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Cop Out

Continued from page 7

Published on July 06, 2006

Courtney took photos of the scene, but he wasn't the first. Officer Robert Rich entered the house right after the shooting and began snapping away. The set he developed and those taken by Courtney are noticeably different. Pillows change positions on the living room couch where Davis' gun was recovered. Davis' bedroom shows a towel moved from the bedpost to the floor. A gun holster is present on his bed in Courtney's photos but not Rich's.

Mysteriously, Ann Shelton's SWAT locker nametag is seen on the Davis living room floor. Shelton wasn't employed at the police department at the time. Hill says the tag was probably put in his medical kit as another practical joke. Mark Haney believes Hill was carrying it around like a trophy. Regardless, the tag changed position in the two sets of photos, even flipping over.

It's hard to say whether any of these things mean Hill is lying. Neither Courtney nor Hueske ever saw the scene as it was directly after the shooting. Hill is the only man who could know what really happened on that morning.


The future is the main concern at the North Richland Hills Police Department today, according to new Chief Jimmy Perdue. On the job less than a year, he's reluctant to dwell on the Davis shooting. As far as changing any policies, procedures or general orders of the department, Perdue says there's no need.

"I have not made any changes to any policies related to SWAT or tactics or operations there," says Perdue, an affable, mustachioed guy with a buzz cut. He's reviewed the general orders, but nothing stood out to him. As far as he's concerned, he's leading a different department today.

Most everyone involved in the Davis shooting has resigned, retired or been fired. After receiving two DUIs related to prescribed pain medication he was taking, Shockley retired in January 2005. Wallace retired in May of that year and now builds houses full time in northeast Tarrant County.

Greg Crane, one of Hill's closest friends and a Davis raid supervisor, resigned in June 2002. In a deposition, he says he felt the department was "either run by very incompetent people or corrupt, or both." An embarrassed Stilley resigned a month later, testifying that the North Richland Hills Police Department "was frequently joked about."

Today, Linda Hill says she and Allen try to "stay ahead" of what's going on in any given situation by talking to the kids about what they can expect for the future. Just like they did after the Davis shooting, outlining what might happen with media interest and investigations and criticism to their kids, they've gone over the possibilities associated with Hill's tour in Iraq.

"We've gone through everything from day of deployment to all the different scenarios of how he could possibly come home," Linda says. "Up to and including making plans for his funeral."

The death threats are also something the Hills have had to accept. One note was written regarding their son, Colton: "You took her son, now we're going to take yours." Linda thinks her kids, now 15 and 17, have handled the ordeal well, though they've had to make lifestyle adjustments. No more riding bikes on the street outside. When Allen's sexual jokes came out in the paper, the Hill house stopped being the center for playmates.

At school, the kids have been targeted by teachers and coaches who hold the Davis shooting against the family, says Linda. When Colton was hazed at football practice, she says, nobody cared. Kaeli, an "A" student, received in-school suspension for supposedly mouthing off to a coach she didn't even have a class with. When Linda met with the principal, the coach apologized; he said Kaeli never said anything to him and that his story was fabricated. He gave no reason why. But Allen's reputation has been sullied by more than just the Davis shooting, and he's well-known among teachers in the district for being uncooperative and bullying. Linda has to handle all the kids' school issues, because Allen has been banned from the premises after getting into foul-mouthed altercations with teachers who didn't want him to render aid to injured students at his daughter's athletic events. In the Fort Worth Weekly, he's quoted as calling one teacher a "big fat fucking cow."

He shows far more bitterness about the school incidents than the Davis raid. Now that he's headed to Iraq, he wants to be able to see his kids at school before he gets shipped out. So far, no progress has been made in his appeals. There is much that remains unresolved for the Hill family.

It could be weeks before U.S. District Judge Terry R. Means makes a final decision in the Davis civil suit, which is currently on appeal, though Shockley and Wallace have already been granted immunity. But the case against Hill remains, and there's a remote possibility it may go to trial. The Hills want an opportunity to clear Allen's name before a jury. Mark Haney wants the opportunity to show the facts to what he believes will be an outraged panel.

In North Richland Hills the 65,000 people served by the 109-member police department have no choice but to rely on their officers to serve and protect, and most probably believe just what the Hills did before the the Davis raid: Cops are the good guys. But Allen and Linda Hill say they had to re-teach their kids--and themselves--to believe otherwise.

"We still expect them to know that the police are on your side for the most part," says Linda, sighing. "On the flip side, we've also taught them that they're human. And like humans, capable of lying. And like humans, they're capable of being cowards. And that's a fact. We've seen it."

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