She had every right to have a gun in her bedroom, the chief said. “We’re homeowners in the state of Texas,” he said. “I can’t imagine most of us — if we thought we had somebody outside our house that shouldn’t be and we had access to a firearm — that we wouldn’t act very similarly to how she acted.”
Fort Worth is at least a 30-minute drive from Dallas and very much its own community, with its own local politics, cultural identity and history of relations with the police. But the two cities — flashy Dallas and down-home Fort Worth — are the anchors of a sprawling metroplex, where people commute from the smaller suburbs for work and meet in the middle for Dallas Cowboys games.
On Sunday, activists who only earlier this month stood outside the Dallas County courthouse to demand justice in the case against Ms. Guyger also came to Fort Worth for a vigil for Ms. Jefferson. “I saw many of the same faces,” Mr. Suleiman said.
Ms. Jefferson, who went by Tay, graduated in 2014 from Xavier University of Louisiana, the country’s only black Catholic college, with a degree in biology. She worked out of their modest, blue-paneled house in Fort Worth, selling medical equipment while she studied to apply to medical school.
After living in the Dallas area, she recently moved to Fort Worth to help care for her mother and her 8-year-old nephew, whom she had been showing how to mow and weed-whack the yard. He was in the room when his aunt was killed.
On Monday, the boy was playing along a sidewalk in downtown Dallas while his family held a news conference nearby. He wore a long-sleeve shirt with a BMX biker graphic and bluejeans, flexing his knowledge of sports cars, including a Corvette.