FORT PIERCE, Fla. — Billy Leon Kearse is scheduled to be executed Tuesday at 6 p.m. for the 1991 murder of Fort Pierce Police Sgt. Danny Parrish — a killing that has haunted the victim's family, friends and fellow officers for more than 35 years.
The execution will be Florida's 22nd in just over a year. WPTV Investigative Reporter Kate Hussey has been tracking the case, reviewing files and speaking with family and friends.
She will witness the execution at Florida State Prison.
WATCH: WPTV will witness execution of Billy Leon Kearse
The night Sgt. Parrish was killed
On Jan. 18, 1991, prosecutors said 29-year-old Parrish was working a late shift when he stopped 18-year-old Kearse for driving the wrong way down a one-way street.
Investigators said Kearse fought Parrish, grabbed his gun and shot him more than a dozen times.
Parrish's wife, 27-year-old dispatcher Mirtha Busbin, had spoken with her husband just 15 minutes before the shooting.
"He was just going to lay low the rest of the night, take it easy. He was going to go have some dinner. I said, 'Okay, I love you, You know where I'm at.' He said, 'I love you, too.' And we hung up," Busbin said.
Fort Pierce Police Officer Greg Kirk was among those who responded to the scene.
"I heard sirens coming from all over the city, and I'm like, 'What is going on?' I told my partner, I'm like, 'Hey, we need to go. Something's up.' So we ran out and jumped in our unmarked vehicle, and I asked the dispatcher, 'What happened?' He said, 'We have an officer shot.' I'm like, 'Well, where?' And they said, 'Fifth & Avenue A," Kirk said.
Kirk said when he arrived, he could not immediately tell who had been shot.
"I saw legs sticking out, and a bunch of guys hovering over top, and you know, they were working feverishly, and I could not tell who it was. And I'm like, 'Who is it?' They're like, 'It's Danny.' And I'm like, 'Are you kidding me?' And they're like, 'Yeah, it doesn't look good.' And so, you know, at that point, I knew there was nothing I could do other than try to find a bad guy," Kirk said.
Former officer Dennis McWilliams learned of Parrish's death by phone.
"Got a telephone call. The guy at the end of the phone said, just like this, 'Danny Parrish was shot and killed tonight.' And I, you know, I still think about it today. I never forgot how he said that. I never forgot what he said," McWilliams said.
Deputies with the St. Lucie County Sheriff's Office arrested Kearse hours later. Busbin was rushed to the hospital, where she learned her husband had not survived.
"They said, 'Bring her through the employee side of the hospital. There's too many on the other side of the hospital.' So when we got there, the medical unit was waiting for us, and you could see, like, sirens, lights, everything, you know, the whole parking lot. So I sat down, and Chief Kerlikowske grabbed my hand, and he said, 'Mirtha, Danny was in an incident tonight, and he was hurt.' And so I said, 'Can I see him? Is he okay?' He said he did not make it," Busbin said.
A community in mourning
Law enforcement officers from across Florida attended Parrish's funeral. Busbin, then 27, addressed the crowd.
"He always told me when we left this house that this was just a part of life — and that life should go on. He just wanted me to be proud of him," Busbin said.
More than three decades later, she still reflects on the time she lost.
"I was young, so to look back, I wished I'd had more time with you, you know, because you're still a kid. I mean, I got married, but I didn't… You're learning marriage, you're learning finance, you're learning different things. And you know, so I wish, I wish that I had more time to get more time with him," Busbin said.
For Kirk, the grief was compounded by the bond he and Parrish had built just months before.

"It was just tough to sit there and see your buddy that I just got done going through a SWAT school [with] three months prior, and of course, you develop a bond that is just unbelievable and unbreakable. It was terrible. You know, to have your buddy shot down like that, and knowing that his last thoughts were, this was this guy standing over him with a gun, and he's telling him, don't do it, man, please don't do it. Yeah, it's tough," Kirk said.
The killing fell on Martin Luther King Jr. weekend. Parrish had been part of the honor guard preparing for a parade that Monday.
"When we did the parade on Monday, we obviously did it with a missing man formation. It was very emotional," McWilliams said.
Conviction, sentencing and decades of appeals
In October 1991, a jury convicted Kearse of first-degree murder. Court records show his defense called multiple witnesses who cited a troubled childhood and possible brain damage. Days later, the jury recommended death.
Busbin said she never forgot the moment Kearse was sentenced.
"When he was actually sentenced, and he was in the courtroom, Judge Cianca said, 'Is there anything you'd like to say before I sentenced you?' He turned around, he looked at me, winked and he smiled. And that's when I decided this mission was going to be ongoing," Busbin said.
Over the next 35 years, Kearse filed 17 appeals — 11 to the Florida Supreme Court and 4 to the U.S. Supreme Court. Busbin said the appeals arrived like clockwork, reopening old wounds each time.
"My packets would come right before Christmas, and then you're reliving it all over again, and then what if one of those appeals ends up being life in prison with eligibility of parole?" Busbin said.
In 2018, court records show another appeal was denied — and then the case stalled. Still, Busbin waited for justice, but no answer came.
"Frustrating that nothing's been done," Busbin told WPTV's Jon Shainman in 2021.
State Attorney Tom Bakkedahl echoed that frustration during a January press conference, when we announced Gov. Ron DeSantis had signed Kearse's death warrant after 35 years.
WATCH: Widow of slain Fort Pierce sergeant sees justice after 35 years
"I am so sorry that this criminal justice system would take us 35 years," Bakkedahl said.
"This isn't about me. This is justice for him. It's all been, it's always been about justice," Busbin said.
McWilliams said the news brought him to tears.
"I was with my family, and I cried, and the tears were just relief," McWilliams said.
"We're finally getting closure," added Kirk.
A last-minute appeal and a divided debate
Not everyone agrees with the execution. Bridget Maloney of Floridians Against the Death Penalty is working with Kearse's family on a last-minute appeal.
"At eight years old, Billy was begging officers to send him to a detention facility so that he could get food," Maloney said.
Maloney said it is possible to hold two perspectives at once.
"I think that you can hold recognizing that what Billy did was horrific, and holding some anger toward him while also recognizing that this is, you know, a loved one and a family member who, who will be, you know, gone," Maloney said.
"It's really, really difficult to describe, sort of, the call that you get when you find out that — not only has your loved one done a horrific thing and has been in prison for so long — but now has, you know, 29, 30 days to live, and that's not to pit against a victim's family. It's just, it is a different experience when you don't necessarily have that public support, it can be really isolating," Maloney added.
As of Monday evening, the Florida Supreme Court has not yet ruled on Kearse's latest appeal. His last appeal failed by a single vote in a 4-3 decision.
Florida's surge of executions
Kearse's execution comes as Florida has carried out an unprecedented number of executions in 2025.
The state shattered its previous record of eight executions set in 2014 by carrying out 19 executions — a pace that sparked debate between those seeking justice for victims' families and advocates fighting for death row inmates.
Defense attorneys raised concerns that the rapid pace could strain the appeals process. State records show only 36 qualified attorneys statewide handle post-conviction death row cases, with just 60 days to file last-minute appeals once a death warrant is signed.
State
Florida leads nation in both executions and death row exonerations
Gov. DeSantis, the sole person who can sign death warrants, has defended the pace.
"We've heard from a lot of the family members of the victims over the years, and there's a saying justice delayed, justice denied. So I felt that I owed it to them that this ran smoothly and promptly," DeSantis said.
Kearse's execution will mark the third in 2026. Two more are scheduled for March, which will make 25 executions in 13 months.
Remembering Danny Parrish
On all sides, those who knew Parrish said he should be remembered for how he lived, not how he died.
"He was a great police officer, and he had a way that made you look up to him. I think he would have, had he survived, been a natural leader in our department. We kind of looked up to him. I really think he would have made something of himself," McWilliams said.
"He was so loyal. He was one of those guys where if I said, 'Hey, Danny, I need —' 'Okay, I'll be there,'" Kirk said.
"He was fun, he was funny. There's still a piece of your life that you can't change, and he would want me to go on," Busbin said.
Kearse's execution is scheduled for Tuesday at 6 p.m.
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