Worth More Dead

bullets had been to his chest, abdomen, and groin, but he had a number of “defense wounds” in his forearms and hands indicating that he had tried to hold off the bullets as Teresa stood over him, continuing to fire. And lastly, the old man had suffered a few leg wounds. These were attributed to Danny Perez’s attempts to shoot Teresa’s legs, visible to him beneath the undercarriage of Randy Yoder’s truck. Danny Perez had been trying to stop her from shooting Rosen, but she was virtually standing over him and it had been hard for Perez to differentiate between her body and Rosen’s.
    It had been a desperate situation.
    Toxicology reports on Rosen’s blood and urine showed no signs of alcohol or drug metabolites.
     
    On Tuesday, October 7, 2003, funeral services for Justyn Rosen were held at Temple Emanuel. Three hundred mourners gathered to remember him for his philanthropy. His daughters and grandchildren and lifelong friends spoke of the benevolent side of the well-known Denver businessman, the husband of sixty years, the loving father.
    Rosen had lived a long life; one couldn’t say he was cut down in the salad days of youth. But in the end Teresa ended it, and she also embarrassed him and his family, just as she meant to do. And she did more than that; she left them with deep grief, shock, and the knowledge that all the good Rosen had done in his life was blemished and sullied.
    There were no public services for Teresa. Her life was much shortened, and she died at the height of her beauty, leaving her children to mourn and wonder why it had to be that way. They knew about her relationship with J.R., although many who thought they knew Teresa well were stunned to hear about the six to seven years they were together. When she needed to, she was quite capable of keeping secrets.
    “She wasn’t evil,” Bob Costello, her first husband, said. “She was sick. I’m not condoning what she did. I am horrified by it…her daughter is horrified…but [she was] made into a monster. She’s not a monster.”
    Teresa’s sister, her foster mother, her ex-husbands—even their current wives—agreed that she truly loved Justyn Rosen. She had talked of him with such affection. “It wasn’t about the money; she wanted the man.”
    On Thursday, Teresa’s children, 20 and 14, visited the apartment on Louisiana Street. It was neat and clean as it always was, decorated with simplicity and taste. They looked at the many pictures around the rooms, most of them of their mother, posing with them at different stages in their lives. She had liked glass-topped tables and crystal that channeled rainbows when the sun hit them. She’d collected elephant statuettes.
     
    The suicide letter that Teresa mailed to Lori before her last desperate drive arrived on Monday, October 6.
    I’m so sorry, sorry, sorry. I’m out of options, confused but so hurt by Justyn Rosen. He lied so much about being with me. Can’t take the pain. I’m sorry, sorry.
    Please forgive me.
    I hope I can still go to heaven.
    Love always, Mom.
    Please stay real close to Brent. It would have been nice to have a brother like him and sister like you while I was growing up. Love to you again, Mom.
    I’m sick inside and feel like I’ve already died. This man killed me.
    Didn’t pay rent for Oct. It’s $800.00—make sure you got everything out for you and Brent.
    Love Love Mom
    Find nice people to share your life
    There were echos of Marilyn Monroe in Teresa Perez. All the physical beauty in the world and a terrible hunger for money and security coupled with a complete lack of self-esteem and a loneliness so profound that it could never be cured.
    Justyn Rosen didn’t kill Teresa. Something that happened a long, long time before probably accomplished that: A little girl watching her father walk away from the crowded foster home where he’d left her, so he could be with his new wife.
    Teresa Perez didn’t kill Justyn. His inability to understand the desperation behind her glamorous facade and his decision to make promises he could not keep did. He, too, walked away from her, preferring to be with his wife.
    And in the end, it was all ashes.

    On February 18, 2004, Bill Ritter, Denver’s district attorney of the Second Judicial District, announced the conclusion of his investigation of the October 3 shoot-out between Teresa and the Denver police officers. It had been a long and painful four months for Captain Joe Padilla and Officers Randy Yoder and