By Xavier Martinez
WENATCHEE, Wash. -- May was coming to an end, and Travis Decker was having a bad week.
A homeless, 32-year-old Army veteran, Travis had been in a fender-bender and worried he would be jailed or fall into debt. He feared central Washington's dry heat would force him to surrender his dog, Chinook, who usually waited inside Travis's truck while he found carpentry work. His relationship with his co-workers was souring.
He relayed these anxieties to his ex-wife, Whitney Decker, in texts and when they encountered each other at their daughter's dance class on Wednesday. He told Whitney she was "his rock."
On Friday afternoon, as he had done for months, Travis picked up his three daughters: Paityn, 9, Evelyn, 8, and Olivia, 5 years old.
But Travis -- a military guy who wooed Whitney a decade prior and, she maintains, never showed signs of violence, never brought them home.
Authorities discovered the girls' bodies near a remote campsite in the mountains. Travis, who police have named as the only suspect, remains at large. He was charged with kidnapping and aggravated murder, as well as unlawful flight to avoid prosecution.
The tragedy has stunned the Wenatchee Valley, a tightknit place of roughly 60,000, miles from the nearest interstate and known as "Apple Capital of the World." Search teams scour the rugged nearby wilderness. True-crime podcasts from coast to coast buzz with speculation. Friends and businesses, between organizing meals and attending vigils, exchange whispers: This isn't supposed to happen in Wenatchee.
But it also has brought tumult and finger pointing as a community tries to find answers -- and a place to put blame. Residents condemned the local paper's coverage of details of the girls' deaths, criticized authorities' decision not to issue an Amber Alert and are voicing concerns about looming cuts to services for veterans like Travis.
"This is a nightmare," said Wenatchee Mayor Mike Poirier. "It is beyond any nightmare."
A military family
Travis and Whitney met on a dating app in 2014, and married less than a year later. Travis had recently returned from an Army deployment to Afghanistan and was stationed at a base south of Seattle.
Their connection was "like rock and roll," said Arianna Cozart, Whitney's attorney, who has spoken on her behalf since the girls' death.
They had their first two children, Paityn and Evelyn, abroad, while Travis was stationed in Italy. Olivia was born in the U.S. while Travis was stationed in Georgia. The family in 2021 moved to Washington, where Travis transitioned from active duty to a full-time post with the National Guard. He briefly worked at a Lowe's hardware store.
The marriage was fraying by 2022. Travis had a history of moodiness, Whitney later told Cozart, but it always stayed verbal. He would wake Whitney in the middle of the night, shouting, sweating through the sheets.
He eventually asked her to file for divorce and he moved into an apartment near the Columbia River.
In court, the pair agreed the girls would spend every other weekend with Travis. A skilled outdoorsman, Travis enjoyed taking his daughters camping in the deep green forests west of town, or past the arid coulees to the east.
Meanwhile, the girls blossomed. They joined a dance team, performed Shakespeare and played soccer. They attended public school and traveled with their mother as far away as France.
Travis soon struggled to keep a job and stable housing. He and the girls took to staying at hotels or campsites during weekend visits.
Still, Travis stayed involved in their lives. He picked them up from practice and watched their performances. He voluntarily told Whitney what he planned to do with them each weekend.
Relations changed after Travis took the girls on an unannounced overnight camping trip to Montana and, in late 2023, left them unsupervised while spending the night at the local National Guard armory, where Olivia accidentally injured herself with heavy equipment. He also became more verbally aggressive toward Whitney, including showing up uninvited to argue over co-parenting issues.
Whitney sought Cozart's legal advice last year. In a September court hearing, Whitney said her ex-husband had been diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. She asked the judge to deny Travis overnight visitation rights, and the judge agreed, and also ordered Travis to undergo a domestic-violence assessment and mental-health treatment.
"We've never done anything that was unsafe," Travis said in the hearing. He represented himself.
May 30 was supposed to be another day with dad. Travis collected the girls at Whitney's house around 5 p.m. and promised to return them three hours later. Security cameras showed his truck driving out of town around 5:40; Whitney's calls went to voicemail.
"I don't personally think that he's dangerous," Whitney said in an interview with a Seattle television station the following Monday. Meanwhile, law enforcement descended on Wenatchee's hotels and the forests where Travis regularly took his daughters.
"I think that he's impulsive, and he loves his children very much," she said.
A town in shock
News of the missing children spread as social-media posts alerting the public went viral.
Business owners learned the girls' grandfather was the executive director of Wenatchee's Chamber of Commerce. Parents realized their children were in the same classroom, dance group or soccer team as a Decker girl.
Reporters from the Wenatchee World contacted sources within local law enforcement and prepared an article.
By Monday afternoon, June 2, authorities were spanning across a remote area more than 15 miles outside the nearest town. Sheriffs blocked off roads. They discovered the girls' bodies around 4 p.m. near Travis's white GMC truck, which contained car seats and a wallet.
In Wenatchee, some residents received information from spouses who were in the search team. Rumors swirled about the spotting of dog prints and Travis's truck. When police announced the girls' deaths Tuesday morning, many in town already knew.
Staff of the World scrambled. One editor accessed a publicly available court document filed by the police department that included a description of the manner of death. The article, like dozens more in subsequent days, included details of their asphyxiation.
The town was incensed. Managing editor Nancy Niles received emails from prominent locals, including the World's former owner. They alleged the newspaper had gone too far, or was sensationalizing its coverage in search of profit.
Niles said the articles weren't behind the outlet's paywall, and it was standard practice to include such information. It helped dispel the rumors, she said.
"It's our responsibility to report it," Niles added.
Later that day, though, Niles decided to generalize the language used to describe the manner of death. "We still have to report in this community, " she said.
'Could that have been me?'
As shock faded, some townspeople saw systemic failures. They bashed the State Patrol for never triggering an Amber Alert after Whitney reported the girls missing on Friday night; the agency issued a missing persons advisory Saturday afternoon and authorities say it isn't clear an earlier alert would've prevented the deaths. Locals criticized the courts for allowing Travis to be alone with his children, though it was Whitney who had advocated for, and won, narrowed visitation rights. Cozart says she has received letters blaming her for the deaths, too.
Some saw misdirected anger. "He killed them," said Poirier, the mayor. "Nobody else."
Whitney began advocating for veterans' mental-health services. Travis had attempted to access counseling after September's court orders but never did, Cozart said.
Central Washington Veterans Counseling, one of the region's few places where veterans can get care, is on the verge of losing its roughly $300,000-per-year federal government contract at the end of June. Heather Hill, the organization's owner and a therapist there, says that could leave more than 100 veterans with significantly reduced access to care.
Hill was at a softball practice for veterans when the town learned of the deaths.
"It was raw," she sighed, recalling a teary, confused group. "It's like, 'Could that have been me?' "
Searching for closure
Some in the Wenatchee Valley describe the Decker tragedy as the latest in a cycle of high-profile crimes that periodically disrupt life in the usually serene community. In 2010, a teenage beauty school student was murdered by a classmate. The "Pied Piper of Prozac," a local doctor who prescribed the drug at extreme rates, and allegations of a later-discredited child-abuse ring rocked the town in the 1990s.
Others say the Decker case is different: Three girls are dead and their father is still missing.
"It's a grind on the soul," said Edgar Reinfeld, Wenatchee's police chief. "It's a grind on your overall sense of well-being."
The U.S. Marshals are leading the search for Travis, aided by the Department of Homeland Security and other federal and local authorities. This week, officials said they were uncertain he remained alive or in the area.
Rosa Pulido, director of Wenatchee's downtown association, scrambled to streamline donations, which soon reached thousands of dollars. An online fundraiser quickly raised more than $1 million. Others dropped off energy drinks for the manhunt teams. Pulido's organization tied ribbons around the valley in memory of Paityn, Evelyn and Olivia.
Teachers hosted letter-writing sessions to honor them, and the Chelan County Sheriff's office hosted workshops on how to talk to children about the tragedy. Three weeks after the sisters disappeared, residents rode shuttle buses to a public memorial attended by more than 1,500. Girls wore matching warm-up jackets of Evelyn's dance team. The mayor, sheriff, chief of police and still-stunned onlookers listened as Whitney gave her first public statements since the tragedy.
As night fell, lights on Wenatchee's public-utility office and city hall beamed pink, purple and green -- one for each of the girls' favorite colors.
Write to Xavier Martinez at xavier.martinez@wsj.com
(END) Dow Jones Newswires
June 26, 2025 09:00 ET (13:00 GMT)
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