Questions, unease persist in deadly Boundary shooting
SANDPOINT — Nov. 9 marked the 411th day of Hollis Stewart’s waking nightmare.
Stewart’s son, Ricky, was found shot to death on Sept. 24, 2013, on a Boundary County farm where he and others worked as laborers.
Ricky Stewart, 25, was found on a couch in a cabin with a gunshot wound to the face. A Springfield Armory 1911-series semiautomatic pistol was in his lap with his left hand holding the muzzle-end of the slide and the gun’s exposed barrel.
Hollis Stewart’s quest for reliable answers in the shooting has been painfully slow and frustrating. It’s also raised serious doubts in his mind about the quality of the investigation.
Boundary County Coroner Mick Mellett immediately ruled the death a suicide, but was forced to retreat from that determination after an autopsy revealed that Ricky Stewart’s eyes were open when the fatal shot occurred. The whites of his eyes showed gunpowder tattooing, according the autopsy report.
Boundary County sheriff’s investigators ultimately concluded that Ricky Stewart shot himself accidentally while mishandling the gun in an intoxicated state. His blood alcohol content was measured at 0.21, which is nearly three times the legal limit to drive. Testing for marijuana use was inconclusive.
Investigators concluded that Ricky Stewart, who was right-handed, had the gun pointed toward his face with his left hand around the slide and frame, according Chief Deputy Rich Stevens’ report. Ricky Stewart’s right hand somehow came into contact with the trigger with enough force to fire the gun, the report said.
“The level of intoxication would have resulted in reduced motor skill function and poor judgment in the safe handling of a firearm,” Stevens wrote in the report.
While the investigation was pending, Hollis Stewart said deputies were resistant to his inquiries and hid from him. Stewart said they also scoffed condescendingly when he asked if polygraph examinations were in order and if there was fingerprint evidence to corroborate their theory about how his son died.
“I’m written off as a delusional, grieving father,” said Stewart, a Sandpoint High School junior varsity baseball coach.
Ricky Stewart’s hands were swabbed for gunshot residue, but sheriff’s officials initially declined to have them analyzed because of their certainty of how the shooting occurred. They suggested that Hollis Stewart could have the swabs analyzed at his own expense before finally agreeing to send them to an independent lab.
Stewart said investigators assured him that if there was fingerprint evidence, it would have been analyzed.
But when the gun that ended Ricky Stewart’s life was turned over to his father, he said it appeared there were at least two bloody fingerprints were plainly visible on the slide, but without forensic testing it was unclear if it was blood or some other substance.
Stewart then turned over the weapon to Idaho State Police for further analysis.
The gun has seemingly dropped into a black hole.
An ISP property receipt shows that the gun was turned over to Det. Terry Morgan on May 15 at the Exxon gas station in Sandpoint. In a recorded voicemail message from Morgan to Stewart on July 11, the investigator said the gun is in the hands of the ISP lab for fingerprint and blood analysis and a “ballpark timeline” on the results was 30 days.
During the following four months, Stewart said Morgan became unresponsive.
Unbeknownst to Stewart, Morgan recently retired and never bothered to let Morgan know or advise him who would inheriting the investigation. Teresa Baker, an ISP spokeswoman, said Morgan retired about two weeks ago.
Stewart said the official indifference to questions about his son’s death is now treading in the realm of the cruel and inhumane.
“It’s a crime. A guy loses his son and can’t get any straight answers,” said Stewart, who contends defendants in criminal matters are afforded more rights and due process than the survivors in a death investigation.
It’s still not clear what the status of the analysis is.
Rylene Nowlin, manager of the ISP forensic lab in Meridian, said she could only release information to the agency submitting evidence for testing.
State police Capt. Curtis Kastens said the investigation is ongoing.
“Even though Det. Morgan has retired, the investigation will be completed and Mr. Stewart will be advised of the results,” Kastens said.
Boundary County Chief Deputy Prosecutor Tevis Hull said his office is still awaiting the results of the forensic examination of the pistol.
“We haven’t received the information back from the lab yet so it’s still, as far as we’re concerned, under investigation. That’s all I can say,” Hull said.
Meanwhile, the results of the gunshot residue test only raised more questions for Stewart.
The gunshot residue examination tested for three elements — antimony, barium and lead. There were higher concentrations of antimony on the palms of his hands than the backs, according to the report from Intermountain Forensic Laboratories in Portland, Ore. But the concentrations of barium and lead were higher on the backs of his hands were significantly higher on the back of his hands than the palms.
Stewart is troubled that two-thirds of the gunshot residue was higher on the backs of his hands than the palms. Detectives noted in their report that an expended cartridge was stuck in the gun’s shell ejection port, leading investigators to believe that Ricky Stewart’s left hand was covering the opening and prevented the shell from being entirely ejected.
“If he was covering that ejection chamber with the palm of his hand — that’s what they suggested caused it to stovepipe — why is the gunshot residue lighter on the palm of the hand than the back of the hand?” Hollis Stewart said.
Between the investigative and autopsy reports, Raymond Grimsbo, a forensic scientist and criminalist at Intermountain Forensic Laboratories, was “unable to opine with any level of certainty that Mr. Stewart did not take his own life.”
Stewart said the stress is taking its toll on him physically and emotionally. He also finds no solace in sleep due to a recurring nightmare in which his bloodied son is calling for help from inside the cabin as he stands outside.
“I can’t get through the door to get help to him,” Hollis said of the dream.