Murder, Misconduct and Justice Delayed

On his last day of freedom, Scott Dekraai spoke on the phone with his ex-wife. Let’s meet for coffee, he suggested.

Michelle Fournier was shocked. A day earlier they had squared off at yet another court hearing in their acrimonious battle over custody of their eight-year-old son. Things had not gone Dekraai’s way at the hearing, and the argument had continued on the phone, until Dekraai brought his ex-wife up short with his suggestion that they meet in person.

No way, Fournier responded. She did not want to see him. Definitely not. This would prove to be a fateful decision. If he couldn’t have a one-on-one, Dekraai decided after hanging up on Fournier, he’d just have to confront his ex-wife at her workplace instead—one last time. Then he walked out to his garage to survey his well-oiled collection of five pistols, four rifles, and a 12-gauge shotgun.

The violence that followed just a few hours later would make national headlines. It would alter the course of lives and families for years to come. It would drag the peaceful, tight-knit community of Seal Beach into an exclusive club no one wishes to join: the fraternity of towns marred by mass murder. And, finally, the official response to Scott Dekraai’s rampage would expose and shame Orange County authorities who, in their zeal to ensure a win in court, had stopped playing by the rules that ensure justice for all.   

Scott Dekraai, without ever knowing it, had exposed the snitch tank. 

Read more at the Orange County Register or get the eBook here via the Kindle Store—my first true crime book since Mississippi Mud and Mean Justice.