In a matter-of-fact tone, Juan David Ortiz, a U.S. Border Patrol supervisor, confessed to a chilling twelve-day murder spree that took the lives of four sex workers in Laredo, Texas. Each victim had a tragic history marred by sexual abuse and drug addiction, making them especially vulnerable to the predators prowling the streets of this border town.
During his confession to a Texas Ranger and a Webb County Sheriff’s Captain, Ortiz revealed a disturbing narrative. He described how “the monster came out” as he cruised along San Bernardo Avenue, a stretch infamously known as “the prostitute’s blocks.” According to Ortiz, these “monsters” within him compelled him to “clean up” the streets by targeting women he referred to as “trash.” His detached recounting of the murders sent shockwaves through a community that had once trusted him as a protector.
The Manhunt and Arrest
The spree began on September 3, 2018, when Ortiz picked up 29-year-old Melissa Ramirez. He drove her to a remote location outside Laredo, where he shot her as she stepped out of his truck. Nine days later, the body of Claudine Ann Luera, 42, was discovered by a truck driver. Luera, still alive when found, succumbed to a bullet wound to the back of her head shortly after reaching the hospital.
With mounting fears and an escalating body count, authorities were under immense pressure to find the killer. The turning point came when Erika Pena, another sex worker and one of Ortiz’s regular clients, narrowly escaped a violent encounter with him. Pena led officers to Ortiz’s home, triggering a manhunt. A BOLO “Be On the Lookout” alert was issued, and Ortiz was eventually apprehended by a SWAT team, unarmed, hiding in a motel parking garage.
The Duality of Juan David Ortiz
Ortiz’s arrest was a seismic event in Laredo. A respected nine-year veteran of the Border Patrol, Ortiz was an intelligence supervisor at the South Texas Border Intelligence Center. He was a former Navy Corpsman who had served in Iraq and held a Master’s degree in International Relations. By all outward appearances, he was a devoted husband and father, a community member who attended church and upheld the law. Yet, beneath this facade, Ortiz was leading a double life—one of a serial killer.
The case of Juan David Ortiz raises profound questions about the nature of evil and the hidden darkness that can reside in seemingly ordinary individuals. For Lyzza Janette, an unlikely chronicler of his story, these questions became an obsession.
An Unlikely Observer
Lyzza Janette is not a journalist or a professional writer. Her credentials—a PhD in Business Administration, a Master’s in Public Administration, and a Bachelor’s in Political Science—suggest a career far removed from the world of true crime. Yet, something about Ortiz’s case captivated her. “It intrigued me because he was 35, and I’m a year older than him,” Janette explained. “I thought, why would someone my age, who had a good job and a family, do this?”
Driven by curiosity and a desire to understand the mind of a killer, Janette attended Ortiz’s trial. In the courtroom, she quickly caught Ortiz’s eye. Television footage showed him frequently glancing over his shoulder at her, occasionally exchanging smiles. For Janette, this interaction was more than a casual acknowledgment—it was a gateway into the psyche of a man who had brutally murdered four women.
Face-to-Face with a Serial Killer
After Ortiz was convicted of Capital Murder and sentenced to life in prison without parole, Janette decided to take her investigation further. She visited him in prison, hoping to gain insights into his motives. Reflecting on her decision, she admitted, “In hindsight, I was naive to think I could establish a meaningful connection with a serial killer.” Yet, her ambition drove her to try. She began a long-distance relationship with Ortiz over the phone, speaking to him regularly.
“I wanted to see him face-to-face to establish a better rapport, to understand his behavior better,” Janette said. “He seemed very ordinary, very normal, which is scary. You wouldn’t think he could do such things.”
Janette’s fascination with Ortiz bordered on dangerous territory. She was aware of the risk, yet her ambition to understand what made Ortiz tick overpowered her fear. “He’s two people,” she observed. “He’s half inmate, half Border Patrol agent. I’ve seen both sides. Of course, I haven’t seen his violent side in person, thank God. But on the phone, I’ve sensed his anger. He can flip out. He has serious anger issues.”
The Charm and the Fury
Ortiz’s charm was undeniable, reminiscent of another infamous serial killer. “He’s very charming, like Ted Bundy,” Janette noted. “He’s attractive, polite, and well-mannered. You’d never picture him as someone capable of such horrors.”
Ortiz’s own reactions to Janette’s portrayal of him were volatile. When she published her book, “Border Patrol Serial Killer: Conversations with Juan David Ortiz,” comparing him to Bundy, Ortiz was furious. “He started verbally abusing me,” she recalled. “He knows my weaknesses and uses them against me, like a Dr. Hannibal Lecter.”
Despite his charm, Ortiz revealed no remorse for his victims. “He regrets losing everything—his job, his freedom—but not the lives he took,” Janette said. “It’s always about him, his children, his life. He never once expressed sorrow for the victims or their families.”
Understanding Evil
Janette’s pursuit to understand Ortiz led her into a psychological labyrinth. “What I learned is that serial killers don’t look like monsters. They’re ordinary people you would never imagine committing such crimes,” she reflected. “You have to be careful with everyone. I don’t even go out or date anymore. I’m not scared, but I’m very cautious now.”
Her conversations with Ortiz revealed a man obsessed with his image. “He wants everyone to think he’s a good guy,” Janette said. “He kept repeating, ‘I’m a good guy, I’m a good guy.’ And I’m like, ‘Dude, you’re in jail because you killed people.’”
Janette’s experience with Ortiz underscores the complexities of human behavior and the thin veneer of normalcy that can mask the darkest impulses. Serial killers don’t resemble fictional monsters like the ones in the Halloween movie. “Serial killers don’t look like Michael Myers,” she said. They’re your average person. And that’s what’s terrifying.”
The Monster Within
For Ortiz, the “monster” was not a split personality but rather an intrinsic part of his being. Janette’s encounters with him reveal the troubling duality of a man who could commit heinous acts while appearing perfectly normal to those around him. “He’s like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” she mused. “One moment, he’s the likable guy; the next, there’s this evil presence.”
Despite his attempts to manipulate her, Janette remains resolute. “At first, I was scared,” she admitted. “I thought about taking my book down, but then I decided against it. I worked too hard for it.”
A Cautionary Tale
Janette’s journey is a stark reminder of the dangers lurking beneath the surface of seemingly ordinary lives. “Be very careful who you meet,” she warned. “Nowadays, people hide behind profiles, like the Craigslist killer. You have to be very careful who you trust.”
Her story, much like the saga of Juan David Ortiz, serves as a chilling reminder of the capacity for darkness in the human soul. As she continues to navigate the complexities of her relationship with Ortiz, Janette offers a final piece of advice: “Trust no one. Always be vigilant. Because evil often wears the face of normalcy.”
Conclusion
The case of Juan David Ortiz is a haunting example of the hidden darkness within individuals who outwardly appear to be upstanding citizens. It challenges us to question the nature of evil and the capacity for violence that resides in even the most ordinary-seeming people. Through the eyes of Lyzza Janette, we are given a glimpse into the mind of a serial killer, a glimpse that is both terrifying and enlightening.