Teen affair was catalyst for disaster

The relationship between Ray Ware and Tami Getz should have been a teenaged fling like many others -- something awkward and melodramatic between an 18-year-old boy and a 16-year-old girl that, years later, they would look back on and roll their eyes.

But their brief affair turned tragic in a hurry.

Within two months after they met, one of them was dead and the other's father was headed to prison.

Their story is puzzling -- and disputed. The two families tell wildly different versions of the events that led to Ware's 1997 murder.

Tami claims she was date-raped and impregnated by Ware. Metro Police investigators say her father, Jack Getz, believed her and hunted down Ware and shot him in retaliation.

But Ware's parents say Tami Getz was obsessed with Ray, and that she lied about being raped and pregnant -- and that their son was an innocent victim.

And Jack Getz, 53, says he shot Ware in self-defense, after being attacked by the teenager in a dark parking lot late Christmas night 1997.

In February a jury found Jack Getz guilty of first-degree murder. He is scheduled to be sentenced April 11.

But wherever the truth lies, this is a story about a needless tragedy -- a story about two families destroyed by vengeance and sorrow, by the indiscretions of youth, the devotion of love, and the consequences of anger.

A Texas boy

On the coffee table in Ware's family's Henderson home are stacks of photos of Ray. He was 5-feet, 10-inches tall, had short brown hair and his cheeks, though stubbled with whiskers, still had the plump of youth.

Ray was raised in Van, Texas -- a small town his sister, Pamela Ware, 22, says has "four churches but only one restaurant."

"He had goals. He wanted to be an attorney," Bonnie Mataczynzski, his mother, said. In high school, Ray had been selected as a teen delegate to the Texas Legislature, where he spent a day as a page on the legislative floor. He graduated high school in June of 1997 and moved to Las Vegas, where his mother, step-dad and sister had relocated to the suburbs months earlier. He registered for the fall semester at UNLV.

His family paints a picture of him as a "hard-working kid" and a "typical 18-year-old boy," busy with the business of leaving the nest and indulging in his newfound freedom. Mataczynzski said Ray had plans to eventually move back to Texas and marry his high school sweetheart; the two had purchased rings.

"But he was an 18-year-old boy. Of course he dated other girls," David Mataczynzski, his step-dad, said.

"A lot of girls liked him," Pamela Ware said. "But he wasn't a playboy. He didn't use them."

Ray took a job at Auto Nation and worked full-time while attending school. In November 1997, he moved into an apartment near UNLV with a friend he met at work.

His search for adulthood included taking some risks -- his family said he had experimented with marijuana and methamphetamines, but that he was not a regular drug user.

"Las Vegas was a whole new world for him. He wasn't aware of what could happen in a big city," Pamela Ware said. Ray and Tami met through mutual friends. Tami, a petite blond girl who was being home-schooled by her family, worked at Gold's Gym. Deputy District Attorney David Wall said Tami and Ray had a one-night stand in Ray's apartment on Nov. 30, 1997 -- consensual sex, using condoms provided by friends at the apartment gathering -- and that Tami then became obsessed with Ray, who "wanted nothing to do with her."

Tami tells a different story.

She said the two became friends and at Ray's apartment she was given a soda spiked with an incapacitating drug. While she was incoherent, Ray had sex with her, she said.

Tami said she was a virgin before the incident, and later took a pregnancy test and determined she was pregnant.

From here, the two families' stories diverge more: Ray's family said Tami continued to call him at his mother's house (because there was no phone in his apartment) and that Ray avoided her calls.

By contrast, Tami said Ray beat her up, raped her again, and threatened to harm her family if she told anyone about it.

"That's just not Ray at all," Pamela Ware said. "He was not the kind of guy to get into fights. He was the kind of guy you want to be around -- he was a good person and he believed other people were good ...

"Isn't it enough that Ray died -- do they have to slander him, too?"

Tami said she told her dad in mid-December that she was pregnant and that he was supportive -- "He said he would help me whether I wanted to keep it or not." But, she said, she later had a miscarriage.

Christmas 1997

Just south of Russell Road on Spencer Street is a long parking lot that stretches toward the east end of McCarran International Airport runways. It is in front of a row of air-cargo warehouses, adjacent to a dirt lot. At night it is a desolate place.

This is where Ray Ware died on Christmas night 1997.

Early in the morning of Dec. 26, Jack Getz flagged down police on Fremont Street and led them to this site, saying there had been an accident -- a struggle -- a death.

The 18-year-old's body was hours cold.

Ray's 1996 green Pontiac Sunfire -- a gift from his parents for getting good grades -- was loaded with Christmas presents and parked a few feet away.

Ray had spent Christmas morning with his family. Having decided to return to Texas for the spring, he gave his sister an emotional goodbye letter for Christmas. In the letter, she said, he pledged his devotion to his family and told her to remember that "things happen for a reason."

Ray returned to his apartment that evening and called his mother around 9:30 p.m. from a pay phone, Bonnie Mataczynzski said.

Jack Getz, who was accustomed to working a casino graveyard shift and was often up nights, left his house in his red Mitsubishi Eclipse for a drive late Christmas night, according to his wife.

Exactly how the two men ended up in that parking lot is unclear, police say. Jack Getz's family believes Ware flagged down the Mitsubishi because he believed Tami was driving it. When he instead found Jack Getz in the car, the Getzes say, Ware lost his temper and pulled out a gun, instigating a struggle. According to their story, Jack Getz shot Ware in self-defense.

But Ware's family says Jack Getz -- and possibly some unidentified accomplices -- somehow took Ray to the parking lot against his will and shot him execution style. Police say Jack Getz shot Ware four times with a handgun -- the fatal shot in the top of his head.

According to investigators, Jack Getz then left the scene, changed clothing, drove across Hoover Dam and hid his blood-splattered clothes in the Arizona desert.

He then came back to Las Vegas and took police to the parking lot where Ware lay dead.

Investigators never found the gun.

Autopsy toxicology reports revealed a "negligible" amount of methamphetamine in Ware's blood and marijuana in his urine.

Metro Police said their investigation leads them to believe Jack Getz intended to kill Ware because he thought Ware had gotten his daughter pregnant.

"That's the most common-sense rationale behind the whole thing," said Homicide Sgt. Keith Hefner.

"But I don't know if we'll ever know exactly what happened that night."

The coroner knocked on Bonnie Mataczynzski's door on Dec. 26.

"I couldn't believe it. I still can't believe it. You can never expect something like this," she said. Since then, Bonnie Mataczynzski -- a soft-spoken, petite woman -- has been in a downward spiral. She was prescribed several types of anti-depressants and sedatives, which she admits taking abusively, spending all of 1998 in a blur. She lost her job and has not returned to work. She attempted suicide. She quit eating and became dangerously thin.

One day Pamela Ware came home to find her mother curled up on the bed with Ray's childhood toys. "I lost it," Bonnie Mataczynzski says. "I just kept falling further down. I'll never be able to accept it. If he had died in a car accident, it would be terrible, but it would be an accident. This -- this is unacceptable. I'm not full of hate, I'm just so hurt. "I kind of feel like I failed Ray because I never told him about the horrible realities of the world."

Another family

Elizabeth Getz has a framed photo of her and her husband, Jack, from their wedding day in 1971. He is a tall, handsome groom; she is a young, pretty bride. Today, it's sitting on the end table in her small Las Vegas condominium.

"There is no way my husband would have done it," says Elizabeth Getz, who works in a management position at a Strip casino. She says that when she sees her husband in jail and tries to talk about Christmas night, "he just breaks down."

Since Jack Getz's arrest, Elizabeth Getz has struggled to make ends meet and to pay for lawyers other than public defenders. She also claims that some of Ray's friends have vandalized her car and made threatening phone calls to her family.

The Getzes are from Missouri and recently lived in San Diego, where Jack Sr. worked as a licensed private investigator. They came to Las Vegas in 1997 so Jack Jr. could pursue his dream of becoming a musician. The 23-year-old works as a mechanic by day and plays guitar and sings in a Las Vegas band by night. Jack Sr. quit the private investigation business and went to work nights at the Gold Strike hotel-casino in Jean.

Family members say that Jack Sr. has been suffering for about 10 years from a neurological problem that causes him to have seizures.

For years, according to the Getz family, Jack Sr. has taken medication for the seizures. Public defender Doug Hedger attributed Jack Sr.'s erratic behavior after the shooting -- such as driving to Arizona before bringing police to the site where Ray lay dead -- to the effects of the medication.

Tami Getz, now 18, is a thin, mild-mannered girl. Her blond bangs are neatly curled and she wears pink butterfly hair clips.

Two months after Ray Ware was killed, she filed sexual assault charges against him. Metro Police said they could not substantiate her allegations.

But Tami said she has undergone rape crisis counseling and continues to attend therapy with counselor Sandi Barbero.

In a letter to authorities regarding Tami's mental condition, Barbero wrote that Tami is a "sheltered child from a close and healthy family." Tami said she has many ongoing health problems -- from liver damage to neurological problems -- which she says are a result of being beaten by Ray.

On the Getz family's kitchen table are stacks of documents from the case -- copies of Ray's toxicology reports, Tami's medical records, and court papers. The Getz family says that all of the evidence has not been considered by investigators -- evidence that would support Jack Getz's case. They also say they were misrepresented in court, and have asked for a new trial.

"We want people to know the truth," says Tami. "I don't want people to think my father is this horrible killer person." On the day the verdict was expected in February, defense attorney Hedger told the family that he thought Jack Getz Sr. would be a free man by that evening. The family made reservations at a restaurant for a celebratory dinner.

"We expected to win," Elizabeth Getz said.

The jury convicted him in less than two hours.

"My father is innocent. It will be proven someday," said Jack Jr. "Right now I'm just thankful that he is still alive. Even though he is behind a glass door, I can still talk to him."

Memorial

In the parking lot where the shooting occurred, someone has spray painted, "For my friend Ray. R.I.P. 12-25-97."

A half-moon of candle wax is melted onto the pavement, along with a handful of rocks arranged to say, "Ray."

For the last two years, Ray's family has visited the parking lot on Christmas.

"Jack Getz destroyed Christmas for this family," David Mataczynzski said. "Just the horror of being shot to death on Christmas, one of the holiest days of the year. It's horrendous."

On April 11. District Judge Jeffrey Sobel will either grant Jack Getz Sr. a new trial or sentence him for first-degree murder with a deadly weapon. The minimum sentence would be 40 years without parole.

Members of Ware's family are preparing statements to read in court at the sentencing.

Although the conviction offered a modicum of closure to Ray Ware's family, they do not feel any sense of victory.

"We didn't win," says Pamela Ware. "We lost Ray."

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