The Murder of Sherri Rasmussen: Why It Took 23 Years to Arrest One of the LAPD's Own

The Murder of Sherri Rasmussen: Why It Took 23 Years to Arrest One of the LAPD's Own

On a February afternoon in 1986, John Ruetten walked into his Van Nuys condo and found a nightmare. His wife, Sherri Rasmussen, a 29-year-old nursing director, was dead on the living room floor. She’d been beaten. She’d been shot three times. The scene was chaotic—a struggle had clearly taken place, and the couple's BMW was missing.

For decades, the official story was a botched robbery. Detectives at the time pointed the finger at two unidentified Latino men. They said it was a home invasion gone wrong. Case closed. Or at least, case shelved.

But the "robbery" never quite made sense. Why would burglars stay to beat a woman so viciously? Why was a bite mark left on her arm? And why did Sherri’s father, Nels Rasmussen, keep telling the LAPD to look at John’s ex-girlfriend—a police officer named Stephanie Lazarus?

The "Burglary" That Wasn't

The initial investigation into the murder of Sherri Rasmussen was, frankly, a mess. Detectives focused on the idea of a robbery because a few items were displaced and the car was gone. But look at the details. Sherri was a fit, capable woman. She fought back hard. There was blood on the walls and furniture knocked over. A ceramic vase had been smashed over her head.

In a typical "smash and grab," burglars flee the moment they encounter resistance. They don't stick around for a protracted physical brawl.

Nels Rasmussen knew something was off from day one. He told detectives about Stephanie Lazarus. She was an LAPD officer who had dated John Ruetten for years before he met Sherri. Lazarus hadn't taken the breakup well. She’d shown up at Sherri’s workplace. She’d told Sherri, "If I can’t have John, no one can."

The lead detective at the time, Lyle Mayer, basically brushed Nels off. He told him he’d been watching too much TV. Think about that for a second. A father provides a specific lead about a jilted lover with police training, and the cops ignore it because she’s "one of them."

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DNA and the Bite Mark: The Turning Point

Fast forward to 2004. DNA technology had moved from science fiction to a standard forensic tool. Jennifer Francis, a criminalist at the LAPD lab, began looking at the evidence from the murder of Sherri Rasmussen. She found a swab taken from a bite mark on Sherri’s arm.

The results were a bombshell. The DNA didn't belong to a man. It belonged to a woman.

This blew the "two male burglars" theory out of the water. But even then, the case didn't move immediately. It took until 2009—twenty-three years after the crime—for a secret cold case unit to look at Lazarus again. By this time, Stephanie Lazarus wasn't just a beat cop. She was a high-ranking detective in the stolen art recovery unit. She was respected. She was "untouchable."

The surveillance on her was like something out of a spy novel. Undercover detectives followed their own colleague to a Costco. They waited for her to discard a soda cup. They grabbed it, tested the saliva, and it was a match.

The Interrogation Everyone Should Watch

If you want to see a masterclass in psychological tension, watch the video of Lazarus’s interrogation. It’s on YouTube. It’s chilling.

Detectives Jim Nuttall and Dan Jaramillo didn't walk in and handcuff her. They treated her like a coworker. They asked for her help on a "case." They chatted about her career and her commute.

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Slowly, they tightened the noose.

When they started asking about John Ruetten, her demeanor shifted. She became vague. She couldn't remember details. "He was just a guy I dated in college," she basically said. For a detective trained to remember details, her "I don't recalls" were screamingly loud.

When they told her they had DNA evidence, she didn't act like an innocent person wrongly accused. She didn't get angry. She got technical. She started asking about the "parameters" of the DNA testing. Then, she walked out. She tried to go back to her locker, but they stopped her. She was under arrest for the murder of Sherri Rasmussen.

Why This Case Still Stings

The conviction of Stephanie Lazarus in 2012 brought some justice, but it opened a wound in the LAPD that hasn't fully healed. The lawsuit filed by the Rasmussen family alleged that the department intentionally ignored evidence to protect its own.

It’s hard to argue with them.

The original file had gone "missing" for years. The bite mark evidence had been tucked away in a coroner’s office freezer rather than the police evidence room. If it hadn't been for a few persistent cold case detectives and the evolution of genetic testing, Lazarus likely would have retired with a full pension, her secrets intact.

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She was sentenced to 27 years to life. In early 2024, there was a massive outcry when a parole board actually recommended her for youthful offender parole (she was 25 at the time of the murder). After intense pressure and a review, the California Governor’s office and the parole board eventually reversed course, or the recommendation was vacated. She remains behind bars.

Lessons from the Rasmussen Case

The murder of Sherri Rasmussen isn't just a true crime story. It's a case study in institutional bias. It shows how "tunnel vision" can derail an investigation for decades.

If you are ever involved in a situation where you feel the authorities are overlooking a clear lead, here is what you can learn from the Rasmussens' persistence:

  • Document Everything: Nels Rasmussen kept meticulous notes of his conversations with the LAPD. When the case finally broke, he had a paper trail showing he had warned them about Lazarus in 1986.
  • Trust Forensic Progress: If a case is cold, ask about "biological evidence." Many old cases are being solved now simply because someone asked to re-test a swab or a clothing scrap that was ignored in the 80s or 90s.
  • Media Pressure Works: Public interest keeps cases from being buried. The Rasmussen family never let the story die, and eventually, the pressure forced the department to let the cold case unit do their jobs without interference.

The reality is that Sherri Rasmussen should have celebrated her 40th wedding anniversary by now. She was a woman who dedicated her life to healing others, only to have her own life stolen by someone sworn to protect it. Justice was delayed for a quarter-century, but it wasn't denied.

To stay informed on similar cold case breakthroughs or to understand how modern forensics are reshaping the legal system, keep an eye on the California Department of Justice's "Unsolved" initiatives. They often release updated data on DNA backlogs and cold case clearance rates that provide a broader context to individual tragedies like this one.