Every Way He Turned, Couey Always Landed In Trouble
Published: Feb 12, 2007
From his bedroom window, John Evander Couey could see the searchers, hear the helicopters. A little girl was missing.
Couey later told detectives he knew where she was. For three days, he said, she lived in his closet. For three days, he told detectives in lengthy interviews, he molested her, raped her, then placed her in a pair of trash bags and buried her next to his back steps.
His sister and other housemates later told investigators that Couey never gave any indication he was the reason for the searchers.
Couey goes on trial today on charges he kidnapped, raped and killed 9-year-old Jessica Marie "Jessie" Lunsford in early 2005. If convicted, he will face the death penalty or life in prison.
Jurors won't hear Couey's statements about how he killed Jessie; a judge ruled those inadmissible. They are likely, however, to hear a lot about a man who, by his admission, never fit in.
"People don't like me for some reason," Couey told Citrus County detectives investigating Jessie's disappearance in March 2005.
A Trouble-Filled Life
Those who knew Couey before Jessie's death called him Johnny.
After he was charged, the boyish name went away. He became known as John Evander.
Couey was born in Orlando and bounced from home to home for most of his 48 years. Whether his stays were long or short, they often ended with Couey in trouble.
If Couey is convicted of killing Jessie, defense attorneys likely will point to his turbulent upbringing as a reason he should not receive the death penalty.
The hundreds of pages of depositions, prison records, transcripts and other files generated by the case paint a picture of an aimless man.
Frequently in trouble, Couey had been given numerous chances. His first came as a teenager, when a judge sentenced him to probation for breaking into homes while drunk.
Within three days, Couey was headed to prison. He never reported to his probation officer.
As a prisoner, Couey generally behaved. As a free man, he faltered.
Paroled in July 1980, Couey became a fugitive within a month. He moved and failed to tell authorities. They caught up with him the next year, after he broke into another home. He received a 10-year sentence but was released in 1984.
In his mid-20s, Couey met a single mother, and they moved to Crystal River.
They married in 1985; Karen Couey gave birth to a son.
The marriage didn't work, and the couple split in 1989.
Karen Couey, who may be called as a witness in the case, didn't see her husband again until 2005. By then, he was a suspect in Jessie's kidnapping and killing. His face was all over television and in newspapers.
The pair never got a divorce, Karen Couey told prosecutors. Shortly after their separation, she said, she gave up her children for adoption.
Throughout his marriage, Couey stayed out of legal trouble. Afterward, he again drifted.
In 1991, he was living in Kissimmee when he exposed himself to a 5-year-old girl living across the street.
Facing his third prison stint, Couey quickly admitted his actions, according to a transcript of his interview with a Kissimmee police officer. But he didn't want to go back to prison.
"I feel that prison ain't going to help me," he said, noting his quick previous releases.
"I am confessing, you know, to my crime that I committed tonight 'cause I want help for myself so I will never do this again."
Couey was sent back to prison in 1991 on the exposure charge. He was released in 1993 but violated his conditional release and was returned to prison in 1995, where he finished his sentence and was released in 1997 as a registered sex offender.
After his release, Couey drifted back to Citrus County, where his sister, Marie Dixon, was living.
Dixon was Couey's closest relative, and she allowed him to live with her and her husband. The only requirements were that Couey remain sober and drug-free.
The state, however, had its own requirements. Couey was ordered to attend a sex offender program that began in September 1997. By October, he still hadn't shown up, records show.
He eventually joined the program, and counselors noted that although Couey participated, he only sometimes saw the therapy as a learning tool and a way to not re-offend.
By 2005, Dixon's husband had died, and she moved to a trailer on Snowbird Lane, within sight of the Lunsfords' home.
She lived there with her boyfriend, daughter, son-in-law, grandson and Couey.
Couey didn't pay rent. He didn't work.
For a man who had blamed his previous crimes on alcohol and drugs, the trailer on Snowbird Lane was a poor environment.
Drugs and alcohol were frequently in the house. Couey and his sister regularly smoked crack cocaine, both told authorities.
The night Jessie disappeared, Dixon, her boyfriend and Couey smoked a $20 crack rock in the trailer's bathroom, the three told authorities.
'Abnormal Developmental Years'
In 1978, Couey, then 19, underwent his first intake screening for Florida prison officials.
Jailers noted everything from his 120-pound frame to the pair of scars above his forehead. They cataloged the tattoos on his forearms and his near-overdose on barbiturates about five years earlier.
As a child, Couey's psychological evaluations show, his stepfather was upset that Couey wet the bed. He repeatedly slammed a door onto Couey's head. The abuse left him brain-damaged, Couey said.
The psychologist measured his IQ as 71.
The psychologist agreed that Couey's rough upbringing may have played a role.
"It appears the subject's abnormal developmental years have largely contributed to subject's present anti-social behavior patterns," the psychologist wrote.
Couey repeated the story about abuse at his stepfather's hands. Relatives, including his sister, recounted the claims in depositions and interviews with detectives after Couey was arrested in Jessie's murder.
Couey's mother and stepfather, however, denied in depositions that the abuse happened; both may be called as witnesses during the death penalty phase if Couey is convicted.
A Religious Turn
For nearly two years, Couey has remained in a special wing of the Citrus County Jail. A guard monitors him constantly, noting every 15 minutes whether he is writing, watching television or sleeping.
There's little chance Couey ever will be free again, legal experts say. If Couey is convicted of first-degree murder, jurors can opt to sentence him to death by lethal injection or life in prison.
Couey has few visitors, and there are indications he talks to whomever he can.
When investigators visited him in late 2005 to take hair samples for DNA analysis, the normally quick process took more than two hours. Couey talked for most of it.
He asked whether Jessie's family had appeared in court.
Couey, who jailers say spends much of his time copying religious passages from books, looked to the future. Jessie's family would see her in heaven, crime scene investigator Daniel Holder recalled Couey saying.
Couey then made another statement, Holder recounted: "He also said that he believed that he would see [Jessie] in heaven, and that when he did, that he would apologize to her."
Couey's newfound religion bothers Jessie's father, Mark Lunsford.
"He found God," Lunsford said. "You don't find God. He's not lost. He's always been there. You were lost."
"It's disgusting."
Reporter Thomas W. Krause contributed to this report. Reporter Anthony McCartney can be reached at (813) 259-7616 or amccartney@tampatrib.com.