Dan Morse - The Yoga Store Murder: The Shocking True Account of the Lululemon Athletica Killing

It Couldnt Happen Here

The soundswere they screams?reached Jana Svrzo as she walked across the sales floor of the Apple Store, now closed for the night. Jana (pronounced Yah-nah) was twenty-nine years old and wore funky black sneakers and a ready smilean easy fit among Apples hip, young sales army. It was just after 10:00 P.M. on Friday, March 11, 2011, in downtown Bethesda, an affluent area just north of the nations capital, and Jana, the stores manager, had about an hours worth of record-keeping ahead of her, following the opening day sales for Apples hot new product, the iPad 2, which had created a nearly four-hundred-foot line of eager buyers down the sidewalk.

Now, though, she looked to her right and listened. The sounds were high-pitched yelps and squeals, and low-pitched grunts, thuds, a dragging noise, as if something heavy was being moved. Jana thought they might be coming from a room near the back exit or a room upstairs, where technicians were still on duty. She asked one of the two security guards to help her search.

Jana and the guard split up, meeting two minutes later upstairs, where they spoke to another young manager, Ricardo Rios, who wore a dark baseball cap and a bright blue Apple employee shirt.

Screaming, the guard said. It sounded like some lady was screaming.

They checked out the technicians room. All clear. They walked downstairs to the sales floor and heard more yelling. Suddenly, Jana felt sure of the origin. Its coming from next door, she saidfrom lululemon athletica, the luxury yoga store with which Apple shared a wall.

She and Ricardo walked closer to the wall. Jana now could hear someone saying: Talk to me. Dont do this. Talk to me. Whats going on?

Then she heard what sounded like a different voice, maybe the one that had just been screaming. Now it was quieter: God help me. Please help me.

Ricardo also could hear that first voice, the one saying Talk to me, but couldnt make out the words of the second one. They were muffled, covered by crying and panting, as if a woman was trying to catch her breath. Ricardo kept staring at the wall, walked away from it, returned, then knocked on it, trying to get the attention of whoever was on the other side. Whats going on? he asked, his voice raised.

No response.

Maybe I should just call the cops, Jana said.

Thats up to you, Ricardo answered. He thought it was a private matter, and told Jana it sounded as if one person had just heard tragic news and the other was trying to get her to talk about it. I think its just drama.

Ricardo said he was going back upstairs and did so. It was 10:19, eight minutes after Jana had first heard the noises.

Wilbert Hawkins, the second of the two security guards, had been observing the commotion without feeling overly concerned. The crashing sounds, he figured, could have been a merchandise display falling over, the yelling some kind of horsing around. It didnt seem threatening. Maybe if they were somewhere in nearby D.C., where, even in a high-end area like Georgetown, danger could erupt without warningbut not here, Wilbert thought, not along the tony, walkable streets in the middle of Bethesda.

Jana sensed the noises growing fainter. To her left, outside the glass front doors, the sidewalks were slowing down but still active. People huddled in coats against the chilly March air, walking to and from restaurants and bars. In the few months Jana had worked at the store, shed come to see how safe the area was. Jana shared Wilberts view: surely the noise was something explainable. She went upstairs. For the next half hour, she and Ricardo went through their closing duties, typing away on computers, adding up receipts for the day.

Ricardo left at 10:56 P.M. Jana finished ten minutes later. She walked downstairs again, across the sales floor to the front door. A new security guard on duty let her out. The restaurant to her left was still open. To her right, the yoga store and the store beyond it were dark and closed. It was March 11, 2011, and all seemed normal.