Father of murder victim confronts former son-in-law sentenced for killing aspiring Pullman chef: ‘I trusted you’

COLFAX – Troy Wilson stood before the man who murdered his daughter, trying to get him to understand how her death has gutted his family.

As Wilson spoke, his voice grew louder and louder with emotion as he pointed at Jacob Spray, who sat beside the Whitman County courtroom podium in a white and orange jail jumpsuit with his head down.

“I trusted you,” Wilson said Monday at Spray’s sentencing for killing Jamie Wilson-Spray, looking directly at his former son-in-law. “I loved you. I welcomed you into my home and family. Look what you have done.”

Wilson was cut off by Spray’s defense attorney, who badgered him for speaking directly to his client, but a Whitman County judge allowed his emotional statement to continue.

“May God have mercy on your soul, Jacob Spray,” Wilson concluded.

He was one of 12 speakers who arrived in Colfax to talk about their beloved sister, daughter, granddaughter, cousin and friend. Others who knew and loved Wilson-Spray filled the rest of the seats in the courtroom.

Spray, 36, was sentenced to 26 years in prison on Monday for killing his 25-year-old estranged wife, Wilson-Spray, at her home in Pullman last year. It is the maximum sentence in the standard range allowed under Washington law for a first-time felony and first-degree murder.

Wilson-Spray’s whole life was ahead of her, her family said Monday. Her father recalled their last conversation before her brutal murder, in which she gleefully told him, “The world is my oyster, dad.”

“I was so proud of her,” Wilson told the court. “The world was her oyster, and she was about to go do many great things.”

Wilson-Spray was three weeks from completing her master’s degree at Washington State University and working as a chef, looking to eventually open her own restaurant. She was a loving aunt, goal-oriented, liked to try new things, was crafty and continually chased new opportunities, her family previously told The Spokesman-Review.

Former friends and co-workers told the court she was always heard singing, laughing and dancing. Her joy was infectious, there was nothing she couldn’t do, and her love radiated to her nieces and nephews, who looked up to her, her family said.

“She was such a bright spot,” Wilson said. “She was so talented, and so brave.”

On March 26, while interviewing over the phone for a job in Spokane at a community kitchen, Wilson-Spray was heard screaming in terror until the line went dead. Spray, her estranged husband at the time, burst into her home, only to beat and rape her for an hour and a half until he wrapped his hands around her neck and strangled her. It took five minutes for her to die, medical experts testified.

“The two weeks of trial were the hardest days of my life … There are things burned into my brain I will never unsee. I sat through every detail about how he did it,” Wilson-Spray’s sister, Ashley Sczenski, told the court. “Every time my phone rings, I’m brought right back to that day and the sound of (another sister’s) voice, ‘She’s gone; he killed her.’ ”

Spray’s jealousy was a “buildup,” Whitman County Chief Deputy Prosecutor Dan LeBeau said. Wilson-Spray had just filed for divorce; meanwhile, Spray had placed secret cameras in her trailer, kept track of her texts and was constantly calling to harass her up until her death. When he found out she had seen another man the night before, he flew into a rage, LeBeau said previously.

“He needed to control her … She was his possession,” LeBeau said. “His family thought he was looking at her lovingly. Over time, it was like he was looking at her as a prized possession … Like a sports car.”

When police confronted Spray after the killing, he denied knowing what happened to Jamie and attempted to run from police until he was arrested and booked into jail. He later confessed to the killing to members of his family.

During his sentencing, Spray apologized to his family and to Wilson-Spray’s family, and said her death weighs on him, but the judge responded that he observed no remorse nor tears.

Her family is still attempting to move forward without her – holidays and gatherings aren’t the same anymore, they told the court.

For Wilson-Spray’s grandmother, Susan Tate, grief is the price of love. Everyone pays that, she told the judge. But she cannot wrap her head around the fact a man who was supposed to love and cherish her “little buttercup” would brutally murder her.

“Jacob’s actions were like a tsunami that ripped through our family tree, threatening to drown us,” Tate said. “Never again will I hear Jamie come bounding through the back door … Never again will we sit on the back porch watching the sun go down.”

The ripple effect of her loss touched all of Wilson-Spray’s nieces and nephews, two of whom wrote a victim impact statement to the court. At just 9 years old, one of the nieces wrote that she hated Spray. Her other 13-year-old niece wrote she hopes he knows “how many kids will grow up to have trust issues because of you.”

Wilson-Spray’s brother-in-law, Patrick Schneider, told the judge his 8-year-old is struggling to comprehend her death – so much so, he has changed his daily routine because too many things remind him of her, Schneider said.

“This is an 8-year-old child, and his life has been altered already. I have no way to remedy this as a father,” he said. “The impact this has on our family will be forever.”

Amber Moore, Wilson-Spray’s sister, had a much shorter message for the court to address how her death affected her family.

“The scariest monsters aren’t the ones under your bed. The scariest monsters are the ones in your family pictures and the ones that held your children,” Moore said. “… My kids don’t ask me to check the closet for monsters anymore. They ask me if Jacob’s still in jail.”

Spray was previously found guilty of first-degree rape in connection to the murder, but the charge was dropped at sentencing due to a Supreme Court case about double jeopardy.