The Suicide That Didn’t Add Up:
The Disturbing Case of Nikki LaDue January
Some cases don’t sit right—not with the family, not with those who examine the facts, and not with anyone who values justice.
In 2002, Nikki LaDue January was found dead on the back patio of her Mississippi condo. She had a gunshot wound to the head. A weapon was nearby. Her husband said he found her there and called 911.
The case was ruled a suicide almost immediately. No autopsy. No forensic testing. No meaningful scene analysis.
But Nikki’s mother, Bonnie, wasn’t convinced. And as time passed, neither were others who took a closer look.
A Mother's Plea: “Was My Daughter Suicidal?”
When Bonnie reached out to me, she was desperate for clarity. She brought me samples of Nikki’s handwriting—not as a formality, but with a mother’s question heavy in her voice…
Was there any indication my daughter wanted to die?In addition to determining that there were no indicators of suicidal ideation in Nikki’s handwriting, I advised her to obtain the crime scene photos. I also offered to refer her to a homicide detective I had known and worked with for decades for an independent review.
She explained that she had already tried to get the photos but found the lead detective extremely difficult to work with—abrasive, dismissive, and uncooperative. I suggested she provide a handwriting sample from the detective, so I could guide her on how best to approach him. Later, she provided a signature from the lead investigator on the case—Tom Pustay.
As a forensic handwriting analyst, I’ve often seen how unconscious traits emerge in penmanship, especially under emotional pressure. What I found in Nikki’s writing stood out.
🔍 Finding: Nikki’s handwriting showed no signs of suicidal ideation. Her strokes were deliberate, consistent, full of energy, futuristic, and emotionally stable—suggesting determination, not despair.
The detective’s signature, however, told a different story.
🔍 Finding: Pustay’s handwriting revealed traits consistent with deviance, defensiveness, danger potential toward children, and more—especially troubling given his authority and Nikki’s young son.
Out of professional obligation, I advised Bonnie to keep her distance from him.
Three years later, that warning would prove chillingly justified.
The Arrest That Changed Everything
In May 2005, Bonnie sent me a mugshot that caught me off guard—I had completely forgotten about him. It turned out that Detective Tom Pustay, the very man who had overseen Nikki’s case, had been arrested on multiple counts of sexual battery involving juveniles.
🚨 Details:
✅ Held at Harrison County Jail on $200,000 bond
✅ Charged with molesting multiple children over a 7-year span
✅ Resigned from the Pass Christian Police Department after 21 years
The news sent shockwaves through the coastal Mississippi law enforcement community. For Bonnie, it was a chilling reminder that the man once assigned to investigate Nikki’s death—now charged with manipulation, deviance, and abuse—might have been hiding something darker about her daughter’s case all along.
Unanswered Questions Still Echo
Even after his arrest, no official re-investigation of Nikki’s case occurred.
Was the evidence fully and properly examined?
Were alternate explanations for Nikki’s death suppressed or ignored?
Could the patterns in Pustay’s behavior have compromised other investigations?
While whispers of a case review circulated, no substantive updates have emerged publicly. The truth about Nikki remains buried.
A Parallel Case: Another “Suicide” That Didn’t Sit Right
Not long after Nikki’s case, I was contacted by another grieving parent—Josie Dyer—whose son Ricky died in Nevada under similar circumstances many years prior.
The cause was also ruled a suicide. Again, the handwriting told a different story.
🔍 Finding: Ricky’s writing showed no signs of suicidal ideation.
🔍 Finding: Individuals close to him exhibited traits suggesting manipulative or violent behavior.
🔍 Conclusion: The possibility of homicide could not be ruled out.
Authorities disagreed. The official ruling stood. But for Josie, as with Bonnie, the unanswered questions persisted.
⚠ Note: The Real Crimes archive where Ricky’s story once appeared is no longer online. However, can you read about Ricky here.
Why These Cases Still Matter
Cases like Nikki’s and Ricky’s raise urgent ethical questions about how easily some deaths are dismissed as suicides—especially when they involve women, domestic strain, or questionable investigators.
According to the CDC, firearms remain the most common method of suicide in the U.S., but forensic misclassification of staged deaths as suicides is an increasing concern among investigative professionals. A 2017 study in the Journal of Criminal Justice found that up to 25% of suicide cases had investigative inconsistencies significant enough to merit reopening.
In both of these cases, those inconsistencies weren’t just present—they were glaring.
Final Reflection
Justice isn’t just about convictions—it’s about doing the right thing, even when it's uncomfortable.
The death of Nikki LaDue January was hastily classified and quietly closed. But the people who knew her—and those who examined her case—still see it for what it is: unfinished business.
The same holds true for Ricky. For both families, the fight isn’t about revenge. It’s about truth, accountability, and the hope that someone—somewhere—will care enough to take another look.
Until then, these cases stand as a stark reminder: not all suicides are what they seem.
Originally published on Wordpress in 2012.
Dr. Mozelle Martin is a forensic handwriting expert, retired clinical director, and international law enforcement consultant with 38 years of investigative experience. Her work centers on ethics, forensic analysis, and animal advocacy across behavioral science, digital defamation, and applied psychology.