweetybirdfan on his page on MocoSpace, a free mobile phone social network.

  But before he became the Amish Stud, there was Shelley. He met her the old-fashion
ed way.

  Eli had left his wife and children and was living among the English. Shelley Casey met him at a beagle hunt—rabbits are the prey—in May 2006.

  Detectives wanted to talk with her. They were interested in just how far back Eli’s motive for murder went.

  She agreed to talk to Detective Chuhi one morning after she got off work. They met up at an exit off I-76 in Mahoning County.

  Shelley told him that when she met Eli, he was dressed in blue jeans and a T-shirt, was clean shaven, and had short hair. He said he had recently left his Amish community. A week or two later he texted her. They began going to other beagle hunts and hanging out. When their relationship became sexual, he moved in and lived with her and her parents during the spring and summer of 2006.

  The depth of Shelley’s feelings for Eli are clear in letters and notes she wrote to him. There were problems—in the beginning he didn’t have work; he appeared to have a brief pang of guilt about not seeing his children. Her letters show that she was more invested in the relationship than he was.

  Sometimes I think you are worried it won’t work out. Honey, I am going nowhere. I love you. I want to be with you. I have never been happier. I thank God every day for bringing you into my life. I am the luckiest woman alive.

  Eli had told Shelley that his parents—Andy Weaver Amish—didn’t approve of his choices. Regardless of the discord between Barbara and Eli, Shelley encouraged Eli to see his children.

  I just think like I said you got to go visit them at least one afternoon a week.

  Staying away to me makes it even worse. But that is up to you.

  Around the end of June he returned to Barbara and the children. He stayed just two weeks, then went back to Shelley, who wrote about his return.

  You showed me that you do love me, like I love you. And honey, you tried. You went there and you spent a week of boredom and being miserable.

  I would follow you to the ends of the earth.… I would go back with you if I could and give everything I have up. Something was always missing in my life and now I know that it was you.