Police Needed Therapy After Witnessing This Crime

On the humid evening of June 21, 2013, the stifling North Florida heat hung heavily over the working-class neighborhoods of Jacksonville. Rain Periwinkle stepped out into the oppressive air alongside her three young daughters, searching for relief from the summer monotony.

Money was painfully tight for the family, but Rain wanted to give her girls a simple evening out. They made their way toward the local Dollar General on Lem Turner Road, hoping to browse the discounted racks for affordable clothing.

Eight-year-old Cherish Periwinkle walked alongside her mother, her bright eyes scanning the colorful displays inside the store. Cherish was eagerly anticipating an upcoming summer trip to California to visit her father, making the shopping trip feel special.

Her younger sisters, five-year-old Destiny and two-year-old Noah, trailed close behind while Rain navigated the narrow aisles. The family focused on finding a cute, inexpensive outfit that Cherish could wear for her upcoming flight across the country.

As they browsed, Cherish fell in love with a little black-and-white dress hanging on one of the metal display racks. Rain looked at the price tag with a heavy heart, knowing her meager budget could not cover the simple purchase.

Unbeknownst to Rain, every movement her family made was being meticulously observed from across the aisle. Standing near the store entrance was an older white man with short gray hair, watching the young mother and her children.

The man stood completely motionless, his dark eyebrows heavy above a steady, unblinking stare that followed the girls. He watched the interaction between Rain and her daughters with an intense, calculated focus, lingering silently near the doorway.

Rain caught a glimpse of the stranger while trying on shoes with her children near the front of the store. Looking to her right, she noticed the man standing by the entrance, staring directly at her family like a spectator.

The uncomfortable sensation made Rain feel uneasy, but she attempted to brush it off as mere paranoia. She focused her attention back on her daughters, trying to ignore the silent figure that seemed to hover nearby.

A few moments later, when Rain looked back toward the entrance, the gray-haired stranger had completely vanished from sight. Relieved by his sudden absence, Rain continued browsing the store racks, assuming the man had simply finished his shopping.

After purchasing a few tiny necessities that her limited funds allowed, Rain gathered her three daughters to leave. As the glass doors slid open and they stepped out into the parking lot, the same gray-haired man appeared.

He was waiting just outside the storefront, leaning against the exterior wall as if expecting their exit. The stranger approached Rain with a warm, disarming smile that masked his predatory intentions, striking up a casual conversation.

He introduced himself simply as Don, speaking in a gentle, reassuring tone designed to put the struggling mother at ease. Don made a sympathetic comment about how difficult it appeared to raise three young children in tough economic times.

“If you really want that dress, I’ll get it for you,” he said.

Rain looked at him in surprise, caught off guard by the sudden offer of generosity from a complete stranger. She hesitated, unsure of how to respond to the unsolicited kindness of a man she had never seen before.

“You look like you have your hands full,” Don added. “I have a couple of little ones.”

He went on to explain that his wife was currently on her way to meet him at the store. Don claimed that his wife possessed a Walmart gift card loaded with one hundred and fifty dollars that they rarely used.

“I have a hundred and fifty dollar gift card,” Don told Rain. “I’m waiting on my wife.”

He explained that his wife had no use for the balance and would be delighted to give it away. The prospect of receiving such assistance felt like an absolute lifeline for the financially strained mother of three young children.

Rain remained cautious, explicitly telling the man that she did not accept rides from strangers and had no vehicle. Don reassured her that his wife was driving a gold sedan and would arrive at the parking lot momentarily.

As they stood outside waiting, dark storm clouds gathered overhead, and a heavy summer rain began to pour down. The three little girls pulled out their umbrellas, laughing as they splashed around in the fresh puddles forming nearby.

Rain kept checking the street, watching for the promised gold car that Don insisted was just minutes away. Every few minutes, she asked him where his wife was, growing increasingly anxious as the rain began to fall harder.

Don offered steady reassurances, maintaining that his wife was delayed in traffic but definitely on her way to meet them. However, as the downpour intensified, no gold sedan appeared on the horizon, increasing Rain’s growing sense of discomfort.

Seeing the mother’s mounting hesitation, Don gestured toward a white, windowless Dodge van parked nearby in the lot. He suggested that instead of waiting in the rain, he could drive them directly to the nearby Walmart store.

He claimed his wife could simply meet all of them inside the Walmart retail location to deliver the gift card. Rain hesitated immediately, her maternal instincts warning her against stepping inside a stranger’s unmarked commercial van.

Noticing her hesitation, Don’s friendly demeanor shifted noticeably, his disarming warmth giving way to sharp frustration and irritation. He began pressing Rain harder, demanding to know whether she actually wanted his financial help or was wasting time.

He grew visibly snappy, adopting an annoyed attitude that pressured the vulnerable mother into making a quick decision. He even feigned offense, offering to show her his driver’s license to prove he had no harmful intentions.

Don capitalized on Rain’s desperation, knowing she was stranded in a thunderstorm with three tired children and no money. Overwhelmed by the downpour and desperate to secure clothing for Cherish, Rain reluctantly agreed to enter the commercial vehicle.

When Rain peeked inside the van, the dark, cluttered interior looked deeply suspicious, sending a fresh wave of anxiety through her. Nevertheless, she loaded her three daughters into the vehicle, and Don pulled out of the parking lot toward Walmart.

During the short drive, Rain attempted to check her mobile phone to contact someone, but the device was completely unusable. Earlier that day, her five-year-old daughter Destiny had placed the phone in the cat’s water bowl to clean it.

Without a working phone, Rain felt entirely isolated inside the moving vehicle with a man she did not know. She kept a watchful eye on Don from the passenger seat, silently praying that they would arrive safely.

The white van soon pulled into the parking lot of the massive Walmart Supercenter on Lem Turner Road. The family stepped out into the humid night, following Don through the automatic glass doors into the brightly lit retail store.

They made their way straight to the children’s apparel department, where Rain began selecting outfits for her daughters. Don briefly excused himself, stating he needed to walk back out to his van to check on something private.

A few minutes later, Don returned to the clothing section and began casually picking through items alongside the family. Rain found his presence slightly intrusive, but she rationalized that he was simply waiting for his wife to arrive.

Suddenly, Don picked up a pair of high-heeled adult shoes and held them out toward eight-year-old Cherish. He suggested that the young girl should wear them, a deeply inappropriate gesture that immediately triggered Rain’s maternal alarm.

Rain stepped in firmly, rejecting the offer right away and telling Don that high heels were entirely unsuitable for Cherish. Don backed off without argument, but his bizarre behavior added another layer of tension to the late-night shopping trips.

As the clock crept past ten o’clock at night, the young girls grew increasingly tired, hungry, and fussy from the delay. Recognizing their fatigue, Don gestured toward the front of the store, suggesting they grab a bite to eat nearby.

“I’m going to McDonald’s,” Don said. “What do you want to eat?”

Rain was looking through shoes for five-year-old Destiny, trying to find a larger size that would fit the growing girl. She assumed Don was simply walking over to the fast-food counter located inside the main entrance of the building.

Cherish offered to walk with Don to help carry the food orders back to her mother and younger sisters. Rain allowed her daughter to go, believing the fast-food counter was only a short distance away in the lit concourse.

Rain continued searching through the shoe racks for several minutes, expecting Don and Cherish to return momentarily with food. But as the minutes ticked away without any sign of her daughter, a subtle tension began building inside Rain.

Over the store’s public address system, an employee announced that the Walmart location would be closing at eleven o’clock. The realization hit Rain like a sudden jolt; the fast-food counter inside the store had already closed for the night.

Panic surged through Rain as she rushed toward the front entrance, scanning the wide corridors for any sign of Cherish. The concourse was largely empty, with employees preparing to lock the glass doors and clear out remaining shoppers.

Rain frantically searched the nearby aisles, calling out Cherish’s name, but received no response from the quiet, dimly lit store. Realizing her daughter was nowhere to be found, a wave of terror crashed over the frantic mother.

She ran toward a group of Walmart employees, screaming at the top of her lungs for someone to help her. Desperate for assistance, Rain begged the store workers to call emergency services, shouting that her young daughter had been taken.

Initial confusion among the staff delayed their response, increasing Rain’s horror as precious minutes ticked away in the empty store. Finally, a worker recognized the severity of the situation and handed Rain an internal phone line to contact dispatch.

At approximately eleven-twenty that evening, Rain connected with a Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office dispatcher, her voice shaking uncontrollably with panic. She struggled to articulate the horrific situation, her breaths coming in ragged, hysterical gasps as she described the abduction.

“Hi, at Walmart on Lem Turner, I think my daughter’s been taken,” Rain sobbed into the receiver.

“What do you mean?” the dispatcher asked.

“I can’t find her,” Rain cried out frantically.

“Where did you last see her?” the dispatcher inquired, taking down the location details.

“At Walmart,” Rain explained. “I met a man today at Dollar General. He saw that I was struggling to buy them clothes.”

She explained that she had only accepted the ride because Don promised his wife would meet them with a gift card. Rain admitted through tears that she normally never accepted rides from strangers, condemning herself for making such a catastrophic choice.

The dispatcher asked for a physical description of the missing child and the mysterious man who had vanished with her. Rain struggled to recall exact details through her overwhelming panic, her mind racing in a million terrifying directions at once.

“He’s a white man with white short hair and dark eyebrows,” Rain offered, her voice cracking under the agonizing stress.

She recounted how Don had taken Cherish to the fitting rooms twice earlier in the evening, raising red flags she had tried to ignore. Rain admitted she had been terrified of appearing overly protective or causing a scene while they were shopping together.

“I had a strange feeling about him when I first met him,” Rain confessed to the dispatcher. “Now they’re not here.”

The dispatcher inquired about the vehicle Don was driving, desperate for information that could assist responding police officers. Rain recalled that it was a white commercial van, but admitted she had failed to note the license plate number.

“I didn’t take a good look,” Rain sobbed, her regret suffocating her. “I feel like a fool.”

As the frantic telephone conversation progressed, the stark, agonizing reality of the situation fully settled over the distraught mother. Rain realized with sickening clarity that Cherish was in grave danger, voicing her worst fears to the silent operator.

“I think he killed her,” Rain whispered into the phone, her voice hollowed by absolute despair.

Within minutes of the frantic emergency call, Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office patrol units descended on the Lem Turner Road Walmart location. Officers established a perimeter around the property, while search teams combed the store’s interior and surrounding commercial lots.

Investigators immediately requested access to the store’s extensive security surveillance video feeds, rewinding footage from the entire evening. The cameras captured clear imagery of Rain, her daughters, and the white-haired stranger navigating the brightly lit retail aisles.

Horror set in among the investigating officers as they watched the video footage from the store’s exit doors. The cameras recorded Don walking out of the building around ten-fifteen that night, with eight-year-old Cherish trailing innocently behind him.

Outer surveillance cameras recorded a white Dodge conversion van with Florida license plates pulling out of the parking lot into the darkness. Cherish was trapped inside the passenger compartment as the vehicle sped away into the quiet, residential night.

By two o’clock in the morning, detectives achieved a major breakthrough by identifying the owner of the white Dodge van. The white-haired man caught on camera was fifty-six-year-old Donald James Smith, a career criminal with a horrific past.

Donald James Smith’s criminal record revealed a lifetime of predatory behavior, marked by violence and relentless offenses against children. Raised in Jacksonville on Sequoia Avenue, Smith had exhibited deeply troubling behavioral issues from a very early age.

As an adult, his initial offenses involved property crimes, theft, check fraud, and illegal utility connections throughout the region. However, in the early 1990s, Smith’s criminal trajectory escalated into terrifying territory involving the targeting of young girls.

On September 27, 1992, a thirteen-year-old girl was walking near a friend’s home when a gray van pulled beside her. The driver was a middle-aged man with dark, shoulder-length hair and a distinct, pointed nose, who offered her a ride.

The young girl sensed immediate danger and refused his offer, fleeing toward a nearby elementary school playground to escape him. She squeezed herself deep inside a plastic tube slide, hiding in the dark structure as the man pursued her on foot.

Unable to reach the child inside the narrow structure, Smith stood outside shouting terrifying threats before eventually fleeing the scene. Just hours later, Smith attempted to abduct another young child in a nearby neighborhood before law enforcement finally apprehended him.

He was convicted and sentenced to five years in state prison, but his release in 1997 did little to curb his tendencies. Despite remaining under state supervision, Smith continued to violate parole, drawing constant scrutiny from child welfare authorities.

In 2009, Smith faced severe felony charges after attempting to harm a young child while posing as a public official. Following his arrest, he deflected responsibility for his predatory actions, blaming his behavior on an extreme crack cocaine addiction.

Remarkably, in 2012, Smith secured a lenient plea agreement that resulted in a brief two-year prison sentence for his offenses. The victim’s mother had been unable to endure the emotional trauma of a public trial, prompting prosecutors to settle the case.

Smith served his brief sentence and was released from state custody on May 31, 2013, returning to his mother’s home. His freedom came less than three weeks before he encountered Rain Periwinkle and her daughters at the Dollar General store.

On the morning Cherish went missing, local police officers conducted a routine check at Smith’s registered Sequoia Avenue home address. Neighbors recognized the long-time resident, aware of his troubled past but entirely ignorant of his current whereabouts that morning.

Recognizing the acute danger to Cherish’s life, the Florida Department of Law Enforcement initiated an statewide Emergency Amber Alert. Broadcast at four-thirty in the morning, the alert detailed Smith’s white Dodge van, urging the public to report sightings.

Digital highway signs across the state flashed descriptions of the suspect vehicle, sparking a flood of incoming tips to authorities. The search gained national attention as law enforcement agencies mobilized massive resources across Northeast Florida to track the vehicle down.

Shortly after lunch that same afternoon, a vigilant state trooper spotted Smith’s white Dodge van traveling along Interstate 95. Highway patrol units and Jacksonville detectives maneuvered around the vehicle, executing a high-risk traffic stop on the busy highway.

Officers drew their sidearms and ordered the driver to step out of the van with his hands raised in the air. Smith complied without physical resistance, stepping out onto the asphalt wearing a black t-shirt and dark, heavily stained jeans.

His eyes were bloodshot, his clothes were soaked with sweat, and he appeared disheveled from hours spent on the run. Upon searching the interior of the commercial van, officers were horrified to find no trace of eight-year-old Cherish Periwinkle.

Smith was immediately placed in handcuffs and transported directly to the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office headquarters for intense interrogation. During preliminary questioning, Smith claimed he had spent the night smoking crack cocaine with prostitutes in the back of his van.

While detectives questioned the suspect at headquarters, a crucial telephone call arrived at the local emergency dispatch center. A local citizen reported seeing a suspicious white van parked near the Highlands Baptist Church on Broward Road early that morning.

The witness stated that around seven-twenty that morning, she noticed the van idling atop a small bridge spanning a nearby creek. The vehicle had been backed down a secluded access road leading into a dense, overgrown wooded area behind the church.

The caller noted that the presence of the vehicle seemed entirely out of place given the early hour and isolated location. Sensing that the sighting might be connected to the public Amber Alert, she urged law enforcement to search the area immediately.

Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office search teams, homicide detectives, and specialized K-9 units converged instantly on the Broward Road church grounds. The search area featured thick brush, tangled vines, and a murky creek winding through the heavy forest canopy overhead.

Retired K-9 Officer Charlie Wilkie arrived on the scene alongside his highly trained search dog, an experienced police canine named Gator. Wilkie commanded Gator to seek a scent trail near the bridge where the witness had reported seeing Smith’s van idling.

Gator picked up a distinct scent almost immediately, leading his handler away from the concrete bridge and downstream into the woods. The dog moved purposefully along the muddy bank, navigating through dense weeds and tangled underbrush bordering the quiet water.

As they progressed deeper into the woods, Wilkie noticed a path where tall marsh reeds had been flattened against the ground. The trampled vegetation formed a direct line leading toward a large oak tree that had fallen into the muddy creek water.

Gator signaled to his handler, sitting down near the water’s edge to indicate he had located the primary scent source. Wilkie stepped carefully over the slippery bank, peering into the murky water beneath the submerged trunk of the fallen tree.

Beneath the heavy branches of the fallen oak lay the lifeless body of eight-year-old Cherish Periwinkle. She was still wearing the distinctive orange dress patterned with small fruit designs that she had put on the previous day.

Wilkie’s heart sank as he confirmed the horrific discovery, immediately signaling to forensic teams waiting back at the perimeter. The tranquil wooded creek was instantly designated an active, highly secure crime scene as specialized personnel moved in carefully.

Crime scene investigators meticulously documented the surrounding terrain before gently recovering the young girl’s body from the dark water. Cherish was transported directly to the Duval County Medical Examiner’s Office for a detailed, comprehensive forensic autopsy examination.

The preliminary findings confirmed that Cherish had suffered brutal physical trauma and sexual assault before being violently strangled to death. The sheer cruelty of the crime sent shockwaves of grief and rage throughout the entire Jacksonville community and beyond.

In the aftermath of the discovery, intense public scrutiny turned toward the Florida Department of Children and Families. Questions surfaced regarding the agency’s past interactions with Rain Periwinkle and her history of raising her three young daughters.

Child welfare records revealed multiple prior investigations involving the family dating back to Cherish’s infancy in December 2004. Cherish was born on Christmas Eve, a child Rain often referred to as her most precious Christmas gift ever.

Cherish’s biological father, Billy Rowe, was a United States Marine who had met Rain at a San Juan Avenue establishment. Their relationship was brief, ending abruptly when Rain revealed her pregnancy and refused Billy’s demand for an immediate paternity test.

Billy disappeared from their lives, refusing to acknowledge paternity until state authorities conducted testing several years later, in 2007. The positive result left Billy facing massive child support obligations and hundreds of thousands of dollars in retroactive financial care.

He subsequently initiated an intense custody battle, alleging that Rain’s unstable lifestyle posed a significant risk to Cherish’s well-being. By 2006, Rain had hit rock bottom, residing briefly in a homeless shelter with two-year-old Cherish while struggling financially.

Reports filed with child welfare services noted instances where Rain failed to pick up Cherish from daycare facilities on time. Another incident involved an physical dispute at the shelter, resulting in mandatory parenting classes and ongoing state oversight for Rain.

Despite these struggles, a court awarded shared parental responsibility in 2010, maintaining Rain as the child’s primary residential custodian. Cherish spent weekends and summer vacations with her father, who documented their trips to Disneyland and the Grand Canyon online.

Meanwhile, Rain established a home on Ellen Avenue with her new partner, Aaron Pearson, welcoming two more daughters into her life. Cherish embraced her role as an affectionate big sister, excelling as a creative second-grade student who loved drawing continuously.

However, domestic turmoil persisted in the household, including an incident where Rain was hospitalized under the Florida Baker Act. Child welfare representatives investigated various arguments between the adults, but concluded there was insufficient evidence to remove the children.

Following Cherish’s death, agency spokesperson John Harrell defended their historical oversight, emphasizing that allegations alone did not justify removal. He stressed that predatory monsters like Donald Smith actively target vulnerable families, exploiting every opportunity to commit horrific acts.

Back at police headquarters, Donald James Smith was processed into an interrogation room while detectives gathered physical evidence from him. Forensic technicians photographed visible scratches and fresh bruising scattered across his arms, torso, and face during the booking process.

Smith remained stoic and detached, refusing to answer substantive questions regarding the events that led to Cherish’s tragic murder. His sole request was to place a telephone call to his mother so she could retain a prominent local attorney.

However, as officers escorted him back toward a secure holding cell, Smith muttered a chilling statement under his breath.

“Tell my mom not to call an attorney,” Smith whispered. “They’re going to kill me anyway. No point wasting money.”

In early June, a grand jury formally indicted Donald James Smith on charges of first-degree murder, kidnapping, and sexual battery. During his initial court arraignment, the fifty-six-year-old suspect entered a formal plea of not guilty to all counts.

While held in pre-trial detention, Smith received a monitored visit from his mother inside the Duval County Jail facility. Their recorded conversation captured a desperate, pathetic man terrified of the brutal reality awaiting him inside the state prison system.

“I can’t go to prison,” Smith pleaded with his mother during the recorded session. “My charges… they’ll stab me to death.”

“Don’t let them beat me to death,” he continued, his voice trembling. “I wouldn’t last a month. I’d be dead.”

“It is either death row or the hospital,” Smith stated coldly. “I don’t want prison. I’d rather go to death row.”

He recognized that inmates convicted of heinous crimes against young children faced immediate, violent retribution from general population prisoners. Smith expressed a distinct preference for death row, knowing capital offenders were isolated in single cells for their protection.

During the conversation, Smith grandiose nature surfaced as he compared the public outcry over his case to major national stories.

“This is way bigger than anything,” Smith declared behind the glass. “It’s way bigger than Casey Anthony. It’s way bigger.”

His mother listened in somber silence, expressing grief over the immense pain her son had inflicted upon an innocent family.

“This lady Rain, she doesn’t have that opportunity,” his mother reminded him gently. “Her daughter is gone. No last words.”

Unmoved by his mother’s sorrow, Smith asked her to send him medical manuals regarding mental health disorders to assist his defense. He hoped to study clinical symptoms to fabricate a defense strategy based on severe psychiatric illness or cognitive impairment.

As the trial date approached in early 2018, Smith’s defense attorneys requested a change of venue away from Jacksonville. They argued that relentless media coverage had saturated the local jury pool, making an impartial trial entirely impossible in Duval County.

Circuit Judge Mallory D. Cooper denied the motion, expressing confidence that an unbiased jury could be successfully selected locally. Jury selection proceeded in Duval County, culminating in the swearing-in of twelve jurors and four alternates on February 11, 2018.

State Prosecutor Melissa Nelson delivered a devastating opening statement, detailing the terrifying final hours of Cherish Periwinkle’s life. She presented forensic evidence proving the extreme physical violence inflicted upon the young girl before her life was cruelly stolen away.

The defense team attempted to shift focus toward Rain Periwinkle’s judgment, suggesting she knowingly put her daughter in harm’s way. They did not contest Smith’s physical presence or connection to the victim, focusing instead on avoiding the death penalty sentence.

The prosecution called Duval County Chief Medical Examiner Dr. Valerie Rao to present detailed forensic findings to the attentive jury. Dr. Rao systematically outlined the extensive injuries documented on Cherish’s body, including severe bruising on her chest, legs, and knees.

She testified that Smith’s physical DNA had been recovered directly from the victim’s body, definitively connecting him to the assault. The graphic nature of the testimony proved overwhelming, causing the veteran medical examiner to break down in tears on the stand.

After the state rested its compelling case, the defense surprisingly declined to present witness testimony or deliver a closing argument. The strategy left the jury with an uncontradicted mountain of forensic, video, and physical evidence establishing Smith’s complete guilt.

The jury retired to the deliberation room to consider the charges of kidnapping, sexual battery, and first-degree capital murder. Remarkably, after just fifteen minutes of internal discussion, the jurors returned to the courtroom with a unanimous verdict of guilty.

The trial immediately proceeded to the penalty phase, where jurors considered whether to sentence Smith to life imprisonment or death. Prosecutors emphasized Smith’s extensive history of predatory child abuse, arguing his actions warranted the ultimate penalty under state law.

On May 1, 2018, Circuit Judge Mallory D. Cooper formally delivered the court’s sentence before a packed, silent courtroom. Addressing Donald James Smith directly, Judge Cooper condemned his actions in a stern, uncompromising tone that echoed through the room.

“Donald Smith, you have not only lost the right to live among us,” Judge Cooper stated firmly. “You have lost the right to life altogether.”

Judge Cooper sentenced Smith to death by lethal injection, ordering his immediate transfer to Florida’s Union Correctional Institution. Smith’s subsequent legal appeals, citing issues with venue selection and graphic evidence presentation, were unanimously rejected by higher courts.

Today, Donald James Smith remains on Florida’s death row, isolated from the general prison population as he awaits his sentence. Cherish Periwinkle’s tragic death served as a stark, painful reminder of the vital importance of vigilance in public spaces.

Though her life was cut devastatingly short, Cherish’s memory endures as a beacon prompting communities to protect their most vulnerable children. Her story stands as an enduring legacy, reinforcing the collective responsibility to guard young lives against senseless, predatory harm.