Slain Detroit neurosurgeon Devon Hoover's family to killer: 'Why? ... What have you gained?'

Sometimes grief hits Andrea Martin when she hears a certain song, or when she's driving and suddenly thinks to herself "I don't have a brother anymore."

For Beth Lechlitner, an acquaintance asking how she's doing is enough to bring her to tears.

And there's not a day that goes by when Lila Graber and her five sisters don't think about the life of their brother, Devon Hoover. They imagine what his last moments were like, before the prominent Detroit neurosurgeon was killed, shot twice in the back of the head and later found April 23 covered in a comforter, sheet and rug in the crawlspace of his Boston Edison Historic District mansion.

Their brother's killer hasn't been caught. It has been five months. And despite the excruciating pain of the loss, they don't feel vengeful, Hoover's sisters said.

But they want answers. They want justice.

"Nothing will ever compensate us for our loss," the sisters said in an email they crafted together as part of an interview with the Free Press.

"If we could speak to the perpetrators of this horrendous crime ... we would simply say, 'Why?' Please tell us, What have you gained?' "

It's the first interview the Hoover family has given since Hoover's death, and it comes amid increasing pressure against the Detroit Police Department to make an arrest in a case growing cold.

"I miss having a brother," said another sister, Laurie Hoover.

"The world feels less safe, the troubles seem more overwhelming, and the joy of family is tainted by a gaping hole."

'Before the snow hits the ground'

April 21 was the last time anyone saw Hoover, 53, a beloved neurosurgeon of over 20 years widely praised for his kind and compassionate demeanor.

It was a Friday night, and Hoover had dinner at a country club in Grosse Pointe Farms with his friend Carol Goves and two others, according to Goves.

Goves told the Free Press he seemed a little off that night, which she attributed to the fact that his mother was nearing the end of her battle with cancer. He planned to travel the next day to his home state of Indiana to visit his mother, with whom he shared a special bond. His mother died a few days after he did.

Dinner conversation was normal, Goves said. They gossiped and told stories, per usual.

Hoover's sisters spoke of their late brother's storytelling abilities, which had a way of drawing people to him.

When Goves met Hoover in 2014 at a cocktail party in Grosse Pointe, "The minute I heard his story, I was fascinated. I was like, 'I've got to know this guy,' " Goves recalled.

Hoover grew up with his six siblings in a Mennonite family on a 100-year-old dairy farm in Goshen, Indiana. He was always a hard worker, social, a lover of antiques, history, gardening.

Hoover and Goves hit it off, despite their age difference — Goves is 81 years old.

"Everybody's got a go-to person. That was Devon," Goves said.

Goves said that after dinner, it didn't seem like Hoover had other plans that night. He was in no rush to get home, she said, and besides, he was supposed to be leaving early for Indiana the following morning.

Two days later, when Hoover never showed up in Indiana, his family called the police. Hoover was found dead, hidden in the crawlspace of his home.

According to the autopsy report, Hoover was shot twice in the head — first behind his right ear and then in the back of his head — before he was dragged facedown into the crawlspace.

He was found wearing only a black sock.

Fingernail clippings and samples were taken from Hoover's body for a rape kit, according to the autopsy.

Police previously had a person of interest in custody, and Detroit Police Chief James White said he was confident this person had key information about Hoover's slaying.

But charges never materialized. The person of interest was released, and since then there have been few updates from police, who have been asking the community to provide tips.

Hoover's sisters said they, too, have heard little from Detroit police about their brother's case.

"One thing we wish for is regular updates from the detectives, even if they can't give specific details. It would mean a great deal to be reassured the case is continually active and progressing toward an arrest," they said.

"But we trust they are using every avenue possible to solve it. We really do appreciate their ongoing efforts to secure an arrest."

Their faith, the Hoover sisters said, is what keeps them afloat.

And they are determined to forgive.

But many in the Detroit community are growing frustrated with police. A handful of Hoover's neighbors said they were surprised police never showed up to interview them. Many have been canvassing the city with flyers offering a cash reward, which is now over $20,000, to help find Hoover's killer.

Goves filed a complaint with Detroit's Office of the Chief Investigator against the police department, alleging she witnessed the crime scene left unsecured in the days after Hoover was found.

Related: Slain Detroit neurosurgeon's home broken into night before his funeral

A gate was broken down, as well as the locks to the front door. She said police even gave the OK to have the house cleaned, but officers soon afterward found evidence, right before the house was to be cleaned. Family members of Hoover were there, and corroborated Goves' account.

Goves worries evidence may have been compromised. Chief Investigator Jerome Warfield, tasked with directing investigations into noncriminal police complaints, confirmed Goves filed a complaint but said it was not something his office has authority or training to investigate.

"A filing of an OCI police complaint has no bearing on the case," Detroit police said in a statement in response to questions about Goves' complaint.

Fed up, a few community members attended an Aug. 31 Detroit Board of Police Commissioners meeting and voiced their concerns to the police chief.

He described the case as complex, with multiple layers, but emphasized that police are confident they have their suspect and are working tirelessly toward an arrest.

"We are confident, and I cannot speak beyond that. We are very confident that we are going to bring this family justice. We are confident that we are aware of the circumstances and we are confident in our suspect," White said.

"We just need a little bit more time. We're working with the prosecutor's office and we have a to-do list. We're prepared to have an announcement before the snow hits the ground, but we just have a lot of work to do."

But with each week that passes without an arrest, rumors surrounding Hoover's slaying develop and spread among peers, patients, neighbors and onlookers.

"One of the reasons we are eager for an arrest is so that speculation can be put to rest. We don’t want an innocent person to be accused," Hoover's sisters said.

They suspect the killer is someone who knew Hoover, and who knew his home, but they don't know who that is or why he was killed.

"Most of the rumors are not based on fact, and there is very little reliable information on the internet."

One more hug

From a young age, Hoover knew helping others was his calling.

"Devon’s goal was to make the world a better place for people. He wrote in one of his childhood journals, 'After I’m gone, I hope my memory brings happy smiles to people’s faces,' " Martin said.

He did so by devoting much of his life to becoming a successful neurosurgeon. After completing his residency at Henry Ford Hospital in Detroit, he fell in love with the city. He stayed, practicing as a neurosurgeon at Ascension St. John Hospital in Detroit.

Since his death, dozens of former patients of Hoover have said he saved their lives. He genuinely cared for his patients, they said, asked about their lives and treated them with kindness, compassion and respect.

Hoover's family wants him to be remembered not just as a skilled neurosurgeon but as someone who loved his family deeply and whose love was reciprocated.

"It’s difficult to put into words what Devon meant to our family," Graber said. "The ache left in our hearts reminds us of our deep love for him that goes beyond anything he ever accomplished in life.

He rarely missed a family event and never failed to send flowers to his mother on her birthday and Mother's Day, and birthday cards for all six sisters, said Diana Wenger, another of Hoover's sisters.

"I long for one more conversation, and one more hug," Wenger said.

He always showed interest in his nieces and nephews and treated his family with honor.

"Devon was our brother, whose love for his family never seemed to waver. I never doubted that my big brother was always on my side, looking out for me and ready to help if I needed it," Laurie Hoover said.

Martin said Hoover had a way of sometimes jutting his neck out when he was talking, especially if he was adamant about something. That's something she misses about her brother, along with the sound of his voice and his laugh.

"I'm afraid I will forget them," she said.

Compassion was second nature to Hoover, Martin said. He was interested in people, and could befriend anyone — from his colleagues at Ascension St. John to supporters of the Detroit Opera and nuns from the Fraternity of Notre Dame.

"I miss knowing he is here. I miss being able to pick up the phone and talk to him," Graber said. Wenger, too, misses their phone conversations.

They'll never forget growing up playing with farm animals and with board games like Monopoly, the hymns they would sing together, all the family camping trips.

And Hoover's sisters will never forget his devotion to their mother, how he was by her side nearly every weekend for the last two months before his death, and shortly afterward, hers.

Etched in their memories is Hoover by their mother's side, showing her photographs from treasured family photo albums, sitting with her in the sunshine, pushing her through walks outdoors in a wheelchair.

And, on the Sunday before he died, telling his mother goodbye.

"I don't know if I'll see you again here, but I hope to see you in heaven," Hoover's mother said to him.

Hoover hugged her, kissed her. Then he whispered a reply in her ear.

"That was the last time any of us would see Devon alive," Lechlitner said.

Andrea Sahouri covers criminal justice for the Detroit Free Press. She can be contacted at 313-264-0442, asahouri@freepress.com or on Twitter @andreamsahouri.

This article originally appeared on Detroit Free Press: Detroit neurosurgeon Devon Hoover's family speaks out on homicide case