Valentine's Special: "A Couple of Kidnappers" - Wanda Barzee and Brian David Mitchell

Due to the graphic nature of these crimes, listener discretion is advised.

This episode includes discussions of animal abuse, child abuse, child sexual assault, insensitive language, and discussions of kidnapping.

Consider this when deciding how and when you'll listen.

They say that you only find love once you stop looking for it.

This was painfully true for the subject of today's episode, Wanda Barzi, who had a habit of looking in the wrong places to begin with.

I'm Vanessa Richardson, and welcome back to Criminal Couples.

Today's installment comes from female criminals.

When Wanda met David Brian Mitchell, she thought she'd finally found her white knight, but it was a match made in despair.

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Wanda Barzee grew up in a full household.

She was the middle child of three sisters.

Janice, Wanda, and baby Evelyn were close.

The girls stayed up most nights talking about their dreams of the future.

Wanda's goal never changed.

She wanted a man to love and protect her.

It was all she cared about.

While all three girls were well-liked, Wanda seemed, naturally, to garner extra attention.

She was the quietest, the primmest, and the most proper of the three Barzi sisters.

Plus, she was a devout Mormon, the most religious in her family.

But from an early age, perhaps five or so, Wanda's sisters noticed in her a disquieting intensity.

Her thoughts always raced to anxious worry, which made her a tough companion.

To quiet the noise in her head, her mother suggested she take up piano, but even that became pathological.

She practiced maniacally, night and day.

At times, her mother had to drag her away, kicking and screaming, so her sisters could practice too.

By 1952, seven-year-old Wanda's anxiety increased.

She grew even more bashful as she aged and clung to her mother's leg for far longer than any child should.

Even her little sister sensed that Wanda was, at heart, a follower.

While little Evelyn could be pretty self-sufficient, Wanda trailed her mother, forever angling for warmth and attention.

She just wasn't a fan of being left alone, perhaps because bad things happened to her when her mom and sisters weren't around.

Wanda was allegedly molested by her father, Marvin, when she was just a girl.

Notable psychiatrist Dr.

Noel C.

Gardner confirmed after reading Wanda's private diary that Barzie had emotional problems related to abuse in her childhood, so she had lots of emotional concerns.

Researchers have long tried to parse out the effects of childhood sexual abuse.

It's become clearer lately that such trauma may negatively disrupt brain development and function.

That kind of child abuse may also predict lifelong psychopathology.

Before we continue with Wanda's psychology, I'm not a licensed psychiatrist or psychologist, but I have done a lot of research for the show.

According to the article, Brain and Mind Integration, Childhood Sexual Abuse Survivors, The psychological trauma of childhood sexual abuse usually results in deleterious mental and health effects such as depression and anxiety disorders, post-traumatic stress disorder, dissociative disorders, and recall impairments.

In some cases, abused children dissociate by digging deep into an imaginary life with unseen friends.

The younger the child, the more intricate their imagined life may become.

In fact, the youngest children who dissociate may not only set up a handful of imaginary relationships, but they might also throw themselves into unprovoked tantrums that come seemingly from nowhere.

Wanda displayed what could be seen as dissociation with her vast collection of baby dolls.

To Wanda, her toy babies were as real to her as her sisters.

She cared for them as intensely as she practiced piano.

A diligent doll mom, she swaddled them up in blankets and stroked their little stuffed heads.

She clutched her babies so tight there was usually no prying them from her skinny arms.

Wanda rarely let the babies out of her sight.

She protected them fiercely from harm.

In fact, if her sisters tried so much as to touch her dolls, she'd scream at the top of her lungs, she's mine!

Her sisters and mother learned to steer clear of Wanda's doll collection.

They assumed she'd lighten up as she grew older, but even as she approached adolescence, Evelyn was troubled by her sister's intense behavior, but she chalked it up to Wanda being sensitive.

As a teen, Wanda showed no interest in boys.

Her classmates wondered why such a beautiful, smart girl never went on dates, but they all assumed Wanda was just painfully shy.

So it came as quite a surprise to her schoolmates and to Wanda herself when in 1963, days after graduating high school, she attracted a young boy from church.

Wanda sat on the pew beside her mother.

She focused on the preacher when she heard a soft pst.

She turned and an eccentric boy passed her a note.

It read, Hi.

She stared ahead, ignoring him, but he was persistent.

He handed over a few more notes before closing with, I'm Talmadge Thompson.

What's your name?

Dora answered for her daughter, mouthing, Wanda, to the new suitor.

The motherly endorsement was enough for Talmadge to send an alluring, Will Will you go out with me?

The off-center couple married in 1964.

In the beginning, Talmadge was a prince, always romancing 19-year-old Wanda and offering affection.

As newlyweds, they welcomed their first daughter, Rhonda.

By 1966, Wanda had three babies to care for.

Already an anxious person, she was quickly overwhelmed.

But Talmadge wanted to have a child every year.

By Wanda's fourth pregnancy, she'd fallen into a deep depression.

Still, Talmadge apparently insisted on expanding the family, whether Wanda liked it or not.

As the years passed and her responsibilities increased, Talmadge's behavior became juvenile.

He compulsively showed off with attention-seeking dances or by jumping off tables.

Though he projected a larger-than-life spirit in public, in private, he became a different man.

At home, Talmadge reportedly grew bullish, domineering.

Suddenly, he had no problem berating his wife.

When words weren't enough, he hit Wanda and the kids.

But Wanda hid her husband's alleged abuse from church friends by peddling images of the perfect family.

She gussied up her kids just as she did her childhood collection of baby dolls, suits for her boys, and and tailored dresses for the girls.

She was desperate for her neighbor's approval, but acquaintances felt interactions with Wanda were forced, insincere.

They commented that she seemed weirdly submissive.

Her sister always said she was a follower, and others agreed.

Nobody could get a sense of who the real Wanda was.

Adding to the stress at home, Talmadge couldn't hold down a job.

He surrendered to financial difficulty, which only made him angrier.

He spent money they didn't have and drove the family to duress.

Ashamed, he fled home regularly during the 1970s.

Wanda tried to keep the family afloat.

She paid what bills she could and struggled to provide basic care for her kids.

She took odd jobs doing hair or teaching piano, but clients hated coming to her chaotic house, so she had trouble holding on to work too.

When she lost a client, Talmadge refused her the same benefit of the doubt she gave him.

Instead, he beat Wanda and the children or whipped them with leather belts.

And while at least initially, Wanda didn't hit her kids, she did let the abuse happen.

And when her children came to her for comfort, she distracted herself to avoid vulnerability.

She met her kids' tears with apathy.

If they accused Wanda of not being there for them, she responded by grabbing a knife and threatening to kill herself.

She'd ask what they would do if she were gone, really gone forever.

Wanda's early threats were just precursors to future abuses.

Her kids would soon be forced to survive much, much worse.

In 1964, 19-year-old Wanda Barzee married childish ne'er-do-well Talmadge Thompson.

But once the honeymoon glow expired, Talmadge beat Wanda and her kids without remorse.

But Wanda never once made an attempt to halt the battering or defend her children.

In time, the years of abuse took their toll and Wanda became an abuser in her own right.

When her oldest kids reached eight or nine years old, she threatened them regularly.

She said that if they were dead, the family would be okay, maybe even better off.

Sometimes she locked the pantry for days on end.

Then she'd choose just the right moment to make a piping hot meal for herself.

She'd call the kids to the dining room and indulge in front of her starving children, moaning in delight.

As her kids got older, Wanda escalated to physical abuse.

She hit them or pulled their hair, but the psychological torments were the ones that left lasting marks.

As one of Wanda's daughters put it when interviewed by Oprah Winfrey, the physical wounds could always heal, but the scars of emotional abuse remained.

Perhaps even worse was Wanda's neglect.

The Thompson kids had no knowledge of right and wrong.

In school, they acted out.

Her boys even vandalized the neighborhood church.

But instead of meting out healthy discipline, she threatened suicide, hid from her children, or fell despondent.

By 1983, 38-year-old Wanda wanted out of her life.

It seems she came to the conclusion that since she hated her life so much, it was time to draft an exit plan and leave.

Wanda's youngest daughter, Luray, was about to turn eight.

Around her birthday, her mother insisted she get baptized.

Wanda stitched a new dress for Luray, styled her hair, and promised to let her ride in the front passenger seat to the ceremony.

In the weeks leading up to the baptism, Wanda seemed almost happy.

But when Luray's day finally arrived, Wanda was in a state.

All the kids could feel it.

Their mom was teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

Still, despite not wanting to go to church at all, the Thompson kids piled into her car.

On the family's arrival, Wanda dropped the kids off at the entrance.

She told them she'd be in after she found a parking spot.

She watched her six children walk into the building.

Behind her, a line of cars honked to encourage her to move on.

When Luray finally stepped up to the altar to be baptized, she looked at the congregation, but Wanda was nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, she knew her mom was gone, and she had a hunch Wanda wouldn't be returning home anytime soon.

Wanda drove to her mother's and begged to stay.

Dora eventually caved.

Every day she suggested Wanda contact her kids, but the days piled up.

Wanda never picked up the phone.

After months of hiding out, she finally found the guts to face her children and husband.

But it was too late.

Wanda's family had given up on her.

The kids pulled away, ultimately refusing to see her.

They knew they couldn't rely on her to be a real mom.

Talmadge ignored her, too.

In 1984, a year later, he filed for divorce.

The children stayed with him.

Ashamed and angry, Wanda retreated deep into herself.

Her dissociative behaviors flared up.

Wanda knew she'd never repair the damage she'd done to her kids, so she stopped reaching out.

She tried to make a fresh start instead.

To that end, Wanda saw a doctor who prescribed psychotropic drugs, but she hated the idea of chemically altering her mind and simply refused to take them.

To her, pills weren't the answer.

God

was.

Devout as ever, she sought help through a group therapy program within the Mormon church.

Even there, Wanda had trouble making friends.

Still, she worked on picking up the pieces of her broken life.

She secured a tiny apartment and volunteered as a church organist.

She took typing courses and found a temp job, too.

Though she was starting from scratch at 40 years old, Wanda was optimistic.

But her positive outlook may have been the result of something else, meeting a handsome new man at group therapy.

Brian David Mitchell was a thin man with gray eyes.

Eight years Wanda's junior, 32-year-old Mitchell was a recovering LSD and heroin addict.

Despite this, Wanda and Mitchell had quite a bit in common.

They were both the black sheep of their families and both trying to get over troubled marriages.

Like Wanda, Mitchell was timid in his demeanor and found it difficult to make friends.

They were both artistic.

Mitchell designed jewelry and Wanda played the organ and could sew, and they shared a commitment to the Mormon church.

But more than anything, Wanda and Mitchell connected because they were nursing shattered egos.

Add that to their broken confidences and how much they feared being alone, and you had a match made in despair.

Unlike her previous husband, Mitchell was a leader.

Despite this, he was soft-spoken.

He appeared steady, kind,

too wonderful to be true.

Perhaps if Wanda hadn't been so smitten, she'd have noticed his flaws.

To others, Mitchell was a hopeless addict, sexually twisted and narcissistic, but she was blind to any red flag.

The courtship was rocket quick, and in 1985, Mitchell proposed.

On November 29, 1985, the very same day Mitchell's divorce from his previous wife was made official, he and Wanda married.

But almost immediately, Wanda noticed a change in her groom's personality.

While he never hit her, Mitchell's timidity gave way to bouts of screaming.

Temper tantrums were now common.

Wanda kept these rages to herself.

She wanted others to think she'd found the perfect mate this time, but at home, she felt alone.

Again.

So in the fall of 1986, 41-year-old Wanda reached out to her children and asked them to live with her.

Only the three youngest, Derek, Mark, and Lou Ray, gave her the time of day.

They still lived with their father while the older kids were out on their own.

Life under Talmadge's roof was still hard for the children, even in Wanda's absence.

He hadn't found reliable work and his temper was formidable.

They thought it worthwhile to give their mom another shot.

So by the new year, the three kids moved in with Wanda and Mitchell.

Wanda was elated, determined to prove she could be a better mother now.

She even let Mark bring his dog and little Lou Ray bring her pet bunny, Peaches.

But when the kids settled into the newlyweds apartment, they noticed their mom was acting even weirder than before.

For starters, Wanda was even more withdrawn than they remembered.

She never looked them in the eye.

She ignored their attempts at conversation.

Within days of their return, she unearthed an old crutch, her dusty, discarded baby doll collection.

Once again, she began to care for them as if they were alive.

While we we can't be entirely certain what led Wanda back to this coping mechanism, she may have been afraid of a second rejection from her children.

If they went back to live with her father, she'd have to face her shortcomings as a mother a second time.

But her dolls would never leave her.

Dr.

Susan Morrow and Mary Lee Smith at the University of Utah Department of Educational Psychology conducted a study.

They found that being sexually abused can produce intense emotions of grief, pain, and rage.

Their research showed that to avoid threatening feelings, some victims nurtured themselves by playing with stuffed animals or dolls.

One participant in the study confessed to playing with paper dolls.

She said, they could never hurt me.

As if she'd never missed a day caring for the stuffed babies, Wanda picked up right where she left off.

She sewed new clothes for the dolls and swaddled them in cozy blankets.

Wanda spoke to the dolls and marked their responses.

She even carried them with her outside or buckled them into a car seat when she ran errands.

Her actual kids were keenly aware that something wasn't right with their mom.

But it wasn't like they could bring their concerns to their mom's new husband.

They noticed that something wasn't right with Mitchell either.

He practiced hypnotism.

He locked up the television at night.

He even shot Mark's pet dog with his hunting rifle.

When Mark asked why he would kill a sweet dog, Mitchell remarked the creature had gone mad.

Beyond Mitchell's obvious oddities, 12-year-old Lou Ray was frightened by something in him she couldn't describe.

His glances at her were invasive, as if he was staring past the surface of her body to make his way into her soul.

If she gave him a hug good night, he held her just a tad too long.

When she greeted him in the morning, he kissed her just a bit too eagerly.

But Luray never complained.

One night during the family's nightly prayer session, Luray was kneeling between Mitchell and her mother.

While Wanda was lost in prayer, Mitchell nudged his stepdaughter.

When she turned to see what he wanted, he pulled something from his pocket, a stash of explicit photos.

Slowly, he shuffled through them for Luré.

Luray turned from Mitchell to finish her prayers, excused herself, and ran to her bedroom.

She never told her mom about how uncomfortable Mitchell made her.

Soon she'd realize that it wouldn't have mattered anyway.

Her mom was too far gone.

One day soon after Luray's 14th birthday, she came home from school and the apartment smelled divine.

Her mother was in the best mood.

When Lu Ray asked, what's for dinner, Wanda smiled.

Mitchell answered, chicken.

Then Wanda told her daughter to wash up.

Supper would be ready soon.

Lu Ray was starving.

At the table, she dug in.

It had been so long since she'd had a home-cooked meal, she didn't come up for air.

Luray cleaned her plate.

Grateful, she thanked her mom and stepdad for the tasty dinner.

Wanda giggled.

Mitchell laughed too.

But when Lu Ray asked what was so funny, Wanda said nothing.

Mitchell said they'd had fun cooking for their baby.

The next morning, Lu Ray got ready for school.

Before breakfast, she went to the porch to feed her rabbit Peaches, but the cage was empty.

She ran into the kitchen to find Wanda at the stove.

What happened to Peaches?

She cried.

Robotically, Wanda replied, you ate her for dinner.

Luray was disgusted, mortified.

Days later, she ran away back to her father's house.

Apoplectic, Wanda didn't understand why her little girl left, but Mitchell assured her Luray was overreacting.

Everything would be okay.

She'd come back home for sure.

And if she didn't, he'd go out and find Wanda a brand new daughter to love.

In 1990, 45-year-old Wanda Barzee tried to reconnect with her youngest children, inviting them to live with her again.

But the kids noticed right away that her new husband, Brian David Mitchell, had a troubling effect on Wanda.

It all came to a head when Wanda fed her youngest child, 14-year-old Lu Ray, her pet rabbit for dinner.

She ran away and never came back.

Wanda decided if she couldn't have Lu Ray, she wanted nothing to do with the other two kids living with her.

So she asked her sons to get out too.

She told all of her kids they were dead to her.

Having severed her family ties, Wanda and Mitchell's lives completely unraveled.

By 1995, temp work dried up, bills went unpaid.

Wanda neglected to pay the rent on their tiny apartment in Salt Lake City.

They got kicked out, scrambled to find a new home, then got kicked out again.

Eviction became a pattern.

They barely scraped by.

Mitchell coped by throwing himself deep into his faith, which started to look less and less like Mormonism.

He turned his back on materialism, too.

Little by little, they inched away from the Mormon church, even though it had originally brought them together.

The couple could no longer endorse the church's greediness.

They insisted they were the only true disciples in a world of hypocritical sinners.

Mitchell even accused the church of ignoring the destitute.

The more he slammed the church, the more he realized his purpose.

He'd been called by God to be a prophet, to help the homeless find their faith.

Mitchell told Wanda he had access to the spirit world.

They held hours-long seances together.

He could hear the voices of forgotten prophets.

She hung on his every word.

When Wanda asked what messages the prophets had for Mitchell, he said they wanted him to sell their worldly possessions.

Based on what we know about Mitchell, it seems very likely that he truly believed he was communicating with heavenly prophets.

If this is the case, the voices he heard might have been hallucinations.

This would be consistent with his eventual diagnosis of a delusional disorder.

But Wanda had no idea her husband might be schizophrenic, so she felt compelled to do what the prophets said.

After all, she was the perpetual follower.

She let go of almost everything.

The only thing she insisted on keeping was was her favorite, dusty, old baby doll.

By 1993, they'd sold all their belongings and changed their names to David and Elida.

Mitchell chose his new name to honor the Old Testament's King David, who he believed was Jesus' ancestor, and Elida meant eternity of God, which to them seemed a right fit for Wanda.

In 1995, they shunned modern apartment living entirely.

Instead, they scraped up enough money to purchase a rusty trailer.

Wanda and Mitchell rattled across Utah, calling on family, but the visits were fraught with tension.

They'd accuse relatives of being too materialistic or hurl insulting epithets.

Needless to say, they quickly wore out their welcome.

So they set out in the trailer to criss-cross the country.

They headed to Ohio, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, and Alaska.

Wherever they went, Mitchell introduced himself as a preacher.

On street corners or in parks, he spun nonsensical, radical gobbledygook, mostly on deaf ears.

Sometimes they panhandled for loose change or food, but they never earned enough.

Eventually, the camper was repossessed.

By the end of 1995, 50-year-old Wanda and 42-year-old Mitchell were truly homeless.

They shacked up at shelters or camped along roadsides.

In 1997, the couple hitchhiked home to Salt Lake City.

They wandered downtown looking for shelter, but couldn't find anything.

So they called the only person they could think to take them in, someone they hadn't seen in three years, Wanda's mother.

Dora.

It didn't take long for Dora to realize that her brilliant daughter was long gone.

The Wanda she knew and loved had been replaced by a lost soul.

There was nothing in her eyes, no love, no want.

Her dissociative behaviors had taken over.

To Dora, there was only one part of her baby girl she recognized anymore, the follower.

Wanda had experienced multiple complex traumas throughout her life.

The sexual abuse by her father as a young girl, the physical abuse by her first husband, the emotional loss of her children, it all began to add up and eclipse, or reveal, the truest parts of her.

For Wanda, checking out seemed the only way to escape the emotions set off by her distressing past.

She was happy to be a follower to Mitchell.

She filled the role of disciple to a self-styled prophet.

According to a study by Italy's Del Ponte Hospital and the University of Insubria, although dissociative symptoms are a defense mechanism against stress associated with traumatic events, they also may arise as a way to diminish the emotional responses triggered by traumatic memories, even after a long period from the traumatic event.

Thus, thoughts are disconnected from emotions and some behaviors can become automatic.

Wanda disconnected her thoughts from her emotions almost entirely.

the result, an emptiness that caused her to disappear behind robotic behaviors.

Dora tried to warn her daughter that Mitchell had gone off the rails, but Wanda couldn't see it.

Instead, she worked to convince her mother that Mitchell was a man of God, with her best interests at heart.

But Dora didn't buy it.

She and Wanda spent the days doing chores and making clothes, but argued non-stop about Mitchell.

All the while, he was hatching a plan.

He told Dora that he and Wanda would only stay a few more days.

They had to isolate themselves so they could focus on building their new religion.

Mitchell confessed he'd begun writing a new faith's holy book.

He'd secured a teepee and wanted to take Wanda to live in the Wasatch Mountains, north of Salt Lake.

When Dora voiced her dissent about his plans, Mitchell flew into a fury.

Seething, he demanded Wanda grab the few things she owned.

Again, she did as she was told.

On their way out, Mitchell slammed the door so hard, it shook the house.

That was the last time Wanda saw a close family member for years.

Through 1998 and 1999, Wanda was entirely at the mercy of Mitchell, following wherever his fancy led them.

They lived on the streets of Salt Lake City or hid in the hills.

All the while, Mitchell recited his new doctrine to his wife.

Wanda took down his dictation in perfect calligraphy.

On Thanksgiving Day 2000, as they were finishing up their new religious text, Mitchell changed his name yet again, this time to Emmanuel.

and he demanded they rid themselves of their street clothes.

Wanda stitched simple robes and colors fit for royalty.

She wanted her man to feel confident in deep purples and pure white.

Newly clothed, Mitchell was optimistic.

He took to panhandling, preaching as he begged.

Wanda remained by his side, a dead-eyed, silent, subservient bride.

By December 2000, 55-year-old Wanda had become nothing more than Mitchell's prop for begging.

He'd point her out as commuters passed, shouting that this poor woman needed charity, that she'd lost all she had.

Wanda never put up a fight.

She'd given in to him fully.

In some way, though she had nothing, she still believed she had all she ever wanted.

A man to love and protect her, and she wanted to support him.

So when Mitchell told her he'd had a revelation, she asked him to share every detail.

Mitchell told his wife that God made him the prophet Emmanuel David Isaiah, and she was now to be called Hepzeba Elada Isaiah.

He said God told him he should accept seven new brides and that they would be Hepzebah's sister wives.

Wanda was to accept these girls as thy dearest and choicest friends from all eternity.

God was explicit that Emmanuel's brides should be very young to ensure their minds and spirits weren't yet fully formed.

Shaken by the news that God asked Mitchell to take on new wives, Wanda questioned him, but he reminded her of his promise to give her a new daughter when Luray left.

He asked her to think of his new brides as her babies.

Wanda agreed.

As they prepared to search for the brides, Wanda gripped her last baby doll tightly.

She never let it go.

Soon after, Wanda and Mitchell completed their radical doctrine.

Mitchell titled the 27-page book, The Book of Emmanuel David Isaiah.

Finally, the time was right to spread the word.

The pair washed up in a mountain stream.

They cut their hair, and Mitchell shaved.

Now somewhat presentable, presentable, they took their book to the streets.

The plan, as always, was to preach and beg, preach and beg.

It was a crisp November morning when well-to-do mother and wife Lois Smart took her daughters out for a shopping date.

In front of the mall, she was stopped by a slender, soft-spoken panhandler with big gray eyes.

The beggar was clean-cut and polite, but clearly malnourished.

Lois took pity on him and reached into her pocketbook.

The man asked her about her faith, and she said she was Mormon.

He said he was a preacher for Salt Lake's Homeless.

Impressed, Lois asked the panhandler his name.

He replied, Emmanuel.

She handed him $5 and set off down the street with her two young daughters, nine-year-old Mary Catherine and 14-year-old Elizabeth.

Mitchell tagged behind the smarts for a moment, carrying on the conversation with Lois, but locking his eyes on young Elizabeth.

He was fascinated by her.

Her innocence was apparent.

Suddenly, Mitchell knew this child was to be the first of his new wives.

She would be his gift to Wanda, the new daughter he'd promised over a decade ago.

Then, as if prompted by God, Lois made Mitchell an offer.

A job.

Her husband couldn't pay much, but they needed some help with a leaky roof.

If he was interested, the work would take about a week.

Mitchell eagerly accepted.

As the smart ladies said their goodbyes, Mitchell's thoughts raced to concoct a plan.

He watched them cross State Street and kept his gaze on Elizabeth as she faded from view.

When he was sure she was gone, he raced to his wife.

His voice trembled as he shared his divine news.

He found her.

He found Wanda's new baby.

The only thing left to do was bring her home.

It was a brisk October morning in 2001.

48-year-old Brian David Mitchell slowed his breathing as he approached the Smart family home.

The 6,600-square-foot monstrosity boasted affluence.

This house and its surrounding Federal Heights neighborhood represented everything he and Wanda loathed about materialistic Mormon families.

But the homeless preacher ignored his ire.

He had more important worries today as he knocked on the front door.

When it opened, a handsome mortgage broker in his mid-40s, Ed Smart, and his wife Lois, welcomed Mitchell inside.

Just then, the Smarts' daughters, 14-year-old Elizabeth and 9-year-old Mary Catherine, scurried by.

Mitchell extended an eager good morning to the girls.

They offered polite smirks and shuffled up to their shared bedroom.

Mitchell clocked their course upstairs and down the hall.

He'd met Lois, Mary Catherine, and Elizabeth earlier that week while panhandling.

Lois had taken pity on him and offered him work at the house, which he enthusiastically accepted.

But during their interaction, it was Elizabeth, the pretty one, who piqued his interest.

To him, she would make the perfect virginal bride.

Ed inadvertently interrupted Mitchell's stare by suggesting they patch some worn shingles on the leaky roof before clearing the yard of autumn leaves.

When the day's work ended, Ed handed Mitchell $50.

He asked the panhandler to return the next day, and Mitchell agreed.

But it would be 15 months before he found himself inside the smart home again.

Mitchell raced back to his makeshift camp in the Wasatch Hills.

There, his wife Wanda desperately tried to follow as he frothed at the mouth, ranting about plans of abduction.

He insisted they bring Elizabeth home to the woods.

The beautiful girl would be his new bride and Wanda's true sister wife.

Wanda was well versed in her husband's prophecy.

After all, she'd transcribed 27 pages of his dogmatic rambling in fine calligraphy.

She knew God planned for Mitchell to marry seven young and comely virgin brides, but Wanda always assumed these sister wives would be raised as her new daughters.

Having been estranged from her own children for the better part of a decade, Wanda was once thrilled at the prospect of a new family, but now that the day had arrived, she was wounded by Mitchell's desire for new spouses.

She even wrote in her diary about it.

In the end, however, she talked herself into accepting Mitchell's decree as an Abrahamic test.

Mitchell always said a time would come when Wanda would have to make sacrifices to prove her devotion to God, just as Abraham had to when God demanded he kill his only son.

And while Wanda had no desire to share her marital bed with another woman, she'd given up on thinking for herself some time ago.

It was easier to endure God's test and obey her prophet husband.

That was the deal she made in exchange for her husband's love and protection.

Not that he was much of a protector.

They lived in a jerry-rigged teepee in the wild, urinated in buckets, and begged for scraps of food.

But Wanda made every effort to keep up her end of the bargain because she couldn't bear to be on her own again.

While it might be hard to understand why Wanda would continue to follow Mitchell, it's important to remember her past.

She was sexually abused by her father and routinely beaten by her first husband.

By the time she met her second husband, her fears of being used, hurt, abused, or abandoned guided her every move.

Mitchell was Wanda's safety, and she clung to him no matter what.

Before we continue with Wanda's psychology, I'm not a licensed psychologist or psychiatrist, but I have done a lot of research for this show.

According to her article, Terror, Love, and Brainwashing, social psychologist and cult expert Dr.

Alexandra Stain said, people run to a safe haven when they're afraid.

If the brainwasher has been successful, the recruit, now having had fear instilled by the brainwasher, runs to the only safe haven available, the brainwasher himself.

This creates a trauma bond that is difficult to break so long as the person remains isolated from alternate safe havens.

The person goes into a freeze mode and is unable to think clearly.

This explains why perfectly intelligent people can find themselves unable to rationally view a brainwasher.

The lack of alternate information and true havens undermine a follower's cognitive processes on matters regarding the brainwasher.

Wanda Barzee didn't seem to have a will of her own anymore.

Mitchell's prophetic delusions became Wanda's safe haven, her reality.

So when he insisted she help him kidnap Elizabeth Smart, Wanda complied.

It's unclear why they waited so long to put their plan in motion, but about a year and a half after he worked for the Smarts, on June 5th, 2002, 49-year-old Mitchell was ready to do the deed.

He left 56-year-old Wanda to prepare the camp while he retrieved his new bride.

It took hours to make it down the mountain, but once he found himself outside the Smarts' home, it didn't take long for him to discover a way in.

Earlier that evening, Lois Smart had burned dinner.

To clear the smoke, she opened a narrow window off the patio, but she neglected to close it before going to bed.

The cracked window presented an open invitation to Mitchell.

He used his pocketknife to cut the screen and slipped into the house.

Once inside, he tread carefully so as not to wake the sleeping Smarts.

He kept thinking, if God wanted him to take the girl, he would allow it.

With the exception of the light creaks of the floorboards under his feet, the house remained silent.

He crept upstairs.

In the darkness, he slithered down the hall undetected.

Slowly, he turned the door handle to the child's room, the heat of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Though the room was dim, his eyes landed on her body.

He inched over and for a moment hovered above Elizabeth, who slept soundly next to her little sister.

Mitchell almost hated to wake the child.

Still, he placed the steel blade against her neck.

She woke startled.

Before she could make a sound, Mitchell leaned in and whispered for the girl to stay silent and get out of bed, or he'd kill her and her whole family.

Suddenly trapped in a nightmare, Elizabeth kept quiet to stay alive.

The kidnapper pushed her toward the door, and she knew better than to fight back for fear he'd hurt the little sister she left sleeping in her bed.

Mitchell moved his hostage down the stairs, and when he noticed a lineup of the family's shoes, he demanded Elizabeth grab a pair.

Then he pushed her out into the frigid night air.

Mitchell guided his hostage into the foothills behind the home as her family slept.

The night was wet and cold.

If a car passed or Mitchell heard something suspicious, he threw the girl into the brush and lay on top of her, knife to her throat.

They climbed for hours until they finally reached an open grove of old oak trees.

Mitchell pointed and said that his wife was up there.

Then he yelled, Hepzibah!

Wanda appeared and called back, Emmanuel?

Wanda sized up the child.

She pulled the girl into her, but this was no hug.

Instead, it was a dominant grip, a threat that demanded the hostage's obedience or else.

Satisfied she'd communicated who was boss, Wanda jerked the girl into the tent.

She pushed her to the washbin and barked at her to take off her clothes or she'd have Emmanuel rip them off.

Elizabeth tried to run, but but Mitchell intercepted her at the tent's entrance.

He grabbed her and said if she let out so much as a whimper, he'd duct tape her mouth shut.

Then he threw her onto the ground.

She begged him to leave her be.

She screamed that she was just a child, but it made no difference.

Mitchell advanced.

Elizabeth blurted out that she hadn't even had her period yet.

This gave Mitchell pause, but when he shot an inquisitive look at Wanda to ask if it was wise to proceed, she nodded that it was.

The first night of her captivity, Mitchell raped 14-year-old Elizabeth, and Wanda Barzee watched it happen, doing nothing to stop it.

Wanda made no effort to comfort her hostage.

She forced the girl to sleep on the hard dirt with moldy old blankets.

She ignored the girl's bruises and cuts.

Even when Mitchell wrapped an industry-grade steel cable around the girl's ankle to keep her from escaping, Wanda just grinned.

Elizabeth tugged at the wire.

She ripped at the steel cord until her fingers bled, but there was no hope.

It was strong, bolted to a tree.

Even when Elizabeth's fitful attempts to free herself gave way to great sobs, Wanda ignored her.

The morning after the abduction, Wanda finally offered comfort.

She said it was the girl's wedding day, which meant it was her time to cry, so she'd best get it out, but know that she wouldn't be allowed to go on crying forever.

When the tears dried, Mitchell said Elizabeth was Wanda's handmaiden, the second wife.

Wanda was mother and Elizabeth was slave.

Then he disrobed the girl and asked her to follow closely as he and Wanda played Adam and Eve.

Wanda stood compliant while Mitchell began his anatomy class.

He pointed to the first wife's private parts and explained what he intended to do to them, and to Elizabeth's parts too.

When he saw Elizabeth had closed her eyes in fear or disgust, he erupted in anger.

He raged, you're self-righteous and weak, no better than a homeless prostitute.

Then Mitchell said, the Bible teaches that before one can rise above sin, one has to descend beneath it.

Hepzibah and I will show you the low things of the world, pornography, booze, and drugs.

Then you can ascend with us.

Wanda backed him completely, buying into Mitchell's delusions once again.

She said God demanded they all get in the gutter before rising to show their holy worth.

At every turn, Wanda proved herself Mitchell's willing accomplice, reinforcing her commitment to his invented faith.

She even stood there and watched again when, after the biology lesson, Mitchell raped Elizabeth for the second time in 24 hours.

For the next several months, the days repeated themselves as if on loop.

According to her autobiography, My Story, Mitchell raped Elizabeth almost every single day, and Wanda never intervened or tried to help.

Not once.

Having been brainwashed by her husband, she'd given into his system of belief.

Even though Wanda was a mother, even though Wanda herself had suffered sexual abuse, she had no sympathy for Elizabeth.

Perhaps because she was no longer Wanda.

She was Hepzibah, and Hepsiba's duty was to Emmanuel.

Therefore, it wasn't her place to interject or condemn the rape of the child.

Her husband's delusions were her own.

She didn't see a problem.

According to the article, Shared Psychotic Disorder by psychiatric researchers Faras al-Saif and Yasir al-Khalili, shared psychotic disorder is an unusual mental disorder characterized by sharing a delusion among two or more people in a close relationship.

The inducer, who has a psychotic disorder with delusions, influences the induced with a specific belief.

The majority of cases were among married or common law couples with poor interaction with society.

The induced can undergo influence under frightening conditions in the absence of social comparison, and the conviction to certain ideas will eventually prevail as the only solution to maintain a mutual relationship.

The only thing Wanda really wanted was to maintain her relationship with Mitchell.

She couldn't face the thought of having another husband walk away.

Still, she grew upset over his attention toward their young hostage.

Try as she might, she couldn't contain her mounting jealousy.

By September of 2002, 56-year-old Wanda began lashing out.

She fell into fits of screaming, calling Mitchell lustful and berating him for obeying every carnal impulse.

But Mitchell could usually calm Wanda with little shows of repentance.

When Wanda got upset, Mitchell begged her for a blessing only she could perform.

This always softened her mood.

She would take Mitchell's hands and, together, they would pray.

During these blessings, Mitchell reminded Wanda he was the chosen prophet, but that he still needed her.

He would say that even Moses had the help and guidance of his family, his older brother, Aaron.

Mitchell needed the guidance and understanding of his first wife, and she believed him.

In these moments, she re-upped, choosing to stay strong for her prophet husband.

Usually, after these rows, Mitchell felt newly energized.

To make good, he headed into town and refused to return until he could bring back food.

One night, Mitchell returned to camp, thrilled to share the booty he'd scored.

He snuck into the tent and quietly opened boxes of fast food, allowing the aroma to waft and wake the wives.

Wanda and Elizabeth ransacked through the bags of stolen snacks.

Over the moon that her man actually provided for her, Wanda uncorked a bottle of wine and raised a toast.

Mitchell beamed.

He told the wives that Christ's true disciples recognized him as their prophet and handed him money, food, whatever he said he needed.

In this case, that even included a bucket of fried chicken.

Mitchell poured himself a hefty glass of wine.

He ripped a biscuit into three pieces and recited the prayer for the sacrament.

Once he'd gulped his booze down, he passed it to Wanda.

She partook and gave the glass to Elizabeth.

At first, the hostage refused the alcohol, but Mitchell insisted she drink it.

Wanda, too, urged her sister wife to chug it down.

When Elizabeth refused again, Mitchell threw a fit.

He marched over to Elizabeth and said if she didn't drink it all right then and there, she wouldn't get any food.

But she was starving.

She needed to eat.

And though she had never touched alcohol before, she took a small sip.

But Mitchell insisted she drink more.

He pinned her down and forced the wine down her throat.

He filled another glass and repeated the torture.

After Elizabeth swallowed every last drop, Mitchell tossed her a bucket of fried chicken.

She hadn't eaten in close to two weeks.

Binging on biscuits and oily meat, Elizabeth thought she might throw up, but she couldn't stop herself.

She was ravenous.

Meanwhile, Wanda and Mitchell devoured their food, too.

All the the while, they laughed at Elizabeth.

When she finally stopped eating, Mitchell made her wash everything down with more booze.

The captors noticed she might be sick, so they tossed a metal bowl in her direction, but Elizabeth was too drunk to aim.

She threw up violently, then passed out.

The fact that she was unconscious was no deterrent for Mitchell.

Again, he raped her.

The next morning, Elizabeth woke disoriented.

Her hair was crusted with vomit, and her spirit was broken.

If only she could send some signal home.

Down in Salt Lake City proper, a search was underway, but to no avail.

It had been months since Elizabeth's abduction, and most of her family had given up hope.

The one person who believed Elizabeth was still out there was her little sister, 10-year-old Mary Catherine.

Mary Catherine had actually been awake when Elizabeth was taken.

She'd pretended to be asleep because she was scared of the strange man in their room.

She told her family she thought she remembered the kidnapper from some work he'd done on the house.

She said it had to be the preacher from the street, Emmanuel.

But when Mitchell worked for the Smarts, he was clean-shaven with short hair.

He passed himself off as a legitimate preacher, and the composite drawings the police had worked up were based on that visual.

Had the police considered Emmanuel at all, they'd be looking for the wrong man.

Meanwhile, up at the mountain camp, Wanda continued Elizabeth's religious education.

She recited their doctrine, the book of Emmanuel David Isaiah, out loud for the girl to absorb.

When she ran out of religious text, she read her journal aloud.

Every second Wanda kept Elizabeth engaged was a second she didn't have to watch her husband prey on a lesser wife.

But the longer they lived with Elizabeth, the more Wanda saw her as competition.

Shackled to the trees, the child was never out of sight.

She even slept between Wanda and her man.

Wanda needed space, a change of scenery.

So the next time Mitchell announced he was heading into the city for provisions, Wanda insisted she and Elizabeth join join him.

Mitchell eventually caved on one condition.

The wives had to wear veils.

Wanda stitched veils of thick cotton onto canvas headdresses.

The head covers shrouded anything above the eyebrows, and the veils hid everything below the eyes.

When they wore them, both Wanda and Elizabeth were unrecognizable.

Pleased with the costumes, they hiked down to town.

But at the base of the mountain, Mitchell stopped to remind his hostage that he had no problem killing her.

He'd kill her whole family if she gave him reason.

And Wanda confirmed, he'll do it, and you won't be able to stop him.

He is Emmanuel.

Mitchell led the girls through town in search of food and drink.

He caught wind of a party.

Wanda had no interest, but Mitchell put his foot down.

There would be free food and free booze, and they couldn't couldn't afford to pass that up.

By morning, Mitchell was so wasted, he couldn't make it back up to camp, so Wanda decided they would buy time at the library.

It was a good hideout, too, until the trio was approached by a casually dressed man.

As he drew close, he pulled out a badge.

The man was a homicide detective and had a few questions.

Wanda's eyes darted to Mitchell, but he stayed cool.

The officer said he'd received several phone calls suggesting the veiled girl could be a child reported as missing.

He asked Elizabeth to remove her veil so he could see her face.

At that moment, Wanda felt Elizabeth light up with hope.

Her own breath, however, grew tight with panic.

She clamped her nails down on Elizabeth's leg and dug into her thigh.

Mitchell was sober enough to think on his feet.

He claimed that Elizabeth was his daughter.

He told the officer that only her family could see her face, as she was pure and needed to be protected from the sin in men's eyes.

All the while, Elizabeth stared at her potential rescuer, wanting so badly to rip off her veil and reveal her identity.

But she was too scared Mitchell and Wanda would go after her family, so she remained still and silent.

And eventually, Mitchell convinced the officer to continue on his way.

It was too close a call.

On the way back to base camp, Mitchell plotted a move.

It was too dangerous to stay near Salt Lake, and with winter on the horizon, it would be too cold to stay on the mountain.

They had to move somewhere warm and sunny.

Suddenly, he knew where to take the girl: San Diego, California.

14-year-old Elizabeth Smart was taken at knife point from her childhood home in Salt Lake City.

Her kidnapper, Brian David Mitchell, brought her to a camp in the woods, where he and his wife, Wanda Barzee, raped, beat, starved, and humiliated the child to the extreme.

To Elizabeth, Wanda was more of a monster than Mitchell.

Wanda knew the depth of the girl's suffering, but never lifted a finger to help.

Elizabeth wondered how another woman, a mother even, could stand by and let this abuse happen.

As winter approached, Mitchell decided it was time to leave Utah.

They loaded onto a bus and rode 800 miles to a campsite in San Diego County.

But this move was by no means a fresh start.

By the time the trio arrived, Wanda was sick of Mitchell's neglect.

He never looked at her the way he gazed at Elizabeth.

Entirely insecure, Wanda demanded some changes.

She felt jilted and needed to remind her husband that the girl was only just the second wife.

But Mitchell never took Wanda's concerns seriously.

He let her rage simmer, constantly boiling under the surface.

Every day, Mitchell went out in search of food and booze, but every day he returned to camp empty-handed.

Wanda and Elizabeth were starving to death.

Finally, in late December, Mitchell came back with good news.

He told Wanda he'd been invited for a home-cooked meal by someone he met while preaching on a street corner.

He boasted of chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, and cake, but he'd brought none of it back for his wives.

Wanda flew into a rage.

She asked Mitchell why he thought so little of her.

She laid into him for shoving his face full of food, but coming back with nothing but a story about it.

She screamed she'd been eating like a mouse.

How could he bring back nothing?

Mitchell reminded Wanda who she was speaking to.

He warned her to be careful, for he was the true prophet.

But she couldn't stop.

Weeks and weeks of pent-up rage had been sharpened by hunger and exhaustion.

She kept on screaming until finally he fled from the camp.

Mitchell stayed away all day and night, and he didn't come back the next morning or the next.

Losing him was always Wanda's worst fear, and now he truly was gone.

Mentally, she beat herself up for causing his disappearance.

If she could get a do-over, she'd never have yelled at him in the first place.

At least a week went by before he came back.

At first, she was elated to see him, but then he told her where he'd been.

Jail.

He was arrested for drunkenly wandering the street.

He expected Wanda's sympathy, but she was all out.

She hated him for getting meals in jail while she had to forage tree nuts.

She railed on him for getting to sleep in a real bed and take showers while she and the girl were left for dead.

Wanda had enough.

For For days, she'd worried that something had happened to him.

Instead, he was just relaxing in jail, living the sweet life.

Irate, she reached for Mitchell's serrated knife and pressed it against her own neck.

Death would be better than one more minute with him.

But Mitchell was non-plussed.

She doubled down.

She was going to do it, going to kill herself right then and there.

Still, Mitchell offered no discernible reaction.

Wanda stormed off through the brush.

She was gone for at least a full day, and when she returned, she was different.

Fire filled Wanda's eyes.

Slowly, she moved to grab the book of Emmanuel David Isaiah.

With her hand on their scripture, her eyes went dead.

Then she methodically ripped out every scribbled page.

She let the sheets of calligraphy blow away in the wind as she tore, shredded, and destroyed.

At first, Mitchell just laughed.

He didn't need the written word.

The doctrine was locked in his mind.

But when Wanda's outburst came to an end, she explained she'd been with Satan's hosts all night.

Mitchell's ears perked up.

Now she was strong and knew what her next course had to be.

She had to leave San Diego.

As if rehearsed, Elizabeth chimed in with support.

She said it was time to hitchhike home.

Surprisingly, Mitchell agreed.

The trio hitchhiked back to Utah, clad in old street clothes and cheap wigs.

They weren't recognized or even questioned.

By March 12, 2003, they were only about 20 miles from home, but their hitchhiking luck ran out.

They couldn't find a ride for the last leg.

They'd have to take a bus bus instead.

Worried that someone might recognize Elizabeth, Mitchell made her wear a gray-haired wig.

The bus was packed.

Forced to stand, Wanda surveyed the other passengers.

She knew she and her crew stood out.

They were in too close a proximity to maintain anonymity.

The other passengers were clean, well-dressed.

They were in dingy rags.

Then Wanda noticed a man staring at Elizabeth.

Her heart raced.

She nudged Mitchell.

When he made contact with the man, the guy asked, who are you?

Mitchell ignored the stranger, but the man followed up with, where are you headed?

Again, Mitchell kept his head down, but then the guy said, why is she wearing a gray wig?

Mitchell curtly responded that it was a religious practice and pulled the stop cord.

He and Wanda quickly edged Elizabeth off the bus.

When they were in the clear, Mitchell grabbed her.

Shaking her, he said, Once I get you back to camp, you will never leave.

I will not put myself in danger again.

I am too important to the world.

Just then, police sirens blipped.

As the captor berated his hostage on the street, a cop car pulled up beside them.

Wanda cursed and pulled Elizabeth along the sidewalk, but it was too late.

An officer approached.

The trio walked walked fast, heads down, but then another police car arrived and another one.

Mitchell ignored them as they called out, sir, we need to talk to you.

Please stop.

We need to see your ID.

Finally, the officers pulled Elizabeth from Wanda's grip.

One kindly asked, What's your name?

The officer's eyes assured Elizabeth she was safe.

She opened her mouth and three words trickled out: I am Elizabeth.

The cops pulled Elizabeth into a rescue car and brought her back to the station where she was reunited with her father.

Since she'd been taken nine months earlier, the police had undergone a wild manhunt.

Finally, they had their kidnappers.

Finally, Elizabeth was home.

Criminal reports were filed on March 18, 2003 in Utah State Court, charging Wanda Barzee and her co-defendant, Brian David Mitchell, with two counts each of aggravated burglary, aggravated sexual assault, and one count of aggravated kidnapping.

Before proceedings could begin, the courts had to decide if Wanda was mentally competent to stand trial.

They needed to determine if her delusions would persist now that she'd been separated from Mitchell.

But her mental health issues extended farther back than her interactions with her husband, nearly 20 years.

The evaluation showed that even with space for Mitchell, Wanda was delusional.

She was not fit to participate in court proceedings.

Instead, she was ordered to spend time in treatment at a state facility.

It was a long time coming.

Wanda had struggled with untreated mental illness for most of her life.

Even Wanda's children confirmed that her episodes had always been a taboo topic in their home.

Her son Derek said that he and his siblings knew their mother was sick, but she had a lifetime of refusing help.

While Wanda was in treatment, the legal proceedings marched forward.

On March 5th, 2008, she was formally charged with kidnapping and unlawful transportation of a minor.

Wanda pled guilty in federal court.

The following year, the Utah court sentenced Wanda to 15 years in federal prison.

She served seven years in a federal penitentiary and was transferred to the state prison in early 2016.

But in April of that year, the state board realized they miscalculated her sentencing terms.

They credited her for her time in prison and the state hospital pre-conviction, but failed to credit her for her time in federal prison.

At her parole hearing on June 12, 2018, Wanda's lawyer addressed the issue, contending that her federal sentence ran concurrently with her state sentence.

Thus, the board issued a revised sentence set to end on September 19, 2018.

Due to the miscalculation, Wanda was released six years earlier than anticipated.

Her release was controversial, but ultimately upheld.

As of this episode's release in 2021, Wanda is 75 years old.

She's a registered sex offender and was last reported living near a Salt Lake City elementary school.

Thanks for joining me for this episode of Criminal Couples.

For more stories like this, listen to Female Criminals for free on Spotify.

This collection was developed by Chelsea Wood.

This episode of Criminal Couples was written by Abigail Cannon, production assistance by Bruce Kitovich and Ron Shapiro, fact-checking by Haley Milliken and hosted by Vanessa Richardson.

This episode of Criminal Couples comes from Female Criminals, hosted by Vanessa Richardson, sound design by Anthony Valsick, with production assistance by Ron Shapiro, Carly Madden, and Erin Larson.

This episode of Serial Killers was written by John Levinson, with writing assistance by by Abigail Cannon, fact-checking by Haley Milliken, and research by Mickey Taylor.

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