What happened: from backstory to arrest

Honorable Kirk Johnson
Eighth Circuit Court
Miller Country, Arkansas
Case no. CR 2002-451-3

21 Feb 2008

Your Honor:
I want to inform the Court that my legal appeals have concluded. I want to fulfill my obligation to society and bring closure for my family. With utmost respect for the Court, I want to give a full account of my involvement in the death and disappearance of Roy Baskett.

I first became acquainted with Roy during the 1990s when I was delivering packages for UPS on a downtown route. One of my regular deliveries was to an insurance office where Roy was employed. He always appeared well dressed, courteous, and professional. Our encounters were pleasant and brief. I never got to know him well at that time. In 2000, I was reassigned to inter-city long-haul trucks which had me working nights, driving at different times to Little Rock, Dallas, and Shreveport.

Lisa and I were living in a duplex apartment on Locust Street when we were married in January 2002. Betty Tullis occupied the adjacent unit. Roy was her boyfriend. He visited Betty frequently and spent a fair amount of time at her duplex.

As Spring approached, the weather warmed, and we began spending more time outside. Roy and I renewed our acquaintance. He had been retired about three years. He seemed different from the professional type that I remembered him to be. He had let himself go. He appeared dirty and unkempt. He kept an ice chest full of beer in the trunk of his car and held a drink in his hand almost constantly. He carried a small loaded revolver in his pocket, and a .357 Magnum in his car.

Roy seemed delusional. I'd heard that he once spent a couple of weeks at summer training camp with the National Guard back in the 1960s. He now fancied himself as a combat veteran and American war hero. He liked to impress Lisa and the boys by making up war stories about flying reconnaissance missions from Vietnam over Laos. He had assigned himself the moniker "Captain," and was contemptuous of anyone who had not served in the military. It all seemed a bit comical.

His car was beat up and not well maintained. I took him on errands a few times when it wasn't running. One time I specifically recall was to Dr. Smith's office at Southern Clinic. Another time was when I towed his car to Wilson Tire Co. Then I took him back over there the next day to pick it up. I think Lisa may have taken him to a few places in my truck because she didn't want him in her car.

From the outset, we never had much in common with Roy or Betty. Our relationship with him would not have progressed beyond neighborly greetings but for Lisa's duplicity. Roy had an eye for younger women and he began to indulge an attraction to Lisa. She soon learned that he had money. He had taken a substantial lump sum retirement and kept it in a checking account. Roy was generous with money and gifts to any woman who would give him attention. It seemed that he would give anything just to have a girlfriend. Lisa caught on quickly and was soon batting her eyes and wagging her tail for him. She found him repugnant; nevertheless, she would tolerate his presence to take anything he offered.

At one point she thought he would loan her money to buy a house. I told her that we didn't need his money. We had adequate income and we could buy a house with legitimate bank financing. I told her that she was playing with fire, that Roy was giving her money only because he expected sexual favors in return.

By late Spring Roy and Betty had separated. Betty had moved from the Locust ST duplex to a house she had purchased on the Texas side. Due to my overnight work schedule, Roy decided that Lisa needed protection, so he bought her a gun, a small .22 caliber automatic. Lisa was afraid of guns and didn't want any part of it. Roy kept bugging her so she reluctantly took it just to pacify him.

Some time in June Lisa introduced Roy to her friend and coworker, Lisa Hickey. She was on the outs with her husband and needed money. Lisa Ridling thought Roy would help her out. He did, giving her $500 cash upon meeting her. He told her he was happy to help, and she could come stay with him at his house if she liked. The money was intended for apartment rent, but Lisa Hickey went on a small shopping spree and had her ass tattooed. She showed Roy her tattoo, but he was disappointed that she didn't move in with him. Within a few days, Lisa Hickey was back home with her husband, but continued to come by Roy's periodically to hit him up for money.

One day the phone rang while I was asleep. It was Roy. He said that Lisa Hickey had been to his house and stole his wallet. He was upset about losing his military dog tags that he kept in his wallet. I told Roy that I didn't know what he was talking about, and if he had an issue with Lisa Hickey, then he needed to take it up with her. He accused Lisa Ridling of being in on the alleged theft and wanted her to get Lisa Hickey to return his dog tags. I told him that I had to go to work later and I needed to get some sleep. I asked him not to call anymore during the day when I was asleep.

On July 23rd, Roy came to the house while I was at work. As usual, he was drunk. He had been out to the Hickey's trailer off of HWY 108 to talk to Lisa Hickey. He was obsessed with the loss of his dog tags, but the Hickeys wouldn't open the door, and threatened to call the police if he didn't leave. He put a lock on their gate as he left to agitate and piss them off.

He blamed Lisa for bringing Lisa Hickey around, and that she was now obligated to get his dog tags back. As they talked, an unusual noise caught Roy's attention. It came from around the side of the house. Earlier that day, I had borrowed an animal trap cage from the city animal control department to catch a pesky raccoon that had been getting into our trash and spreading it around the neighborhood. Roy went to see what the noise was all about, and when he saw the trapped raccoon, he flew into a rage, and using some heavy tool, demolished the cage in order to set the animal free.

I reported the incident to the police the next day because I didn't want to be charged for the cage. I had hoped they would talk to Roy about it, but the officer who came out said it wasn't serious enough to bother with.

On Saturday, August 3rd, my son Cale and I went shopping at Wal-Mart. Little League baseball would be starting soon and he needed a new bat. We selected one and took it home along with some other stuff. Upon closer examination of the bat's label, we found that it was not the right type for his league play. We decided the bat should be returned and exchanged for the right type.

Later that evening around dusk, Roy showed up at our home armed like he was expecting a gun fight. His snub nose revolver bulged in his pocket, his .357 Magnum protruded from his belt. He was drunk and agitated. He was angry and obsessed over his dog tags. He blamed Lisa Ridling for it and wanted her to confront Lisa Hickey for him. He insisted that Lisa was capable of getting his dog tags back, but she just wouldn't do it.

I told him the wallet and dog tags are probably long gone, and that if Lisa Hickey did take his wallet, she helped herself to the money and threw the rest into the nearest trash can or dumpster. Roy didn't want to hear it. He began raising his voice and cursing. I told Roy to leave. The arguing back and forth was getting loud. With all the noise and commotion, I didn't want the neighbors calling the police on us, thinking we're a bunch of hoodlum hell-raisers.

Roy wanted me to come outside and fight him. I told him that I wasn't going to fight him; that he was an old man, drunk, and packing heat. I told him to leave and get out of here before he really pissed me off. Roy, not being accustomed to being denied his demands, was so upset at us that he demanded the return of the .22 automatic pistol he had given Lisa Ridling. We gave the gun back to Roy and he finally left.

Lisa and I sat outside for a while. She was telling me that she was fed up with Roy's antics. That he kept blaming her for his dog tags being stolen. She was terrified that he would come back after I'd gone to work. She didn't want him around the kids with his guns. And she was angry with me because I wasn't taking it seriously enough. She wanted me to "do something about it." I told her that bringing Lisa Hickey to him was just begging for trouble. I asked her what exactly she expected me to do about it. She didn't know, but I would have to figure something out because she didn't want him to come there anymore.

Just before midnight, we noticed Roy's car going west on 32nd ST towards State Line. Lisa grabbed her phone and called 911 to report Roy DWI. Then she got in her car and followed him. She gave up the chase when he got close to Spring Lake Park and it was obvious he was headed for Betty's house. Apparently, the police never responded to Lisa's call. I went to bed shortly thereafter.

I awoke at about 11a Sunday morning, August 4th (2002). Lisa was all over me again. It was like she had stayed awake all night thinking about it. She wanted to know what I was going "to do about Roy." She went through everything all over again. I told her to calm down. I didn't know what I was going to do, but told her not to worry, I'll take care of it.

I showered and put on some jogging clothes. Cale's bat was next to the door, the receipt was in my billfold. I took the bat along so I'd have it the next time I was near Wal-Mart. I told Lisa I was going jogging and would return Cale's bat, and I'd meet them later. She and the kids were going to lunch at Wendy's.

As I backed out of the driveway, I tried to think of how I could keep Roy from coming back to my home. I would be going to work later that day, and I didn't want him coming back while I was gone. I decided to just go there and talk to him myself. I thought if it were just between him and me, without women around for him to impress, he might be more inclined to listen to reason.

When I got there, I turned onto 15th ST and parked at the side of his house (not on the street?). I went up to the front door and knocked. I didn't go inside. I just talked through the screen. I started to tell him that this was serious. Lisa was pissed. She didn't want him coming to the house anymore.

Roy wasn't hearing any of it. He told me that bitch wife of mine was the cause of all this when she brought Lisa Hickey around asking for money. He said that added up to me owing him a favor. He wanted to go to Lisa Hickey's to get his dog tags back. But he didn't think he could get near their place with his car because she's see him coming like last time. Roy wanted me to take him in my truck so Lisa Hickey would think it was Lisa Ridling coming to visit.

It suddenly struck me as a pretty good idea. I was losing my patience with him. I thought I might just drop him off at their gate and leave him there. We got in the truck and headed out 15th ST and then toward HWY 67.

As we went along HWY 67N near the cemetery, Roy was ranting and raving about dog tags. We started arguing. I reminded him again that he would not get them back because she most likely threw everything else away but the money. He wasn't hearing any of it. He was ranting something about "if that bitch threw away my dog tags, I'll kill that slut." I looked over and he had his gun out, saying he had just the "persuasion" here to do it. He was waving his .38 snub nose revolver around.

I told him to put it away, that I wasn't taking him over there to kill somebody. I told him one day someone was going to take that gun away from him and shoot him with it if he continued to wave it around like he was some bad ass. He told me I wasn't going to tell him what to do. He said he was "the Captain" in charge of this mission and I was to follow his orders. He said I was a damn coward that never served his country. He cocked the hammer and pointed his gun at me.

I knew I had to do something. I wasn't going to let this guy order me around, and maybe shoot me over some stupid dog tags. I thought I could snatch the gun out of his hand with a real quick move. I reached over and grabbed the barrel, trying to twist it out of his hand in one quick motion, but he surprised me with a stronger grip than I expected. I was panicking now, trying to wrestle the gun away from Roy. I knew I couldn't let go of it. I was sure he would do something stupid, like shoot me just to prove he was in charge.

I glanced in the mirror to be sure no one was behind me, and then I stomped on the brakes, throwing Roy into the dash, and at the same time the gun went off, shooting Roy in the chest. Roy was slumped forward against the dash. I reached down in front of him to pick up his gun and put it under my seat, just in case he came around.

I didn't know what to do. I was in a cold sweat panic. I couldn't stop shaking. I couldn't get my mind to focus on anything. I couldn't think.

Then a car came by and the guy waved at me. It snapped me out of it. I figured the next one might be a cop to see if I needed help. I couldn't just sit there and let that happen. How could I explain? Lisa didn't know I was going anywhere with Roy. The Hickeys didn't know we were headed to their place. For the moment, all I could think to do was get back on the road and keep moving. It would give me time to figure out what to do. So I raised Roy upright into the seat and fastened his seatbelt. Then I pulled onto HWY 67 and continued North.

In hindsight, I should have reported it immediately. That would have meant explaining Lisa's duplicity throughout the past six months that had brought Roy and me together that day, and that would mean all be revealed. She was my wife and I didn't want to cause her embarrassment. I didn't know if she was even back me up.

I was unable to think rationally. I was in shock and wandering aimlessly up HWY 67, trying to avoid traffic. I was trying to think of what to do with his body. I didn't have much time. I had to be at work in a few hours. I knew the wildlife area north of Hope would be deserted this time of year. I was already headed in that direction. I could get there by keeping to the backroads through Fulton, Crossroads, and Old Washington.

At the Hope WMA (Wildlife Management Area), I placed Roy in a small thicket of brush right off the road to the parking area. Time was getting away from me. I had to get back to Texarkana to avoid creating a stir with Lisa and my son. I kept to the backroads again because I didn't want to be seen. When I got to the bridge at Fulton, I threw Roy's gun into the Red River.

When I got back to town I turned off onto Arkansas Blvd and headed towards the UPS building. I wanted to see what they had scheduled for me. I also wanted to clean the truck. As I turned right onto the access road, I noticed that my left rear tire was flat. I'd never had to use the jack or change a tire on this truck before. It took me a while to put the spare on. I was so hot and sweaty when I finished, that I just wanted to get home and clean up.

I pulled off my clothes and running shoes and put them all in the washing machine. Lisa wanted to know where'd I'd been. I told her that I'd been jogging and had a flat. She wanted to know if I was going to do anything about Roy. I told her not to worry, that he wouldn't be coming around or bothering her.

When I got to the UPS building, I pulled my truck up near the wash bay. I brought out the hose and washed down the passenger seat. I parked my truck in the usual place, checked in, and started my routine.

As I drove my route that night, I thought about what was at the Hope WMA. I figured Roy's body wouldn't last long in this August heat. But his clothes would still be there long after his body was gone. So the next morning I went back up there, removed his shoes and clothes, and stuffed them in a trash bag. I piled some brush on him and started back home. I dropped the bag of clothes in a convenience store dumpster near I-30 and Hope.

On the afternoon of Wednesday, August 7th, police officers approached Lisa at her job. I never told Lisa what happened to Roy. Nevertheless, she told the police that we had not seen him in over two weeks. As they concluded their interview with her, I was at Wal-Mart returning Cale's bat when she caught with me, and told me what she had said. I couldn't believe that she had lied to them. I reminded her that the whole neighborhood knew he was at our home on the previous Saturday night, and that she had called 911 reporting him DWI later that evening.

I told her that since she had already told them that, we had better not change her story.

By the end of August, it was clear that I was the prime suspect for the "murder" of Roy Baskett. My home had been searched and my truck had been seized. On Friday, August 30th, I took the ill-conceived notion to go to Hope WMA to check on things. I brought along my ax to cut more brush, were it needed to further conceal him.

Arriving at the WMA, I encountered the State Wildlife Officer, Terry Rogers. After he left, I set about cutting brush and piling it over Roy's body. Suddenly, I thought I heard someone talking near my truck at the parking area. I caught a glimpse of what I perceived to be another truck close to mine. I dropped my ax and walked back to my truck. There was no one around, but I was paranoid and got out there quickly. When I got home I realized I'd left my ax behind.

Regarding my ax, I want to make this clear: Roy's body was not "chopped up" as prosecutors were allowed to speculate. Investigators searching the area found no evidence to support this conjecture. The jury was told that an ax had been found and sent to the State Crime Lab for examination. They were never told at trial that no report had been made of any findings regarding Roy's DNA evidence — or my own fingerprints — on the ax itself. The jury was told that a "suspicious looking stump" had been sent to the State Crime Lab for examination. Again, the jury was never told there no report of any findings.

Investigators who searched the area testified that layers of brush had been deliberately and neatly placed on top of Roy's body in an obvious attempt to conceal it. They testified that Roy's entire body completely decomposed in one place; and that it had been consumed by maggots, insects, and wild animals. The State Medical Examiner testified that this natural process, given the time elapsed in this case, would cause human remains to scatter and disappear. He testified that his examination found no evidence of blunt force trauma, and he could not rule that Roy's death was a homicide.

Not a single witness gave any testimony to support these inflammatory comments about Roy's body being "chopped up." Indeed, the evidence presented by the State clearly contradicts this hypothesis. My ax was used solely to cut brush to cover Roy's body.

A month later on Wednesday, September 25th, I was arrested for the kidnapping and capital murder or Roy. Lisa, clueless to what had happened to Roy, became the State's prime witness, offering everything she could to stay out of jail.

I remained in Miller County Jail three months before I was able to talk with a lawyer. At my trial, I chose to deny involvement in Roy's disappearance because the truth was embarrassing and incriminating. And, the State's evidence was not sufficient to sustain charges of premeditated kidnapping and murder.

Following my conviction, the appeals process got underway. It continued for four years, and during that time I was advised not to make any statements about my case.

I am deeply remorseful for what I did with Roy. Covering up his death was wrong and irresponsible. Lying to investigators and to the jury was wrong, and I am truly sorry for my actions.

— Robbin Ridling