This Oklahoma TaleIs No Musical
(“Sunday School Ambush,” Forensic Files)
Who can resist a storyabout a Sunday School teacher gone homicidal?
And we’re not talking about someonewho suffers from psychosis and snaps one day.
Brenda Andrew was a sane, high-functioning mother of twowho nonetheless formulatedat least two plots tomurder her husband, Rob Andrew.
Try, try again. The first was staged in sucha way that it could have killed not just himbut also any number of incidental motorists andpedestrians.
Fortunately, that attempt on Rob Andrew’s life failed. But her second try succeeded. She devisedboth murder plans with the help of boyfriend and fellow Sunday School teacher James Pavatt.
The case isintriguing because it involves two killerswho most certainly believed in God.
Even people who doubt the existence of a divine entity worry a little bit that someone is up there watching when they throw a recyclablecontainer into the regular garbage.
Forging their way.Do avid worshippers like Brenda and James persuade themselves that the intended victim is sohorrible that God has deputized themto banish him from this earth?
Or maybe they think Godis distracted by March Madness orThe Bachelor: After the Final Rosewhile they’re practicing the victim’s signature for the insurance paperwork.
Whatever the case, here’s a recap of the episodealong with an epilogue and additionalintelligence culled from online sources:
The pretty, petite Brenda Evers was born in 1963 and grew up in a conservative family in Enid, Oklahoma, whereshe enrolled in baton-twirling class, was known for being quiet, and “always buttoned her clothes all the way up,” according to a former classmate interviewed by Ken Raymond forThe Oklahoman.
Likable victim. It’s not clear what kind of work she did after high school, butshe marriedbefore turning 21, to Rob Andrew, a tall young man who would go on to snag a high-paying job with Jordan Advertising, which countsOklahoma State University and energy giant OneOKamongits clients.
Rob sounded like a sweet guy. As anotherOklahomanstorybyKen Raymond noted:
No one would’ve described Rob Andrew as crazy, although he did do fun things like bringing slushes to everyone at work because he’d decided July 11 should be 7-Eleven day.Or like naming his daughter Tricity because if she ever ran for public office, her slogan could be “Elect Tricity.”
He also was a church deacon and did missionary work in South America. At the time of the murder, the couple had a son, Parker, 7, as well as Tricity, 11.Rob, 39, remained smitten withBrenda, 38, even as she grew moredissatisfied with him.
Perhaps she felt resentful about hitching up at such a young age or abouthaving parents who made sure she always conformed. At some point after marrying Rob, Brendabegan to wearalluring clothing. And she embarked on a series of affairs.
She and Rob separated and got back together at least once during this time.
Rob was an optimist and didn’t believe in divorce.
Still, the abuse Brenda dished out must have tested his forgivingnature.“Sunday School Ambush,” theForensic Filesepisode about the case,plays arehearsed, insulting message that Brenda left on Rob’s answering machine during their troubled relationship. She called him a “half dad.”
By2001, Brenda had taken up with Pavatt, who served asadeacon as well as a Sunday School teacher atthe North Pointe Baptist Church. The two lovebirds went ona vacation to Mexico along with Brenda’s kids.
Sign here. The church gently suggestedthat the home-wrecking Prudentialsalesmanand the erringwife step away from their teaching posts.
But at some point before everything blew up, Rob had trusted Pavatt enough to purchase from him an $800,000 life insurance policy with Brenda named as the beneficiary.
Brenda and Pavatt hopedto collect that payout viaa plot so clichéed it belongs in a made-for-TV movie. They cut the brakelines of Rob’s carandarranged for a fake “your wife has beenin an accident” call summoning him to the hospital immediately.
ButRob realizedright away that someone hadtampered with his Nissan, and he reported the entire incident to the authorities.Forensic Filesplayed the recording of Rob telling police he thought a murder plot was afoot. It’s not clear whether authorities did any kind of investigation as a result.
Pilot-light ploy. On her next try, Brendalured Rob, from whom she was then separated, into the garage of their Oklahoma City house when he came to pick up their kids for a visit on November 20, 2001.
Sheasked him to relight the furnace. When he knelt down to do so, Pavatt sneaked up and shot him in the abdomen with a 16-gauge shotgun. According toForensic Files, Robgrabbed a bag of metal cans from the garage floor to shield himself before Brenda fired a second, fatal bullet.
Then, more cliché. She had Pavatt shoot her in the proverbialfleshy part of a limb (an arm in this case) to make it look as though a couple of robbers had attackedboth Andrews.
To ensureno one saw him dashingfrom the crime scene,Pavatt hid out in the house of the Andrews’ neighbors, theGigstads, for a couple days. They were out of town and Judy Gigstad had given Brenda their spare key for safekeeping.
Brendacalled911and reported that two armed robberswearing masks shot Rob and her.
TheForensic Filesepisodes suggests thatBrenda’s voice sounds too calm on the 911 tape to be genuine. I don’t necessarily agree with that, because other episodes have pegged 911 calls as suspiciousbecause the voice is overdramatic.
Fugitives. Regardless,investigators got a strong hint when Brenda and Pavatt gathered up Tricity and Parker and fled to Mexico right around the time of Rob’s funeral.
Authorities distributed Wanted posters with the couple’s pictures, and they were caught a few months later as they tried to cross the border into Texas.
Pavatt’s defense lawyer subsequently pointed out that investigators had no DNA or fingerprints, only circ*mstantial evidence.
But there was plenty of it.First off, everyone knew about the extramarital affair.
Pre-Airbnb. And Gigstad and her husband reportedsigns thatsomeone had been in their house during their absence. There was a spent shell casing in the bedroomand a damaged shoe rack hidden under abed.
Police theorized that Pavatt had accidentally stepped on the shoe rack and then left behind the shell casing when the Gigstads’ son stopped in to collect their mail; Pavatt was ready to shoot him if confronted. Fortunately,the son didn’t see him, and departed unharmed.
There was lotsmore. Brenda’s woundappeared to have come from a gun heldjust inches away from her arm, which conflicted with thestory she gave police.
A handwriting expert determined that Rob’s signature had been forged on insurance papers that renamed Brenda as beneficiary.
Doctored docs. In later years, Rob had begun signing his name with an ichthus — the Christian fish symbol —as a flourish. It was missing from the papers that Pavatt claimed as genuine.
(On the validdocuments, Rob had changed the beneficiary designation to Tricity and Parker.)
The 2004 trials each ended with Brenda and Pavatt found guilty of first-degree murderand given a death sentence.Forensic Filesshows them shuffling aroundin chains and orangeuniforms.
It was a sad sight to behold but also a littlerefreshing to see that upper middle class defendants can’t always buytheir way out of justice.
Epilogue to date. So, where are they today?
Brenda hasn’t made a lot of wavesinside the Mabel Bass Correctional Facility in McLoud, Oklahoma. As of this writing, she’s on death row,with no execution date specified.
Pavatt has createdsomerumblings from his cell in Oklahoma State Penitentiary in McAlester — the same prison that spurredheadlines by botching the 2014 execution of Clayton Lockett.
Mike Arnett,Pavatt’s attorney, has campaigned to havethe prison’s three-drug execution proceduredeclared cruel and unusual punishment.
Oklahoma resumed executions in June 2015, when the state put to death child murdererCharles Frederick Warner.
In an odd turn, an accused killer namedZjaiton Tyrone Wood confessed to the shooting of Rob Andrew.
Arnett contends Pavatt didn’t receive a fair trial, in part because jurors didn’t seeWood’s confession letter.
No appointment.But Wood’sletter was no bombshell. Itcontained information about the crime that was already known to the public, and it failed to impress ajudge.
Still, Pavatt’s sentence was commuted to life.
No such luck for Brenda, but the last time an attractive white woman was facing the execution chamber — two decades ago — it caused a nationaluproar, with Jerry Falwell, Pat Buchanan, and other public figures arguing against carrying out Karla Faye Tucker’s death sentence. After statingthat he had thought and prayed about it, then-Texas Governor George W. Bush refused to commute Tucker’s death sentence, and it was carried out on February 3, 1998.
I have a feeling Brenda will be luckier. You’ll hear plenty about it viamedia outletsif the court sets anexecution date for her.
Let’s hope the powers that be, divine or secular, settleon the most appropriatepunishment for the murder ofRob Andrew, a nice man gone too soon.
That’s all for this post. Until next week, cheers. — RR
