A Pinellas County 911 operator received a call from Laurese at 10:56 p.m. on June 3, 2019, obviously distressed yet speaking in a measured clear voice. “There’s nothing wrong. I just want my boyfriend gone. I just want my boyfriend to move out.”

The operator asks for more information, as Laurese begins to stammer. “I ca- can-‘t…I just don’t want you to hu- hu-rt me,” as if someone is choking her at that moment before the phone cuts off. The operator tries to return the call, to no avail. Officers are deployed. Dispatch notifies them about the situation, including that “the caller was breathing heavily,” and “a male voice was heard in the background.”

A patrol officer quickly arrives at the condo and begins to investigate, followed by a corporal and deputy soon after. No disturbances were apparent, as they spoke to a couple walking their dog that evening. Officers knocked loudly but didn’t get a response. They noted that a truck registered to Dr. Benjamin Eric First was in the designated space.

“I did hear a dog barking from inside the residence,” wrote the officer who submitted the report. “I also thought I heard someone behind the front door, possibly looking through the peephole.”

Instead of breaking the door down that night, the officers chose to leave the premises – as well as messages on Laurese’s phone to urgently call them back. The report included one other remarkable detail that made no difference to the officers: They could hear Laurese’s phone ringing inside the condo.

The next day, Laurese’s family asked police to do a wellness check at the property her mother owned. They didn’t know about the 911 call and were unable to reach her. This time, officers broke in and found Laurese lying on the bed with a bullet shot through her skull. Ben was on top of her, also dead from a self-inflicted gunshot to his head, one of his Smith & Wessen revolvers lying next to him.

No one reported hearing gunshots, and the police investigation didn’t indicate if a silencer was used. Ben possessed several in his stockpile of weapons. Even though his great grandfather was shot to death and his parents never let him play with toy guns, Ben began acquiring real ones as soon as he was able to legally do so.

Benefit of the doubts
Laurese knew that Ben had a troubled past but allowed her fears to be allayed by his explanations of mistreatment and misunderstandings. Her mother, Lenore, pointed out that Laurese was such a loving person that she gave everyone the benefit of doubt. “It was her nature as well as mine to be supportive. We felt sorry for him,” Lenore said, explaining among other things, “he was adopted.”

Although Laurese’s daughter Jess acknowledged liking Ben “at first,” Lenore said she thought he was on drugs – “jittery” when he met the family over Thanksgiving dinner. Her daughter was old enough to make her own decisions and Lenore didn’t ask many questions, as long as Laurese seemed happy. 

When I met Laurese, she mentioned how Ben made a lasting impression from the time he operated on her years before. The dark eyelashes above her brown eyes almost seemed to flutter as she spoke of the reunion – now romantically with Ben – and living together despite hardly knowing each other. I felt Ben was making strides, rebuilding his practice, but he secretly carried on the same types of malicious practices I learned about at his battery trial.

My guilty feelings eventually gave way to a desire to make a difference, to share this story about my friend Ben, but it turned out to be about something much bigger than him. The PRN program that was supposed to enable and monitor his recovery also preserved his status as an oral surgeon, which made him particularly desirable to women of all ages. Although he was good looking, that alone would never have netted as many shallow as well as dangerous relationships.

You may feel like I do, that patients have a right to know who is treating them. Reviews posted online aren’t likely to contain the “private” details PRN programs often protect from public awareness. Dr. First had many valid endorsements. Some, however, revealed that he had been jailed and negligent.

After release and returning to practice, Dr. First also cut corners. He took on a patient, for example, who was obese and in poor health, at risk for what happened during the procedure: cardiac arrest. A member of his staff froze, as Dr. First pushed her out of the way so he could reach the defibrillator paddles. Although the man was alive when an ambulance arrived, he ended up dying at the hospital.

Dr. First was destitute. He needed the money.