Promising prosecutor killed with drugs after life unravels

MACON, Mo. -- A former prosecutor and family man once known for a firm grasp of the difference between right and wrong, David Masters arrived at his death bound to a chair, his final stop along a road of poor choices.

Two housemates are accused of being his judge and jury, condemning Masters for owing three weeks of rent and making passes at a woman with whom he lived. When the woman pulled out a gun, court papers say, Masters said he'd rather die from drugs -- so the father of seven was injected with syringe after syringe of cocaine.

The 52-year-old's body was found the next day near a river in the Ozarks, a couple hundred miles from this small town where he made his name upholding the law.

"No one in their wildest imagination would ever dream he would succumb to an illicit drug problem and associate with the people he did," said James Foley, a former Macon County prosecutor and retired judge. "They try and rationalize it, but you couldn't even make this up in TV fiction. That's what his life became."

No one will say if Masters might have been using drugs as his life fell apart. Since losing re-election in 1998, he'd abandoned clients, separated from his wife and surrounded himself with drug users, his daughter said.

Brad Funk, an assistant prosecutor under Masters for more than five years in the 1990s, said his one-time mentor always "tried to do the right thing. That's why it's so shocking."

Masters came to Macon in 1990, when then-Gov. John Ashcroft tapped him to be the county's prosecutor.

Full-time part-time job

Masters was a sharp, organized litigator who devoted full-time hours to the part-time job, and had a private law practice on the side to make ends meet.

"He was as productive as two or three attorneys put together," said Funk, since 2001 an associate circuit judge in Mercer County. "I never questioned his decency or his integrity or his abilities as an attorney."

The job took a physical toll on Masters, a Diet Coke-swigging diabetic who didn't seem to make his health a priority.

"Some days he just wouldn't look good. ... He just didn't look rested or healthy," said Judy Roberts, who has run the county's circuit clerk's office for the past 11 years. "I just figured he was working too hard."

Masters and his family lived in one of Macon's best-known homes, the 19th-century Wardell Mansion, which is on the National Register of Historic Places.

But after two terms, Masters lost re-election in 1998. He soon seemed overwhelmed by his work.

In late 2003, an ex-client was arrested, suspected of setting Masters' law office ablaze. That month, court records show, Masters' wife filed for divorce; they separated but never officially ended the marriage. The historic house became a money pit.

"His life seemed to unravel," Foley said.

Masters left Macon County for a fresh start around Springfield, but he failed to tell dozens of his clients and his law license was suspended in January 2004.

Today, his housemates -- Crystal Broyles, 27, and Thomas Naumann, 49 -- and Broyles' sister, 23-year-old Brandi Storment are charged with first-degree murder in his slaying. Each is jailed without bail.

His landmark home is an eyesore of shattered windows, a rotting roof and a rusting weather vane.

"He was a wonderful man who made a few wrong choices, and it changed his life forever," said one of Masters' daughters, Cecily Fliege. "That's all it takes -- is one poor choice."