Baker Matt - Deadly little secrets : the minister, his mistress, and a heartless Texas murder

KATHRYN CASEY is an award-winning journalist and author, who has written for Rolling Stone, TV Guide, Readers Digest, Texas Monthly and many other publications. Shes the author of six previous true crime books and the creator of the highly acclaimed Sarah Armstrong mystery series. Casey has appeared on Oprah, Oprah Winfreys Oxygen, Biography, Nancy Grace, E!, truTV, Investigation Discovery, the Travel Channel, and A&E. Casey is based in Houston, where she lives with her husband and their dog, Nelson. Visit her website at www.kathryncasey.com.

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D eadly Little Secrets took more than a year to complete. Before the writing could even begin, I attended Matt Bakers trial, then fanned out to track down and interview sources. That process alone consumed many months, requiring six trips back and forth to Waco from my Houston home, poring over documents, long weeks filled with face-to-face meetings and, once back in my office, long days on the phone consulting sources I couldnt visit in person.

I would, therefore, like to begin by thanking those people who shared their experiences with me, those who knew Kari and Matt Baker, their families and friends, the law enforcement folks who worked on this case, everyone who talked with me. Many of you are mentioned in the book, some are not, but Im grateful to you all. Matts and Karis stories are important, shedding a light on how religion can be manipulated for evil ends. Without all of you, I couldnt have told it.

Thank you to everyone at HarperCollins, especially my editor, Will Hinton, and art director Gail Dubov and designer Nadine Badalaty, who provided the wonderful cover. Thank you as well to my agent, Jane Dystel.

In addition, Id like to acknowledge my friend Kathy L. Patrick, founder of the Pulpwood Queens, a book club phenomenon that began in the small town of Jefferson, Texas, one that has grown to become a force in the publishing world. I met Kathy in her combination bookstore/beauty parlor five years ago, and shes enriched my life in more ways than I can describe through her generosity, her dynamic personality, her enthusiasm for books and literacy, and introducing me to the esteemed PQs, passionate women who advocate for literacy and the power of the written word to change lives.

As always, thank you to my friends and family whove supported me so loyally over the years, understanding when Im on the road for weeks at a time or locked in my office writing day after day. Please know that although I dont say it as often as I should, I love and appreciate each and every one of you.

Finally, Id like to express my deep gratitude to my readers, those of you who enjoy my books and recommend them to others. You are the most important element in the equation. Thank you.

Non-Fiction

Deadly Little Secrets

Shattered

Evil Beside Her

A Descent Into Hell

Die, My Love

She Wanted It All

A Warrant to Kill

Fiction

Singularity

Blood Lines

The Killing Storm

True Crime Shorts

The Drag Queen Murder

True Crime Files

Blues & Bad Blood

Texas Love Triangle Murder

I t was earlier, before that final chapter unfolded at the custody trial, when I went to the Dulins house outside Waco. Seated in the kitchen, I interviewed Jim, Linda, and the angels, Lindsey, Nancy, and Kay. It was a spirited conversation, one in which they talked of the dark suspicions that had led them to take the actions that eventually brought Matt Baker to justice. But more than that, they wanted to talk about Kari. Kari was an extraordinary woman and mother, and we loved her. We still love her, said Nancy. She should be here with her children. She should be here with her mom and dad.

Many of the women said theyd been inspired by her memory. Lindsey had gone back to college, determined to become a teacher. I knew Kari would have whomped me if I dropped out, Lindsey said with a laugh. She thought about Kari, the strong woman they all knew. The hardest thing at the trial was hearing how Matt had left Kari defenseless. But if he hadnt, she would have kicked his ass.

Vanessas name came up often, and everyone at the table agreed that they still wondered if Matts ex-mistress had told everything on the stand. Could she have been involved in the actual planning? No one knew, but like so many others, they had little sympathy for her. I dont see Vanessa as a victim, said Lindsey. It blew my mind that she didnt think shed done anything wrong.

What had all of them learned from what theyd been through? We made a pact, Nancy explained, reflecting on all the years theyd kept Matts secrets by not telling Linda what theyd seen and heard. No matter how mad someone will get, how upset, we tell each other the truth.

My interview with Matt Baker took place the fall before the custody trial, ten months after his murder trial ended. On that November day, I left my Houston home and drove north to Livingston, Texas. The Texas Department of Criminal Justices Allan B. Polunsky Unit is off a quiet rural road, and I drove past hole-in-the-wall restaurants, ramshackle wooden houses on stilts, and a trailer park to get there. I also passed a sprinkling of small, clapboard churches, some with spires reaching toward the heavens. At least two were Baptist, and they reminded me of Pecan Grove, the historic church where Baker began his ministerial career.

At the prison gates, I identified myself and was waved through. The prison houses approximately three thousand inmates, including TDCJs death row in a two-story, boxy-looking building, detached from the main facility. Like most prisons, Polunsky is a concrete building with slits for windows, watched over by armed guards in high towers, enclosed by a razor-wire-topped fence.

In the parking lot, I left my purse with my cell phone and wallet in my trunk. All I took in was a folder with a pad of paper, my typed questions, two pens, two tape recorders, extra batteries and tapes, and my drivers license, which I turned in to be held until I left. In its place, I was given a red plastic visitors pass to wear around my neck.

No matter how many times Ive entered a jail or prison, the echoing clank of the metal doors slamming behind me always sends a cold shiver through me. Intellectually, I know I can leave at any time, but theres a finality about hearing the doors lock. At that moment, Ive entered another world.

In the visitors room, I sat in booth 31 and waited, my tape recorder plugged into the phone line. A thick sheet of Plexiglas separated me from the enclosure in which Matt would sit. Our appointment was for one oclock, but the minutes passed. He was late. Does he know Im here? I asked a guard.

Yes, I was told. She then mentioned that Matt had signed a form with the date and time of our meeting. Theyre saying that he went to his cell to get cleaned up.

That was fine. I didnt mind. So I reviewed my questions and waited. About forty minutes later, metal gates swung open and shut, and there was Matt, looking dapper in his prison whites, his hair carefully combed. The guard locked the door and left us. One reason I was there, of course, was to get a feel for Matt Baker, to judge for myself, yet it took me aback when the first thing he said to me was a lie. Scoffing, he shook his head. Im sorry you had to wait. They never let me know when you were coming.