The man has been in prison for 45 years due to the death of Hillsboro Deputy Bureau

TAMPA – Prosecutors say they intentionally charged at the Hillsboro County Sheriff’s patrol cruiser in 2021, killing a sergeant. Brian Lavigne is due to retire and pleaded guilty to murder in 45 years of prison on Tuesday.

In an agreement with state prosecutors, Travis Zachary Garrett pleaded guilty to second-degree murder and other crime reduction charges in exchange for a sentence that would guarantee he would be jailed for decades.

Paralyzed from a fatal collision, Garrett, 32, was in a wheelchair Tuesday morning in front of a courtroom packed with uniformed sheriff’s deputies, including Lavigne’s daughter. He quietly answered a series of questions from Hillsboro Circuit Judge Robin Husson to ensure he understood his guilty plea before being sentenced to prison.

It was the volatile end of a four-year legal Odyssey on a central question about whether Garrett was going crazy when the crime occurred. If he was convicted of being charged in court, Garrett would have faced a forced prison sentence.

Lavigne’s daughter, Caitlyn, sat straight on the stand of a witness in a white uniform with a sheriff’s star stuck to her chest Tuesday morning. She expressed conflicting feelings about the outcome. Ultimately, avoiding trial would not spare the family having to look at and hear details of how their father died.

“It’s not about showing mercy to you,” she said, looking directly at Garrett. “It’s about giving mercy to ourselves.”

After hearing that the aide’s family had spoken about how he destroyed their lives, Garrett offered a brief apology.

“I hope I can change things, but I know I can’t,” he said. “I’m really sorry.”

There was a rare debate in the court over the negotiations that led to the agreement that would plead Garrett guilty. The development came after state and defense attorneys consulted experts who were expected to testify that Garrett, a disabled veteran, suffers from bipolar and post-traumatic stress disorder.

Lavigne, 54, worked in law enforcement for 30 years, had been away from retirement when he was killed.

It happened on January 11, 2021 after his fellow Hillsboro Sheriff’s deputies were called to the Paddock Club apartment off the coast of Lambsden Road in Brandon.

That day, the second time the agent has filed a complaint about Garrett. That morning, a neighbor reported that he had smashed a glass outside the door to his apartment. When the aide arrived, Garrett made an indecent comment and said he was going to disappear.

The apartment manager again complained that day that day that Garrett was walking around naked and throwing items from the apartment. Two deputies arrived, found Garrett, covered only in sandals, and then passed through Breezewy, down the aisle, past the broken glass.

He carried his backpack and a dark satchel tied up to his chest. Garrett ignored the first deputy tried to talk to him. He walked over to Silver Nissan, raised his phone and smiled and took a selfie.

A brawl continued as one aide tried to stop Garrett from getting in the driver’s seat of the car. He endured the shock from Taser, cried out “God’s blessing” and “I love you” in the brawl.

Garrett manages to return to his car and speed up, wrapping his apartment around and breaking the iron exit gate. He headed to Ramsden Road as the agent pursued it.

Lavigne was parked on the side of the road near his apartment.

In court, Assistant State Attorney Michelle Doherty said cameras on Garrett’s car dashboard recorded him across the traffic lane before he slammed into the driver’s side of Lavigne’s patrol cruiser. Garrett’s car’s data recorder showed it was moving at 76 miles with a total drop in the accelerator when the collision occurred, Doherty said.

The rescuer made Lavigne out of his car. His spine was dislocated, prosecutors said. He also had a dull effect on his head and neck. He was taken to Tampa General Hospital, where he was declared dead.

When he died, he was promoted to the rank of Sergeant after his death.

Garrett was hospitalized before being booked in prison for first-degree murder and other charges.

Last year, lawyers at the public defense firm filed a notice that they would pursue crazy defense. As witnesses, they listed psychiatrists who were expected to testify at the time of the lieutenant’s death that he had not understood what he was doing or what it was wrong.

But the bars prove to be a crazy defense in Florida are high and rarely successful.

The state stole its own forensic psychiatrist as a witness, but it was unclear to what extent his testimony would oppose defense experts.

A court paper accompanying the state expert’s report referenced an academic study that examined the extent to which marijuana uses worsens symptoms in people with bipolar disorder. Court records show that at Garrett’s arrest he had both marijuana and cocaine in his blood.

In court Tuesday, Lavigne’s son Liam spoke in detail about his own mental health struggle. His father’s death has made his fear and anxiety much worse, he said. However, he added that he can never use his hardships to justify hurting someone else.

“I hope you’re listening,” he told Garrett. “It didn’t have to be like this. This is the life you chose.”

Caitlyn Lavigne, the daughter of the aide, spoke with pride about the day her father secured the badge to her uniform. For nine years they worked together. She would give anything another afternoon, she said.

She reserved her last words to lightly par the man who took him away.

“You killed him in a pathetic way with coronavirus,” she told Garrett. “This is not what you won. You didn’t give him the opportunity to protect yourself.”

“You’re a pathetic excuse that’s weak to humans,” she said. “I can’t wait to never think of you again.”

Kathleen Lavigne, the widow of the adjutant, recalls a man who spent a career serving the masses who knew well how to deal with tensions.

“Brian was the man who was most likely to remove the situation,” his wife told Garrett. “You’ve had 32 years of experience taking care of your phone.”

She reiterated the memories of children with the constant presence and anxiety that comes with having a loved one in law enforcement. To see if his patrol car had made it home after the night shift, he returned the straps of his vest to hold onto his bullets, and he meant a sound that meant home and safety so he checked if his patrol car had made it home.

“I think every officer knows the sound of a bulletproof vest Velcro,” she said. “I’ll give anything to hear again.”