COURTS

At retrial, Lake County jury chooses life sentence for man who killed deputy in 2005

Frank Stanfield
For the Daily Commercial

TAVARES — Jurors on Wednesday voted to reject the death penalty imposed on Jason Wheeler, who shot and killed sheriff’s Deputy Wayne Koester in 2005 and injured two others in an ambush.

He had been sentenced to death in his original trial, but the jury vote was 10-2. A U.S. Supreme Court ruling in 2016 now demands recommendations must be unanimous.

He will now serve the rest of his life in prison without parole. He was shot and paralyzed while being captured, so he must use a wheelchair.

Earlier coverage:Jason Wheeler's mom testifies during his retrial in death of deputy

Retrial continues:Lake County jury hears deputy's dramatic testimony in 2005 murder case

Incredible crash:Teen going 100 mph in Leesburg crashed Jaguar into SUV, Northgate Animal Clinic

Koester’s widow, Ashley, wept when the verdict was read, and declined to make a statement to the Daily Commercial.

Two kinds of scars

Jurors heard about two kinds of scars Friday: the physical and the mental. The resentencing hearing was hard to bear for family and undoubtedly on the two deputies who survived: Lt. Tom McKane and retired Deputy Bill Crotty.

Koester was shot five times by the killer’s shotgun, “90- some-odd pellets,” many of the smaller birdshot variety, that at the very least felt like “wasp stings.”

The exception was a very painful lung injury caused by larger buckshot pellets, a medical examiner testified. Two other Lake County sheriff’s deputies were wounded.

Meanwhile, the mental trauma continues for Koester’s family.

Jason Wheeler in court.

“Parenting two kids who lost their father tragically was not easy,” said Virginia Bevirt, Koester’s first wife, in her prepared victim impact statement.

“Always overcompensating to fill that loss, that void. Not wanting to let them down. Yeah, I gave in a lot. It was never enough. Nothing could fill their father’s loss, not even me. I had to watch my children being known as Wayne Koester’s kids, never just Amber and Ryan.

"There was always that dark cloud hanging over their heads, preventing them from [reaching] their full potential. They just couldn’t have a normal kid’s life with both parents …. They have been reminded of their father’s death every day for the last 17 years with no peace and no closure. I fear they will never be able to heal from their father’s loss.”

Koester’s sister, Paula Cassella, helped raise him when she was 13 when their mother died, so they were especially close.

“Wayne did not get to see any of them graduate from high school or college, or even see our oldest daughter, the one that was so close to him, become a nurse practitioner,” she said.

The children describe their loss

His daughter, Amber Koester, said her dad had a “huge heart.”

“He was a husband, father, son, brother, officer, and National Guardsman. He dedicated his life to being there for anyone who may have needed him. He spent his days coaching boys’ football, helping me with my cheers, practicing my flute, trying to prank us kids, or enjoying his football games. He meant a lot to the whole community. I’ve come to think that in his last moments, he died trying to fight and live for all of us. The world didn’t deserve losing such a kind soul,” she said.

Slain Lake County Deputy Wayne Koester, left, is shown in an undated family photo with his son, Ryan. (AP Photo, Ocala Star-Banner/Bruce Ackerman).

Ryan Koester was 11 when he lost his dad. He emulated his father’s military service by joining the Army. “I hoped he would be proud of me. I’ll never know,” he said.

Ashley Koester, could not stand the strain of reading her statement, so she had a sheriff’s deputy read it. She wrote that she was, “…not really understanding why the hand I placed his wedding ring on was so cold, or why there was a towel covering his face, or hearing the sound of my own my screams when they told me he was gone.

“I have to live like this, accept this horror over and over again, knowing he would not be coming home. I wake up at night hoping that it was nothing but a horrible dream, but reality always sinks in and punches me in the gut. We lost Wayne forever.”

The defense approach

Defense attorneys in general abhor victim impact statements. Jurors are instructed not to consider them as evidence when weighting aggravating versus mitigating evidence, and yet they are allowed to hear the emotional testimony.  

Wheeler’s attorneys fought to reduce the number of photographs that accompanied the statements. The original trial included 54 showing Koester in various settings, including with family, or the former Umatilla police officer as a child.

The Florida Supreme Court noted the defense objections but ruled there was no specific number that pushed the case over the top.

Jason Wheeler watches court proceedings from wheelchair at defense table.

Circuit Judge James Baxley eventually reduced the total number of photos, but Koester was still depicted in various stages of his life.

Dr. Steven Cogswell performed the autopsy on Koester following the Feb. 9 attack in the Paisley area.

At one point, he used a mannequin to show jurors where each gunshot wound was and where each shot was fired. 

Deputies Bill Crotty and Tom McKane testified that Wheeler ran after Koester on a dirt driveway shooting him before turning his attention to the others and his wife, Sarah Heckerman, who called the sheriff’s office to report his domestic violence.

The fatal blast, at close range, hit above his left eye and went through the skull and into the brain cavity. “He was looking at the shotgun,” Cogswell said.

Wheeler, who appeared glum throughout the trial, continued looking grim as he shook hands with his attorneys.

“We’re very happy,” said Brunvand Wise. “We believe it’s the right verdict.”