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After almost 4 decades, El Paso mom prepares to watch daughter’s killer die [1]
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Date: 2025-03-04
This is the first of a two-part series. Coming Wednesday: Convicted killer David Leonard Wood mounts a last-ditch appeal to stop his execution.
On Nov. 2, 1987, Marcia Fulton said a final goodbye to her 15-year-old daughter, Desiree Autumn Wheatley, whose remains had been found 10 days earlier in a shallow grave in the Northeast El Paso desert.
“I just patted the casket and I gave it a kiss. And I told her, I said, ‘Baby, we’ll find out who did this, and they will pay for it. I promise you that.’ And gave her another little kiss, and me and (daughter) Sundee walked away,” Fulton said.
The grave of Desiree Wheatley is in Restlawn Cemetery in Northeast El Paso, next to that of her sister, Sundee McPhearson, who died in 2016. (Corrie Boudreaux/El Paso Matters)
Barring a last-minute court intervention, sometime after 6 p.m. March 13, Fulton hopes to fulfill her promise to her daughter by watching as the state of Texas executes the man convicted of killing the daughter she calls Desi and five other girls and young women almost four decades ago.
Fulton had made a trip to Huntsville in 2009 with Sundee, expecting to witness the execution of David Leonard Wood, but a court blocked the death sentence so it could review claims that Wood had an intellectual developmental disability that would bar capital punishment.
Years passed as Wood filed and lost more appeals. He has continued to maintain his innocence.
Over the decades, Fulton refused to let Wood consume her life. But she vowed to make sure her time on Earth didn’t end before his, so she could keep that promise to Desi.
Fulton – who was known as Marcia Wheatley when Desiree vanished June 2, 1987 – became a certified wildlife rehabilitator, volunteering her time rescuing baby mammals that were injured or had lost their parents. She made a couple of unsuccessful runs for elected office.
She married Robert Fulton, who she was dating when Desi disappeared, and they built a happy life together, driving their motorhome across the country.
She lives in a modest mobile home in Northeast El Paso. The home is decorated with photos of her children and the animals she loves. She shares the home with a 6-year-old Maltese, Muppet, and the occasional baby squirrel or raccoon she is nursing back to life. Muppet will stand guard over the baby mammals if Fulton has to step away.
Robert Fulton, the retired director of the El Paso Zoo, died of cancer in 2006.
Fulton’s older daughter, Sundee McPhearson, died in 2016, 10 days shy of her 46th birthday. She was 17 months older than Desi, and drew strength from her younger sister, their mother said.
“I can’t 100% prove it, but I know it was because of Desi’s death, even though it was years after. But she never got over that,” Fulton said. Sundee had mental illness, including eating disorders, that took a toll. Fulton took in her surviving daughter to give her a “calm place.”
“And one morning I got up, and she wasn’t up yet. So, I thought, well, maybe she’s still sleeping. But then she wasn’t up. So, I went into her bedroom, found her on the floor dead. Her heart gave out,” she said.
‘Baby, we’ll find out who did this, and they will pay for it. I promise you that.’ Marcia Fulton
On Feb. 24, the U.S. Supreme Court declined to hear an appeal from Wood, removing another barrier to his execution by lethal injection March 13.
His attorney filed new appeals Feb. 21 with the judge overseeing the case and the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals, but those courts have repeatedly rebuffed appeals in recent years. In a ruling last year, the Court of Criminal Appeals said Wood “has a pattern of piecemeal litigation and delay” in his appeals.
Fulton plans to once again make the journey to Huntsville, as she did in 2009. In recent days she has battled respiratory illness, which could impact her travel plans. If she does go to Huntsville, she won’t have family with her this time.
“I’ve lost my mom, my dad, my youngest daughter, my oldest daughter, my husband. I keep asking people, ‘How many pieces of your heart could you lose and still be alive?’ I got so much of it ripped out, but I’m still here. And I’ll be here. I mean, I’m hoping I’ll still be here after the execution because I don’t know if that’s what’s keeping me alive or not, to be honest. I mean, I’m 72.”
‘A very honest little girl’
Desiree Autumn Wheatley was a high energy girl, her mother says.
“She had all the energy in the world. From the time she woke up in the morning, she was nonstop all day, all day, all day,” Fulton said. “In the evening, if she stopped, that’s where she went to sleep. I had found her asleep in the hall because she didn’t get to her bedroom before she went to sleep several times.”
Desi’s energy spilled over to Sundee, who was more reserved.
“Desi would always say, ‘Come on, let’s go. Let’s go outside’. She kept her moving. And if it wasn’t for Desi, she’d never go out of the house much,” Fulton said.
Desiree Wheatley was 15 when she was killed. This photo was shared repeatedly over the years by media. (Photo courtesy El Paso Times)
Her younger daughter made friends easily, even after moving to Northeast El Paso from the East Coast in 1986, she said. Desi was a eighth-grade student at H.E. Charles Middle School, a short walk from the family home on Tiber Place.
“She was very caring. She had so many friends because she was a very honest little girl. If they wanted an opinion of something, they would always ask her because they knew she wouldn’t lie to them.”
When she came to El Paso, Fulton was going through a divorce, so she and her daughters moved in with her parents, Roy and Helen Blaine. Fulton was able to take a third-shift job at the Rockwell International plant on Railroad Drive because her parents could care for Sundee and Desi after school and at night.
“Mom was always there. My dad worked for quite a while, but mom was always there. She’d always have their snack ready for them. She’d always have supper ready. She’d make their lunches because I’d be asleep, because I wouldn’t get in until 2, 2:30 (a.m.)”
Fulton was rebuilding a life in El Paso. Living with her parents allowed her to save money so she and the girls could eventually get a place of their own.
“Life was good, and I didn’t have any problems with either one of them. They were just good kids. Yes, (Desi) was a little bit more rambunctious, but in a good way.”
‘Desi’s not home yet’
On June 2, 1987 – a Tuesday – Fulton had come home shortly after getting off work at 2 a.m. at Rockwell. Desi woke her a few hours later.
“She came in, she goes, ‘Mom, can you take me to get film for my camera?’ I said, ‘Oh, honey, can we do it tomorrow?’ She goes, ‘No, today’s the last day of school.’ ‘OK, give me a minute.’”
As they prepared to leave, Desi had a request.
“She goes, ‘Can I wear a white T-shirt to school today? Because I want to get all my friends to sign it.’ I said, ‘Sure, go ahead.’”
A classmate signed Desiree Wheatley’s T-shirt on the last day of classes at H.E. Charles Middle School on the last day of school, June 2, 1987. Desi, as she was known, disappeared hours later. The prosecution used the photo as evidence in David Wood’s 1992 capital murder trial.
Fulton and Desi drove to several Northeast stores looking for film for her camera, but the first few stores didn’t have the film in stock. They finally found some and headed home.
“We were just about to turn where we lived, which is like half a block from the school. And she goes, ‘That’s OK. I’ll walk.’ I said, ‘OK.’ So, she gets out and she walks. She’s walking in front of me, and I’m sitting there watching her as she goes away. And she turns around, she goes, ‘I love you, Mom, thanks.’ And I said, ‘Love you, too, baby. I’ll see you tonight.’
“Well, that was the last conversation we had. And I pray to God every day, thank you for that.” Her last words with her 15-year-old daughter were expressions of mutual love.
Marcia Fulton last saw her 15-year-old daughter, Desiree Wheatley, as she got out of a car near their home on Tiber Place and walked the short distance to H.E. Charles Middle School. (Robert Moore/El Paso Matters)
Fulton headed to work each day in the afternoon, before her daughters were home from school. But her mother was there, as usual, to care for Sundee and Desi when they came home.
“She got them a snack, and then they go and have supper. She had hot dogs for supper. Then after that, they were going to go to their girlfriends’ friends house, both of them.”
Sundee and Desi had the same friend group. After dinner, they walked to a home on Rushing Road in Northeast El Paso, about 10 minutes from their house.
‘She goes, ‘I love you, Mom, thanks.’ And I said, ‘Love you, too, baby. I’ll see you tonight.’ Marcia Fulton on her last conversation with her daughter Desi
“Their curfew was 8 o’clock, always 8 o’clock. And so Desi called and asked her grandma, ‘Grandma, can we stay until 10?’ She says, ‘We’re just having a lot of fun.’ And mom says, ‘Well, you know, you make a lot of noise when you come in late at night.’ She goes, ‘I won’t, I promise.’”
Sundee came home on her own. The investigation would later determine that Desi had walked to a nearby Circle K with a friend, where they bought a couple of items and headed in opposite directions to their homes.
As usual, Fulton came home shortly after 2 a.m. It was now Wednesday, June 3, 1987.
“My mom meets me at the front door. She goes, ‘We have a problem.’ I said, ‘What?’ She goes, ‘Desi’s not home yet.’
‘There’s something drastically wrong here’
Fulton called police to report her daughter missing, and was told an officer would be sent to their house.
“I knew they would want pictures of her. So I started going through picture albums and finding pictures of her. And every picture I looked at her, her face, the saying it felt like somebody just walked over my grave, is the feeling I got.”
An El Paso police officer arrived later that morning.
“And he says, ‘Well, we’ll put her down right now as a runaway.’ I said, ‘She didn’t run away.’ And he says, ‘Well, look, Mrs. Wheatley, we’ve had teenagers up to here tonight, last day (of school).’ OK, well, I’m sorry, but I’ve got a child missing.”
Desiree Wheatley was last seen leaving a Circle K convenience store at the intersection of Rushing Road and Salem Drive in Northeast El Paso. Her home was three blocks toward the mountains. (Robert Moore/El Paso Matters)
Fulton pleaded her case with the officer that her daughter wasn’t a runaway because she wasn’t upset and had been granted a curfew extension by her grandmother. But the officer phoned in her status as a runaway.
“He says, ‘Well, we’ll change that when the time comes.’ And that’s when I said, ‘When? When you find her body?’ And the officer got this look, he said, ‘No, Mrs. Wheatley, it’s not going to lead to that,’” she said.
“OK, if you say so, but I think as a mother, there’s something drastically wrong here.”
After the officer left, Fulton laid on her bed and closed her eyes, but didn’t fall asleep.
“And that’s when I got that picture in my mind of Desi on her stomach. And her head was turned to the right. I mean, I saw that. It was like someone took a snapshot, and that jarred me up. What the heck?
“So, then I got in my car and started driving around the neighborhood and making a big circle all the way around different streets and all. And of course, I never saw her, but I thought, no, I can’t just, I can’t lay here. I’ve got to see if I can find her, but I couldn’t.”
Other girls and young women disappear
What Fulton didn’t know – what El Paso didn’t know – was that other girls had gone missing from Northeast. After Desi’s disappearance, other girls and young women also vanished.
Marjorie Knox, 14, was reported missing on Valentine’s Day, 1987. Melissa Alaniz, 13, was last seen March 7. Desi didn’t come home on June 2. Three days later, 20-year-old Karen Baker was gone. Cheryl Lynn Vasquez Dismukes was never seen after June 28. Seventeen-year-old Angelica Frausto disappeared July 3. Dawn Marie Smith, 14, and Rosa Maria Casio, 24, vanished in August. Ivy Susana Williams, 23, dropped from sight sometime in 1987, but no one reported her missing.
Nine girls and young women disappeared in or near Northeast El Paso in 1987, believed to be victims of serial killer David Leonard Wood. Top row, from left: Marjorie Knox, Melissa Alaniz, Desiree Wheatley, Karen Baker and Cheryl Lynn Vasquez Dismukes. Bottom row from left: Angelica Frausto, Dawn Smith, Rosa Maria Casio and Ivy Susana Williams. (Photos courtesy El Paso Times)
By her own admission, Fulton became “a pain in the butt to the Police Department” in the weeks after Desi disappeared. She learned of Baker’s disappearance and teamed up with her mother, Mary Baker, to raise public awareness of the disappearances.
“The police weren’t saying nothing. So, that’s when I started talking to the press,” Fulton said.
On Saturday, July 11, Fulton and Mary Baker gathered about 25 supporters at the Stanton Street international bridge in Downtown El Paso to say that they knew of at least four girls and young women who had disappeared from the Northeast. Local TV stations covered the protest on their Saturday newscasts, and the El Paso Times had a picture and three paragraphs in the B section of the next day’s Sunday paper. The El Paso Herald-Post ran a photo and 13 paragraphs Monday.
‘The police weren’t saying nothing. So, that’s when I started talking to the press.’ Marcia Fulton on EPPD’s slow response
The media attention in mid-summer never mentioned a phrase that was popularized a few years earlier – serial killer. The phrase was used to describe incidents where several people died in similar circumstances over a period of time. At the July protest, Mary Baker said she believed her daughter had been taken in the trunk of a car to Mexico.
Fulton doesn’t blame police investigators for not thinking of a serial killing at first.
“I wasn’t that upset with them because we never had a serial killing in El Paso, and I think we’ve never had another one. We’ve had mass shootings, but that’s not serial killing,” she said.
As the summer wore on, there was no sign of Desi or the other missing girls.
That changed on Sept. 4, 1987.
Bodies found in Northeast El Paso desert
El Paso Water Utilities employees working in the Northeast El Paso desert that Friday found what looked like human remains and called police. Investigators soon found a second set of human remains about 50 yards away. They said the bodies had been buried about two feet deep.
Fulton got a call that day from Mary Baker, Karen’s mother.
“She said, ‘Has the police called you yet?’ And she was crying. I said, ‘No. Why?’ She says, ‘Well, they found Karen’s body in the desert.’ And I said, ‘Well, they haven’t called me.’ And she goes, ‘Well, that’s a good thing.’ Well, that was just because they haven’t found her yet.”
Mary Baker told the media that day that police were 95% sure one of the bodies was Karen.
The Sept. 5, 1987, front page of the El Paso Times announced that two bodies had been found in the Northeast El Paso desert the day before.
The next day, police said the bodies of Karen Baker and Maria Rocio Casio were recovered from the shallow graves. Although they didn’t yet use the phrase “serial killer,” police knew the deaths of the two young women were related and began searching for more graves.
“That would be a hell of a coincidence to find two females, around the same age, in shallow graves within close proximity and they (the deaths) not be related,” Lt. J.R. Grijalva, the police spokesman, told the El Paso Times.
Fulton was upset that police told Mary Baker of her daughter’s death over the phone.
“So, I went in there to the police station. I said, ‘Look, if you find Desi’s body, you don’t call me and tell me that. You come to my house or you have me come into your office. But you don’t say that over the phone. What’s wrong with you people?’”
On Tuesday, Oct. 20, Fulton got a call from El Paso Police Chief John Scagno.
“He says, ‘Mrs. Wheatley, can you come into the office? But, could you bring some hair from one of Desi’s hairbrushes and this and that? We want to start new testing on all this stuff.’ Sure. So I got everything together, and me and Sundee went up there. And I was sitting there and we were talking a little bit back and forth. And then he says, ‘I need to tell you something.’ He says, ‘We found another body.’ And I said, ‘Has it been out there long enough? He goes, ‘Yeah.’”
‘We found another body.’ Marcia Fulton about a call with EPPD Chief John ScagNo
Police found two bodies that day, near where the bodies of Baker and Casio had been found almost seven weeks earlier. They were Desi and Dawn Marie Smith.
Scagno asked Fulton if she would look at clothing police had recovered from one of the shallow graves.
“I said, ‘OK.’ He says, ‘It’s on the floor under a window just to make the smell go away.’ I understand. So, we went up the elevator, me and Sundee, and the officer.”
In the room, police had laid out a white T-shirt, pants, a bra, underwear and socks they had found with the remains. Fulton noticed the T-shirt had signatures. Desi had asked to wear a white T-shirt the last day of school to collect signatures from her classmates.
“But the one that was most telling to me was her socks, because she didn’t fold her socks down. She rolled them down. I don’t know why, it was just something she liked to do. And both the socks were rolled down, just like she would roll them. That’s what made me know for sure,” Fulton said.
“And then Sundee started to cry because the bra was hers. It was a hand-me-down to Desi.”
The next day, police for the first time said the deaths may be the work of a serial killer. On Oct. 23, 1987, they confirmed that Desi’s remains had been found.
The confirmation that Desiree Wheatley’s remains had been found was front-page news in the El Paso Times.
On Nov. 3, police found the body of Angelica Frausto, who was last seen in August but not reported missing until after the first two bodies were found in September. On March 14, 1988, investigators found Williams’ body. No one had reported her missing, so it’s not clear when she vanished.
The bodies were all in shallow graves about 30 to 40 yards from one of the dirt roadways in a desert area that is now home to Painted Dunes Golf Course. Five were in a 1.5 square mile area; the other was three-quarters of a mile away.
The discovery of bodies in the Northeast El Paso desert in 1987 spawned fear across El Paso. This story was published in the Bel Air High School student newspaper, The Argus.
No trace has ever been found of Knox, Alaniz or Dismukes, but investigators believed their disappearances may have been linked to the six deaths.
Desi was buried at Restlawn Cemetery on Nov. 2, and Fulton made her promise to Desi that she’d find who did this to her.
“When I promise somebody something, I make sure I can go through with it. I never promised her I’d find it tomorrow because I didn’t know, but I did promise her I was going to make sure I found out who did it.”
A suspect emerges
On Oct. 22, 1987, two days after finding Desi and and Casio, police arrested 30-year-old David Leonard Wood in connection with a sexual assault that had take place sometime July 26 and Aug. 7, and reported to police Sept. 22. The victim survived the attack.
Police did not immediately publicly label Wood as a suspect in the killings, but the fact that they alerted media to his sexual assault arrest spoke volumes.
Wood grew up in Northeast El Paso, doing manual labor and odd jobs after dropping out of Parkland High School at age 17 in 1974. In 1976, he was sentenced to five years in prison for indecency with a child. He was paroled in 1978.
In 1980, when he was 23, Wood was sentenced to 20 years in prison for raping a 19-year-old woman and 13-year-old girl over an eight-day span. He was paroled just over six years later, in January 1987, and returned to Northeast El Paso. Fourteen-year-old Marjorie Knox disappeared a month after his parole.
After Wood’s arrest on the sexual assault charges in October, officials sought to revoke his parole. At a December hearing, police revealed for the first time that Wood had been questioned in the disappearance of a woman, but they didn’t name the missing person. They soon began calling him a suspect in the Northeast slayings.
A front-page story in the El Paso Herald-Post in October 1987 reported on David Wood’s arrest on sexual assault and kidnapping charges.
In March 1988, Wood was convicted of the sexual assault charges and sentenced to 50 years in prison.
While Wood was locked up on the rape charges and conviction, prosecutors tried to figure out a strategy for prosecuting him in the murders, Fulton said.
Fulton said her late husband, Robert Fulton, was once a sheriff’s deputy in Kansas City and gave her valuable advice as police investigated Desi’s death.
“One day he says, ‘Look, hon, you got to get in their face because they’re not going to do anything until you get in their face and you make them look at you and take you seriously.’ And I said, ‘But that’s not me. I’ll tell them what I’m thinking, but I don’t want to get aggressive.’ I said, ‘I don’t think that works.’ He says, ‘Trust me, it works.’”
So she kept up pressure on police and prosecutors. She said District Attorney Steve Simmons wanted to charge Wood only with Desi’s death, because they had the best evidence in that case.
“It wouldn’t involve the other girls that died. They had a right to have justice. So, I said no,” Fulton said.
On July 13, 1990, more than three years after Desi’s disappearance, Wood was indicted on a capital murder charge that accused him of killing two or more people. Simmons said he would seek the death penalty.
The trial was initially set for Jan. 14, 1991, but was delayed multiple times. Eventually, District Judge Peter Peca ordered the trial moved to Dallas because of concerns the extensive publicity about the killings in El Paso might make it difficult to seat an unbiased jury.
The trial began in September 1992. Fulton was in Dallas for the entire trial.
Conviction and death sentence
Evidence presented at trial said Desi and a friend had gone to a Circle K at the intersection Rushing Road and Salem Drive after leaving their friend’s house. Fulton said investigators determined they picked up sodas and snacks and left at 9:30 p.m., plenty of time for Desi to walk three blocks down Salem and make her 10 o’clock curfew. They were headed in opposite directions.
“Desi always has this tendency to turn around like she did with me and say ‘Goodbye,’ whatever,” Fulton said. “Her girlfriend turned around to say goodbye, and she saw this pickup truck stop next to Desi. She saw Desi get in. That was Wood’s pickup truck. And that was the last time any of us saw her.”
Because she was a witness who would testify in the trial, Fulton couldn’t go inside the courtroom each day. But she made her presence felt.
“Every day I got up and I’d go to the courthouse, sit on the bench in front of the courthouse where they were at, say hi to his attorneys as they walked by with him. They hated that.”
‘Every day I got up and I’d go to the courthouse, sit on the bench in front of the courthouse where they were at, say hi to his attorneys as they walked by with him. They hated that.’ Marcia Fulton on David Leonard Wood’s 1992 trial
On Oct. 26, 1992, Fulton got her chance to testify. She told the jury about Desi, about her last days. And she told them about her premonition the night she had vanished, her daughter on her stomach, head to the right.
In cross-examination, defense attorney Dolph Quijano Jr. suggested Fulton had embedded things police told her during the investigation into that vision from the early morning hours of June 3, 1987.
“You’ve talked to a lot of cops. You’ve been to a lot of court appearances … you know that Desiree was found face down,” Quijano told Fulton on the stand, the Associated Press reported.
“No, sir, I did not know that. I did not know that until now. I never asked. I was too afraid to ask,” Fulton responded.
She then broke into uncontrollable sobbing, and Judge Peca called a recess.
Almost four decades later, Fulton is still shaken by that image in her mind soon after Desi didn’t come home.
“That image was real. It was real. Yeah. And that freaked me out.”
On Nov. 10, 1992, Wood was convicted of capital murder by the Dallas jury that deliberated for seven hours over two days.
David Wood’s conviction was the lead story for the El Paso Herald-Post on Nov. 11, 1992.
“I am not a vindictive person, but I am after the death penalty solely for one reason: I cannot help Desiree and I cannot help the other five girls, but if he is put to death he will never kill anyone else’s child,” Fulton told reporters that day.
Four days later, the Dallas jury sentenced Wood to death.
Watching her daughter’s killer die
Perhaps the only thing that death penalty opponents and supporters agree on is that the time between sentence and execution is excruciatingly long. On average, a Texas inmate facing capital punishment spends 11.2 years on death row before execution.
The death sentence for David Wood was the top story in the Sunday, Nov. 15, 1992, edition of the El Paso Times.
But Fulton didn’t know that in 1992.
“I thought it would happen probably in the next year. I really did. Of course, I’m a little naive about this stuff because I’ve never been involved in a capital murder case.”
Wood arrived on death row in Huntsville on Jan. 14, 1993. He has maintained his innocence. He unsuccessfully sought to have his death sentence overturned because of a low IQ. He sought and was granted permission to perform DNA tests to show his innocence, but courts found nothing exculpatory in the tests and have consistently denied his requests for additional DNA testing.
If he is executed as scheduled on March 13, he will have spent 11,747 days on death row. That is the longest length of time a Texas inmate has spent on death row before execution. David Lee Powell had been on death row for 11,575 days before his execution in 2010 for the murder of a police officer in Austin.
Desiree Wheatley’s grave marker at Restlawn Memorial Park in Northeast El Paso. (Corrie Boudreaux/El Paso Matters)
Wood’s time on death row has been twice as long as Desi’s time on Earth – 5,753 days.
On March 13, 13,800 days will have passed since Desi said “I love you, Mom,” and turned to walk to school.
Fulton has picked out the T-shirt she’ll wear to the execution, which bears Desi’s name.
‘I don’t have hatred for him. I don’t have anything. I have no feelings for him.’ Marcia Fulton on her daughter’s convicted killer
A Christian woman, Fulton has thought about what it will be like to watch the state of Texas take a man’s life for killing Desi and five other girls and young women. She thinks back to when she watched as Robert Fulton, the love of her life, was consumed by cancer.
“That was hard. This won’t be hard. Because I don’t have any feelings for him (Wood). I don’t have hatred for him. I don’t have anything. I have no feelings for him.”
If she watches her daughter’s killer die, her thoughts will be on Desi.
“All I’m going to do is say, ‘We did it, baby. I kept my promise.’ That’s probably all I’m going to say.”
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