The Black Widow Killer

Two men. Two murders. Too many questions.

By Alanna Nash from Reader's Digest | November 2005

By most accounts, Lynn was genuinely crazy about Randy, and he was equally smitten. In the summer of 1995, using some $150,000 from Glenn’s insurance benefits, Lynn bought a house for her and Randy. In January 1996 she gave birth to their daughter, Amber. A son, Blake, was born later. Lynn was a good mother, says Randy’s family. Still, she refused to marry Randy.

“He gave her an engagement ring, but she never wore it,” recalls Kimberly. “The reason she gave us was that her fingers were swollen and she couldn’t fit it on her hand. I’m sure it hurt him a lot.”

Some suggested that Lynn resisted because if she married she might no longer be eligible for Glenn’s pension. Meanwhile, by early 1997, Lynn had convinced Randy to name her the beneficiary on his life insurance policy. The following year, at Lynn’s suggestion, he increased the policy amount from $100,000 to $200,000.

By then, their relationship had begun to sour. In 1997, Lynn claimed Randy hit her in the mouth with his fist and charged him with battery — for which he was fined $400 and sentenced to 10 months of probation. Randy, who had gone through a period of heavy drinking following the end of his first marriage, buckled emotionally. “She knew how to push his buttons, and did on a regular basis,” says Kimberly. On two occasions, he took an overdose of pills, hoping if not to die, to get Lynn’s attention. In 1999, he moved out of the house, leaving his girlfriend, as he said, “for his sanity.”

Still, he held out hope for a reconciliation for the sake of the children, then ages 5 and 2. On January 19, 2001, Lynn and Randy got together to talk about working things out. Three days later, Randy died alone on the couch in his apartment. He was 32.

Randy, like Glenn, suffered severe flu-like symptoms, and was able to keep down little but fluids and Jell-O in the days before his death. He sought help at an emergency room, only to become increasingly ill. After returning from the hospital, he was vomiting and gasping for breath. At the worst of it, he called fellow firefighter Paul Adams, who arrived to find his friend amid overturned furniture, disoriented and panicky, asking, “Do you think I’m going to die?”

The next morning, another firefighter, Barry Head, discovered Randy dead, with a blanket pulled around him, exactly the way Glenn Turner had been found. An autopsy cited an irregular heartbeat as the cause.

The day of his burial, Lynn was on the phone to Randy’s insurance company. She was shocked to learn that his $200,000 policy had been canceled months before for nonpayment of premiums. But Lynn was not the only one dialing the phone.

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