Free You Can Run but You Can't Hide by Duane Dog Chapman Page B

I was no killer.
    Another officer came running toward the car. It was J. J. Riz-
    man, a cop I knew well from my youth in Denver who happened to
    move to Pampa. He had his gun drawn.
    “You’re finally going down, Dog Chapman.” Rizman smirked
    while Bailey gingerly cuffed me.
    I was placed in the backseat of the patrol car while they waited
    for backup.
    I tried to explain what happened, but Rizman didn’t care about
    what I had to say. He wasn’t the type of cop who was interested in
    hearing the facts. Over the years, I haven’t met many who were, but
    Rizman seemed to be downright happy about my taking the fall.
    He told me I was under arrest for the big one. I told him I
    wanted to exercise my rights and we sat silent for the ride to jail.
    Later that day, the police picked up Donny, Cheryl, and Ruben
    in Amarillo. By nightfall, we were all sitting in small holding cells
    on the top floor of the Pampa courthouse. We were charged the
    next morning. The DA went for first-degree murder. Each of us
    would be charged the same. Under Texas law at the time, anyone
    who was with someone and aided them in the commission of a
    crime was equally guilty of the crime. As far as the DA was con-
    cerned, we were all guilty of murdering Jerry Lee Oliver.
    C h a p t e r N i n e
    MURDER ONE
    The judge set bail at fifty thousand dollars each. There was
    no way I was getting out of jail. As it was, my job barely paid me
    enough to cover my bills. I tried to make extra money by renting
    a room to women, but I always ended up sleeping with them before
    I could collect the rent. They’d leave, or I’d kick them out so La-
    Fonda wouldn’t know the truth. Whenever I had an extra few
    bucks, I squandered it on weed, whores, or my bike.
    I sat in my cell with nothing to do but think. I had really messed
    things up. I didn’t realize how much I loved LaFonda and our boys
    until I sat alone in my cell that first night in jail. I’d taken so much
    for granted—my family, my freedom, my entire life. Suddenly it
    was all gone. I hated Donny for screwing it up. My anger grew with
    every painful passing second. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.
    Yeah, I know. A guy died. Someone had to pay for taking his life.
    Someone had to own up to the crime—to take the responsibility for
    what he’d done. Why did Donny do it? Why’d he shoot Jerry Lee?
    Why didn’t I stop him? Why didn’t I know he had the gun?
    There were many times I wondered if Jerry Lee would’ve been
    killed if I hadn’t been there that night. He was my friend. I don’t be-
    lieve Donny would have gone to his house if I hadn’t been in the car.
    Did that make me responsible? Did that make me accountable? The
    more I thought about this, the angrier I got. My rage was becoming
    unmanageable. If I was going to rot in jail for killing a man, I might
    M u r d e r O n e
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    as well kill one. I wanted to rip someone’s head off. I didn’t care
    who it was.
    My rage was out of control. The sheriff would put all the
    drunks in with me and “encourage them” to help settle me down . I
    beat the crap out of every guy they put in there with me. I was un-
    stoppable.
    I would’ve beaten up a minister if they’d put one in the cell
    with me.
    Reverend Gerald Middaugh from Pampa’s Assembly of God
    church wasn’t your typical preacher man. He looked eighteen years
    old, even though he was in his early thirties. It didn’t seem like he
    was old enough to be a reverend. I wasn’t sure why he came to visit
    me in jail, but I was certain I wanted nothing to do with whatever
    he had to say. I was still angry about the whole situation. I didn’t do
    anything wrong. I wasn’t supposed to be in jail.
    The Reverend stood outside my cell and began to talk.
    “Dog, do you mind if I call you Dog?” He looked scared as hell.
    “LaFonda tells me you were once a spiritual man. She said you
    have a strong belief in the Lord. I’m here today to talk to you about
    that.”
    I stared