Violence Part of Living for Lovers Held in 3 Shootings

In this Duarte neighborhood of dying lawns, dented cars and proudly worn gang tattoos, there is a perplexed resignation when people talk about Chief and Flaca, a pair of lovers with lives clouded by violence.

Martin Meza, 24, the man other gang members called Chief, could be as polite as a choirboy one instant, wildly violent another, neighbors said. Lisa Villela, who was nicknamed Flaca--Skinny--would alternate between being beaten by Meza and goading him into jealous rages.

“They’re perfect for each other,” one neighbor said. “Both ding-y.”

Meza and Villela are now in custody in connection with three West Covina shootings that investigators say seem as senseless as they were violent.

According to police, Meza went to a West Covina vocational school on Aug. 16, where Villela was enrolled, and shot and killed 36-year-old Carolyn Vasquez, a popular teacher. The next shooting victims were Robin Stanford , a counselor, and Ronald Lee, a 17-year-old student, both of whom were wounded.

Police said Meza then jumped into the passenger seat of a car driven by an unidentified woman and fled, leading investigators on a three-day hunt that ended in Mexicali, Mexico.

There, authorities found Meza and Villela walking on the street together “like newlyweds,” according to Mexican police.

Police are seeking to extradite Meza to face a murder charge. He is in custody in Mexicali, claiming to be a Mexican national. Police here are also are trying to understand why Meza allegedly opened fire at the front door of the North-West College of Medical & Dental Assistants in West Covina.

Villela was arraigned Friday in Citrus Municipal Court and pleaded not guilty to charges of being an accessory to murder. Villela, a quiet, doe-eyed 19-year-old, sat silently through the brief hearing as her bail was set at $100,000.

Mexican authorities refused to allow Meza to be interviewed by The Times.

What investigators have faced is a flurry of conflicting stories and unanswered questions that neither Meza nor Villela has resolved.

“There’s lots of holes in this,” said West Covina Police Lt. Clint Collins. “We’re not really sure what the motive is.”

Police believe Stanford, a counselor for just five months at North-West College, was the intended target of the attack.

Before Meza opened fire, according to witnesses, he asked who owned a pickup truck that was parked near the school. The truck belonged to Stanford.

After Meza’s arrest, Mexican authorities said Meza claimed that he shot Stanford because he believed the counselor, who had been advising Villela on her classes and family situation, had sexually assaulted Villela--a story police discount. The attack has baffled Stanford’s family. They and school officials said the connection between Villela and Stanford, a Modesto pastor’s son who had married just two months earlier, was nothing more than student and teacher, “He (Stanford) doesn’t understand why this guy would come in the door shooting at him or anyone else,” said Glenn Stanford, his father.

Stanford, who was in stable condition Monday at Queen of the Valley Hospital, had counseled Villela during the brief time she had been a student at the college. He urged her to stay in school, and he gave her information on how to seek help for the beatings police and neighbors said Meza would inflict on her.

Villela’s attorney, Debra A. Smith, said she believes the attack was triggered by Stanford’s advice.

“He (Meza) probably feels like he owns her. He’s had this girl since she was 12,” Smith said. “A counselor tells her to go to a battered women’s shelter and that’s what put him in a killing rage.”

Smith said she intends to show that her client was terrorized into helping Meza escape, and is a victim.

But police questioned whether Villela was as innocent as her attorney claims.

Collins said investigators originally thought Meza had kidnaped Villela and fled to Mexico. But witnesses began telling them that Villela seemed to be a participant in the escape.

She registered at motels in her name and made no attempt to flee when Meza was away, Collins said.

“She had plenty of opportunities to escape,” he said. “And there was nothing to prevent her from asking for help. She continued to assist him. No motel clerk has said she was scared or anything.”

The violence of the attack has come as no surprise to Meza’s neighbors around Duarte’s Maynard Drive, an area where Meza and Villela both grew up.

One of Villela’s friends described how, in a fit of anger, Meza once twisted Villela’s finger until it broke. A week before the shooting, police were called to Villela’s mother’s home, where the couple stayed; Meza was beating Villela again.

“He’s a crazy man,” said Al Gutierrez, who lives a few doors away from where Villela and Meza stayed. “The jealousy that man had for that woman, I couldn’t even talk to her.”

Two days before the shooting, attorney Smith said Meza took Villela out of the house, and beat her repeatedly, threatening to kill their two young children and the fetus that Villela is carrying.

“It’s really a sad, pathetic story. She’s so innocent,” Smith said. “She’s not an accomplice. She’s a terrified victim. She was literally afraid to move unless he said so.”

Some of Villela’s neighbors agree that she was a victim of Meza’s anger, but they also describe her as a “manipulator” who could torment Meza by inciting his jealousy.

“She wasn’t no angel,” said one person who refused to be identified. The neighbor said that Villela had once accused a neighborhood youth of attacking her, and Meza had then beaten up the youth.

Neighbors had virtually no idea what prompted the attack at the college, but there was a sense of relief for some that at least for the time being, Chief and Flaca are no longer roaming their streets.

“Without them, it’ll be quiet around here,” one neighbor said.